Jo stepped around her desk, grabbed her jacket off a coat rack by the door. “We can’t have enough eyes and boots on the ground. The sooner Ziggy is back in jail, the better for River Bend.”

“The better for Zoe.” Luke stood and followed Jo out.

“I’d like to think Zoe is back to being a part of this town.”

Yeah, he wanted to think that, too.

Zoe watched her mother through the window of Sam’s diner for several minutes. Her mom was an attractive woman, more so when she put a little effort into her appearance. Makeup had been a necessity to hide the bruises Ziggy left behind years ago. So it wasn’t a surprise to Zoe to see a dusting of foundation over her mother’s face. Was it preemptive makeup, something she wanted in place so people wouldn’t be surprised to find her painted up once the hits started coming? Or was her mom already catching the wrath of Ziggy’s fist?

Zoe wondered how many of the customers in the diner knew the truth about dear old Dad. Right after he’d been sent away, Ziggy had been all the town talked about. Zoe remembered her mother telling her to ignore the gossip and the stares. People all have issues in the privacy of their own homes.

As an adult, Zoe translated that to mean everyone had a skeleton they wanted to hide. She’d spent time watching other families and wondering if those dads were hitting their kids. It took a long while to hear someone yelling and not cringe. Even as an adult, Zoe would sometimes freeze when she overheard a heated argument between two strangers.

Her mother must have felt the weight of Zoe’s stare. Her eyes lifted from the table she was cleaning off and found hers.

Zoe took the few remaining steps and pushed through the doors of Sam’s diner.

The bell announced her arrival and a few heads swiveled her way.

Brenda stood behind the counter, coffeepot in hand. “Hi, Zoe.”

“Hey, Brenda.”

“I heard you were in town. Stayin’ for long?”

Zoe strategically avoided a direct answer. “I’ll be in and out. Mel’s wedding and all.”

Brenda refilled the cup of a customer at the counter. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Zoe looked directly at her mom. “I won’t. Do you mind watching my mom’s tables? I need a word.”

The diner only had a handful of patrons scattered about. The lunch rush had yet to start.

Sheryl started to protest. “This isn’t necessary.”

“Really?” Zoe asked, hating the fact that her mom was skirting around the needed conversation. “You don’t want to talk in private?”

Giving up, Sheryl placed the wet towel on the counter and led Zoe out the back door, away from eyes and ears.

With the grease pit and garbage cans as their backdrop, Zoe gave her mom one more chance.

“What are you doing? Does he have something over you?”

Sheryl wouldn’t look her in the eye. “No, nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?”

She sucked in a deep breath. “Have you ever loved someone, honey?”

This was worse than she thought. “You’re telling me you love that monster?”

“He’s not a monster.”

“He is! You know he is. We didn’t talk about him after he left, but that didn’t make what he did to us less real.” They’d all kept the past in the past, never really talking about all the crap Ziggy brought with him. They slept better and had far less use for Band-Aids and bags of ice for swollen body parts.

“He wasn’t wired for kids, Zoe. You kids were a handful.”

Her mother’s words soaked in. “You’re blaming us.”

“No . . . just. It was hard.”

“So what’s changed? Zanya is still there, Blaze. How long before Ziggy realizes he hates crying babies?”

Sheryl glanced up, only to quickly look away. “Zanya and Mylo are working on getting a place. And your dad doesn’t drink anymore.”

“He is an asshole even without liquor. You know it, I know it. The whole damn town knows it.”

“People can change.”

“You’re right. People can change . . . monsters like Ziggy, not so much.”

Sheryl glared at her now, animosity in her eyes. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But you don’t have to worry about him or me . . . you can just go back to your pampered little life and forget all about us.”

Zoe didn’t think her mother could hurt her more. “My pampered little life?”

With her nose high, Sheryl stared.

“I worked my ass off to get out of this town. To get where I am.” Heat filled Zoe’s face.

“I guess I didn’t do too bad of a job raising you then.”

Her mom wanted credit for the good but couldn’t take any of the blame for her shitty life decisions that affected them all. “What about Zane? Do you take credit for all the times he ended up in juvenile hall? His lack of graduating from high school? What about Zanya? Do you take credit for her falling into your path of premarital baby making without a way to support her son? Do you take credit for that?”

Her mom scowled. “I did the best I could.”

“Sure you did. By staying with the likes of Ziggy, you did your best.” Zoe clenched her fists and did everything she could to keep from yelling. “You know, Mom, I always said there is a statute of limitations on how long a person can blame their parents for their fucked-up life. I took that and fell from my family tree and rolled really far down the hill. You did not make that happen. I did.” She tapped her own chest. “So don’t try and take credit for what I’ve done with my life. If you want to belittle it, fine. But you won’t have an audience with me. I came here hoping you’d have a real explanation as to why you’re falling back in bed with that man. I guess I got it.” And for the first time in Zoe’s adult life, she had nothing more to say to her mother.