The Davis Years (Indigo) by Nicole Green

but she tucked it away. She was good at promising herself “tomorrow” and “later”.
    Jemma sank into Davis’s side, thinking about how right being next to him felt. She was tempted to imagine that it could always be that way. Just being by Davis’s side no matter what. Forgetting all the scars Lynette and Bill had given them.
    She listened to him chat and be social and charming and all the things she’d always adored about him. She was happy simply to be held close to him throughout the evening, barely aware of what was going on around her anymore.
    Emily Rose came up to them right before everyone sat down to eat and whispered to Jemma, “Is it weird? Having Wendell here? I’m sorry, but I had to invite him. You understand, right?”
    Jemma nodded. “He’s your friend. You should invite your friends to these things.” She gave Emily Rose a one-armed hug. “Of course you want Wendell here for this. He’s one of your closest friends.”
    She smiled and gave Jemma a look that increased her feelings of guilt tenfold. “And you’re the other one.” She rolled her eyes and waved to Mrs. Braden, mouthing that she’d be there in a minute. “Mom needs me. We’ll talk some more after dinner, okay?”
    Jemma nodded and watched Emily Rose hurry off.
    “They really went all out for this thing, huh?” Davis whispered to her.
    She grinned. “You could say that.” She loved the intimacy of Davis’s whisper. He could have been telling her the weather for the next day and it would have thrilled her.
    Mrs. Braden stood and tapped a fork against her glass. “If I could have everyone’s attention, there are a few toasts in order tonight.”
    Someone cackled from the far corner of the yard. “Toasts, huh? Does anybody mind if I go first?” Everyone turned at the sound of the newcomer’s voice. Emily Rose’s uninvited sister, Tara, stood by the fence that led into the backyard, tottering on high-heeled sandals and holding a large bottle of malt liquor. Her long blonde hair lay in limp tangles against her bare shoulders.
    Surprised murmurs went up around the guest tables, especially from the Fletcher section.
    Mrs. Braden flushed and she nearly dropped her glass. Mr. Braden caught it right before it fell from her hand. “Tara. What are you doing here?”
    “Surprised to see me, Mother? I’m sure you are, too, my stuck-up sissy.”
    “Tara—”
    “What? Every since she started seeing Mister Perfect, I’ve become the hidden, horrible family secret.” Tara tottered a few steps closer and Jemma could see smudges on the straps of her white halter. Her long legs were now skinny and badly sunburned. Mascara buried lashes which framed red-rimmed eyes. Nothing like high school cheerleader Barbie Tara.
    “Tara, you know that’s not what happened. We’re not the ones who threw you away. We barely see you since you moved to Hampton.” Mrs. Braden’s hands balled into fists. Mr. Braden attempted to calm her down, but she wasn’t having it.
    “Right. She wants to pretend I never existed.” Tara glared at Emily Rose.
    “Like you pretended I didn’t exist all the way through high school?” Emily Rose glared back.
    Tara’s eyes fell on Davis. She laughed. “Even my ex-hubby’s been invited. But no invite for sis. Not to the stupid dinner. Not to the wedding. Nothing. How you been, Davis?”
    “Hi, Tara,” Davis said. Jemma moved closer to him almost without thinking about it. He tightened his hold on her and she relaxed a little against his side.
    “You’re here with . . . is that Jemma? What is she doing here? Where did you come from?”
    “Tara, I don’t think this is the appropriate time and place for you to—”
    “Oh, shut up, dear mother.” Tara sneered when she said the word dear . “I don’t care what you think anymore. You’re done ruining my life with your opinions.”
    Emily Rose jumped up from the table. “You’re not going to ruin this for me. You’ve ruined everything my whole life