How to Handle a Heartbreaker (20 page)

“He did?” Her dad stared. “You never said anything.”

“Because I didn’t want you confronting him. He’d have told you what I really do for a living.” There. Bag open, cat out.

The only thing to be heard in the dining room were Julia’s lip smacking and gurgling and the drone of cartoons and kid chatter drifting in from the living room.

“You know, this is better than
Downton
Abbey
for drama,” Jack murmured.

“Shh.” Teresa turned to her. “Well? Tell us. Are you stripping? Hooking? What?”

Meg gasped. “
Teresa.
”

“
Meg.
” Teresa huffed. “Don’t be such a prude. It must be something scary if she kept silent about the asshat.”

Of her two older sisters, Teresa was her favorite; she’d made her share of mistakes and tried to laugh at them. Meg took herself far too seriously. To hear Meg tell it, she’d never done a thing wrong in her life, had married the perfect man, and had two adorable children. Abby thought it telling they couldn’t find a more creative name for their firstborn than Tim. With any luck, the kid wouldn’t grow up to be a dunce like his father, or a holier-than-thou know-it-all like his mother.

She winked at Teresa, then faced her parents. “Mom, Dad.”
Just
tell
them. Let the truth set you free.
“I write books for a living.”

Her mother gasped, “Why, Abby. That’s
wonderful
. Why would you keep that a secret from us?”

Meg’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of books?”

“Yeah, what kind?” Jack leaned forward. “This is getting really interesting.”

Teresa smacked him but laughed.

“Well, they’re romance books. They’re kind of…steamy.”

“Steamy?” her father asked with a frown.

“Yes, Dad. They have S-E-X in them.”

Everyone gaped at her.

Meg’s expression contorted to one of horror. “Oh my God. You’re one of those women living in sin. You’re writing porn?”

Teresa snorted. “Say it a little louder, Meg. I don’t think New Jersey heard you.”

Meg shook her head, looking on the verge of tears. “No. Please tell me my little sister is not writing trash.”

Funny, but when Vanessa called it smutty or raunchy, Abby knew she was playing. Sure, Vanessa liked to make fun of her, but God forbid anyone else mess with Abby. Vanessa would be the first to line up to defend her. Abby’s sister saying the same thing made her career sound dirty, unworthy of respect.

And that hurt.

Abby clenched her jaw and did her best not to lash out at her ignorant, judgmental, overly dramatic sibling. “First of all, it’s not
trash
. Romantic fiction is a billion-dollar industry.”

“So is
porn
,” Tim added in a quieter voice. “Tell me you use a pseudonym.”

“I do, but that’s not the point.”

Meg breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I can’t imagine what I’d tell my friends at church.”

“That your sister writes inspirational stories about God,” Teresa said and turned to Abby with a wink. “Don’t they usually finish up their business with ‘Oh, God. Oh, God!’?”

Jack burst out laughing, and Teresa joined him.

But Abby didn’t smile, because in addition to her disapproving sister and brother-in-law, her parents seemed less than pleased.

“Honey,” her mother said slowly. “I thought you had that web design business.”

“I do, Mom.”
Be
patient, Abby. They just need time to process.
“But my true love has always been writing. I worked at the tech firm while writing my first series. By the time my second series started, I was making enough from writing to support myself, so I branched off from the tech company and started my own web design firm.” At about the time she’d started dating Kevin. “I did it so I could scale back my web clients and ramp up the writing.”

Her father rubbed his forehead. “You like doing this?”

“It’s not a bad thing, Dad. You look like you just swallowed a lemon.” Abby frowned. “I’m happy and I’m successful.” The first time she’d said that out loud. “I make a decent living. Do you know how hard it is to make a living writing? But I’m doing that and still running my own small web design company. In
Seattle
—maybe the most expensive city in the world,” she exaggerated. Though for what she paid for a cup of coffee at home, she’d get a full pot in town here.

“Well, I’m a bit hazy on the whole steamy romance book thing. But if you’re happy, I’m happy.” Her father grinned.

