Read The Accidental Book Club for Free Online Page B

crusty, and a rock band T-shirt, black faded to gray, clung to her belly uncomfortably. But underneath it all was the voice, the voice that Jean remembered from the last time she’d seen her. The voice, clear and angelic, was far too young to be saying the things it was saying, and for its owner to be worrying about the things she was worrying about. Jean felt as if her heart split in two as she remembered the sweet little girl who used to climb up into her lap, thrusting books at her with wide, eager eyes, and she tried to pair the image with this strange child who wore her hurt and anger on the outside like a coat.
    “Oh, how very melodramatic of you,” Laura said. “You must be so proud, Curt, turning her against me like this.”
    Curt’s hands flew up to his shoulders innocently. “I didn’t turn anyone against you, Laura. You’ve done that all by yourself. But she’s right. You’re an alcoholic and you need rehab. This isn’t the first time I’ve said that to you. Not by a long stretch. Maybe you’ll listen if it comes from Bailey.”
    “And a sixteen-year-old kid would know so much about alcoholism because of why again?” Laura asked.
    “Is that a serious question?” Curt answered. “I’ll spell it out for you. She knows so much about alcoholism because her mother”—he pointed at Laura—“that’s you, is an alcoholic.”
    “Oh, ho-ho, is that so, Mr. Perfect? Well, let me tell you something about what’s wrong with me, then. It isn’t the booze. It’s not having a husband to rely on. How convenient that you left me right when the parenting got tough. For better or for worse, remember?”
    “It’s been worse for a long time.”
    She leveled hard eyes at him, making Jean feel uncomfortable and in the way. “Boy, don’t I know it.”
    They continued bickering, and Jean watched Bailey, who stood behind her father, her eyes moving back and forth between the two of them, as if she were watching them physically duel, but her face was turned down, her hair obscuring it like a veil, and Jean’s heart just kept breaking into pieces and more pieces because she could see it. Even if they couldn’t see it, she could see it—her daughter and her son-in-law were ruining this little girl.
    Jean took a step forward so that she was between them. “You two need to stop doing this in front of Bailey.” She sensed Bailey’s head tilt up just the slightest at the sound of her name.
    “No offense, Mom, but you shouldn’t even be here. I appreciate your concern, but this isn’t your business,” Laura responded. “It’s him. If he’d just leave me alone like divorced people do . . .”
    “We’re not divorced. I’d like to save the marriage, in case you forgot.”
    “Why? So you can live off my paycheck while you hang out with your buddies all the time and then come home and belittle me for finding a life while you were gone?”
    “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    Jean didn’t know what to say. As impossible as marital fights were—and she and Wayne had had their share of them—inserting oneself into someone else’s marital fight was even more futile. Her gaze roamed back to her granddaughter, who happened to be looking right at her, a smirk on her face. But it was an unkind smirk, as if she was daring Jean to say her name again—challenging Jean to bring her back into this nonsense.
    Jean looked away, uncomfortable under that gaze. “Laura, I think maybe just a couple days to recover might not be such a bad idea,” she said.
    “So is this an intervention now?” When Jean didn’t answer her, Laura shook her head and stared at the tiles for a few moments. “Fine,” she said. “Fine. You all want to lock me away in some rehab program? Fine. I’ll go. I could use some time off. But when your lives are still shit while I’m gone, you’ll see that I’m the one holding it all together. Not you.” She pointed at Curt, and then at Bailey and Jean. “Not you. Not you. Just