One down. Teresa gave her a thumbs-up. Two. But her mother, Meg, and Tim continued to look at her as if she’d started worshipping Satan. Abby sighed. “You know what? I don’t care whether you like it or not. I’m a writer.” She forced herself to be proud and not ashamed for providing the stories she herself liked to read. “Maybe if society wasn’t so prudish about physical intimacy, this wouldn’t be an issue. My characters fall in love and in lust. Why is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not, honey.” Her mother seemed sincerely bothered. “It’s just… What do I tell people?”

“Just tell them what we’ve always told them. That she works in web design.” Meg shrugged. “That’s what I plan to say if asked.”

“You know what, Meg?” Abby said as she stood. “Maybe if you weren’t such a tightass, you’d have fun with the fact that your sister is a writer.”

Meg’s face turned red. “Writer of
porn
? I don’t think so.”

Something crashed and the kids yelled.

“Wait. What’s that? Your terror of a toddler is destroying something
else
in the living room, I’ll bet.” Abby gave Meg a wide smile. “Spend a little more time working on your own flaws and I guarantee you won’t be spouting off about what you see as mine.”

Tim gasped. “Did you just call our son a flaw?”

“No, Tim. I’m calling your wife a lousy mother.”

Meg stood, pointed her finger, and started yelling insults. Tim joined her. Abby fired back, tired of being the family whipping girl. At some point, Meg said something so ridiculous Teresa burst out laughing and Jack hurried to grab the kids and take them all downstairs for games in the basement. Their father sat there watching the train wreck while their mother glanced back and forth between them, as if not sure what to say.

“So much for thinking my family might actually support me.” Abby glared at Meg.

Her father frowned. “Hey.”

“Not you, Dad.”

“Or me. I think your job is terrific. What’s your pen name?” Teresa asked.

Abby enunciated clearly. “Abigail D. Chatterly. And I’d like to say a few more things before I suggest we stop talking about this altogether.” She didn’t know if she liked the way Teresa stared at her. In shock or awe?

“Fine by me,
Abigail
,” Meg said snidely.

Her mother had the nerve to scowl at Abby. “Some Thanksgiving this turned out to be.”

“Oh my gosh. You think it’s somehow odd that I’d be upset my family, minus Teresa—” Jack had returned and raised his hand to be noticed. “—Jack, and Dad, don’t support me? Because I have to tell you, Mom. You disappoint me the most. You’ve always told us to reach for our dreams, to be independent and not stop until we reach our goals. I always wanted to write. Now I’m doing it, and people
pay
me
to do it.

“If any of you would take the time to actually
read
one of my books, you’d be able to tell the difference. Which brings up the question of how you can even compare my work to porn, unless you’ve seen enough porn to know what you’re talking about,” she aimed at her sister, and Meg flushed bright red.

“Could we
please
stop with the P word?” her mother asked with desperation.

Teresa frowned. “But I thought P was for
pussy
. Am I wrong? Is it penis? Penetration?” Teresa’s face cleared, as if she’d had a revelation. “Oh, right.
Porn
.”

Their father burst out laughing. Tim looked as if he was about to suffer apoplexy, like Meg.

“Teresa, really.” Margaret Dunn’s face was beet red.

“Oh, come on, Mom.” Abby huffed. “It’s not like any of us were the result of a virgin birth.”

“Definitely not Abby, the pornographer,” Meg pointed out and Tim nodded.

“Oh my God. Tell me you and Mr. Monotone aren’t judging. Because you go to church regularly you’re better than us?” She turned to Tim. “And please tell me why your degree in biology makes you so overly qualified to manage a chicken plant that pays eight bucks an hour.”

Tim literally raised his nose in the air. “I help raise healthy poultry that feeds half the state. My job is more than important.”

“To Foghorn Leghorn, maybe,” Abby muttered.

Teresa and Jack coughed to hide laughter.

Tim glared. “Meg, I’m getting the kids. We’re leaving.” He stood up, threw down his napkin, and stormed from the room.

“See, Teresa?” Jack said with a wide grin. Abby was liking him more and more. “That’s where the P word comes into play. Tim is a being a…you can say it.”

“Pussy.”

“That’s it. Pussy. Yep. Oh, and I’m sorry, Meg. But I never liked Tim either. He treats me and Teresa like shit because he disapproves of your sister’s seventeen divorces.”

“Two, you idiot. Maybe three if you don’t watch it.” Teresa narrowed her eyes but grinned at him anyway.

Their mother rose and left the table. Meg just stood there with her eyes wide open, gaping like a dying fish.

Abby would have followed her mother, unhappy to have made her upset, but her father stopped her. “No, let me. Honestly, she’s more upset about you and Kevin not being an item than any of this. Though I must say you threw me for a loop with the fake writing name and the sex.” He grimaced and rose from the table. “Let’s just call it romance for adults. I am your father.”

Abby hugged him. “Thanks, Dad.” She let him go. “But I don’t understand why Mom should care about Kevin. We’ve been broken up for more than a year. We’re over.”

“I know that and you know that. But she always liked the boy. Wanted you two to marry and have kids to settle down close to home. She worries about you so far away from us. With him marrying Miriam, we’ll be seeing a lot more of him. Rumor has it they’re moving here.”

“Good—for me, not you. He’s a jerk. Told me I was too fat, too boring. Then too perverted for his tastes. As if wanting my boyfriend to kiss me in public and hold hands is asking too much.” She didn’t mention the bondage, toys, or edible body chocolate she’d wanted to try.

Jeffrey Dunn scowled. “You know, there’s another P word you could you use in this situation. Kevin is a
prick
, with a capital P.” He patted her shoulder. “I’ll see to your mother. You and Meg fight it out.” Under his breath, he added, “And thanks for getting rid of Tim. Another prick I have to tolerate at family gatherings.” He left to find her mother.

Abby could only be glad she had an early flight out in the morning. Not stretching her time at home had been an extremely smart move on her part.

She turned to see Meg glaring at her. “What? Upset that your perfect family is now smudged by my bad name?”

“No one will know.” Meg sneered. “You’re going back to Seattle tomorrow. So it’s no big deal.
You’re
no big deal.” Then she twisted the knife and added, “I was invited to Kevin and Miriam’s wedding. I wasn’t going to go, but now I plan to attend.”

“Well, give him a big old congratulations from me. And while you’re at it, express my condolences to Miriam.”

“You’re such a little bitch. You know what, Abby? Don’t call me. Don’t write me. And please,
don’t
come back.” Meg turned and stalked to Tim and Timmy by the front door, Julia clutched tightly to her chest.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” When had she ever conversed with Meg willingly? The rare times Abby called to talk to a sister, she’d chatted with Teresa. Otherwise she stuck to talking to her mother and father, whom she truly cared for.

The sudden silence grew deafening. Abby turned to see Teresa and Jack staring at her. “What?” she snapped.

“So you’re Abigail D. Chatterly?” Teresa asked.

“Yeah. So?” Though Teresa had been on her side earlier, she might have done it to snub Meg. Abby was ready for round two.

“So
Fireman’s Kiss
is like my favorite book!” Teresa shouted and jumped up from her seat to hug Abby. “Oh my God. My friends are not going to believe this.”

Abby blinked.

“I know. Shocking that she actually has friends,” Jack teased. “Oh, and I have to thank you as well. Because after Teresa reads one of your books, we usually end up having a really, really good night.”

“God. TMI, Jack.” But Abby laughed, feeling good if not great about the way dinner had ended. She talked to her sister and new brother-in-law for a while. Eventually her father returned to the table with her mother, but Margaret Dunn insisted on pretending the earlier argument with Meg had never happened.

Resigned to making her mother happy with a charade of joyful content, Abby finished her evening at her parents’ counting down the minutes until she returned to Seattle. To
home
.

The next evening, Vanessa met her at the SeaTac airport. Abby had secretly hoped Brody would meet her at the airport and felt a little let down when she saw just Vanessa. But after she’d all but bolted after his suggestion to move in with him, she couldn’t blame him.

“Hey, Big Foot. How was your Thanksgiving?” she asked Vanessa and grabbed her bag from the carousel.

“Oh, just great. I had to do the perfunctory call-home thing that I dread at holidays. My parents are pleasant, and they still try to be friendly, but it’s rough. I’m not sure they’re actually considered living anymore, since the robotic quality of my father’s voice has only gotten worse.”

Abby flinched. They walked out of the airport together and through to the parking garage. “Yeah? Well I finally came clean to my family about my books.”

“And? Don’t leave me hanging.” They entered the car and drove out of the garage and finally toward home.

“Well, the big news is that Kevin is getting married to the lady next door.”