Page 101 of Peaches & Pistols

My twenty-sixth birthday came and went, ushering me into a new chapter of my life. I happily said goodbye to twenty-five. The party to end all parties was the perfect way to celebrate both me and Everly, so on my actual birthday, we celebrated by hunkering down in the living room with pizza and movies.

It was the best birthday I’ve ever had.

As time ticked on, that nagging voice telling me when something seems too good to be true, it probably is has gotten louder. Despite silencing it time and time again, it’s rolled around in my subconscious, keeping me on edge.

It’s the last day before spring break and I’m towards the front of the pick-up line, early as always. The bell rings and a knock to the passenger window startles me. I roll it down quickly to greet the principal of Swiftwater Elementary.

“Mr. Tam, how are you? Is everything alright?” I ask politely, despite the nerves cartwheeling in my stomach.

“Fine, fine. Thank you for asking. As for if everything being alright, that’s for you to decide,” Mr. Tam says ominously, sending my blood pressure through the roof of the car.

“A gentleman came to the front office today asking for Everly, stating he was her father.”

My head whips in every direction, searching for Carter. This can’t be happening.

I can’t breathe, I need to get the girls out of here.

“We declined to give him any information because he’s not on her list of approved contacts. He grew quite agitated and eventually left in a huff. It’s our responsibility to notify the parent, in this case, you, of incidents like this,” he says uncomfortably.

I nod, unable to force a smile, death surely written across my face. Mr. Tam taps on the window frame twice before walking away.

I do the only thing I can think of.

Tell Greyson.

Me: He’s here.

The girls race to the car and scramble inside to escape the icy March wind. They buckle themselves like they always do, but I’m paralyzed with fear, unable to turn around and ask about their day.

“What’s wrong Mommy?” Harper asks. Hearing her call me mommy still warms my heart, but today I can’t appreciate it the way I should—when it might be the last time I hear it.

“You look like when other Daddy used to come home,” Everly says, breaking my heart.

A honk behind me snaps me from my trance, and I pull out of the pick-up line and onto Main Street.

“Everything’s fine, girls. Mommy’s just not feeling well. I’m going to take you to the ranch for the afternoon, okay?” I manage, even if I sound like a reanimated corpse.

The girls cheer, quickly forgetting my strange behavior and joyously chatter in the backseat. As we make our way through town, every tall man with brown hair catches my eye giving me repeated heart attacks.

The car drives itself to Lucky Spurs Ranch. It’s a miracle we made it in one piece. I park in front of Delilah’s therapy barn, and she comes out to see who’s here. The girls unbuckle and swing the car doors open, slamming them shut.

One look at me through the windshield and she knows something is horribly wrong.

“I’ve got the girls. Do whatever you need to do. It’s going to be okay,” she assures me.

Nothing is okay. It never will be, ever again.

The rational side of me says to stay at the ranch where there’s safety in numbers, but my instincts override logic, and I put the car back in gear.

They say people react to danger in one of four ways. Fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. When I was growing up, fawning usually got our parents off our case. Sometimes Charlie would fight, but it never worked.

Carter’s volatility made it impossible to anticipate whether I should freeze or fawn, and inevitably, I often chose wrong and was stuck facing the consequences. I never dared fight.

Today, for the first time, I fly. I have to run, get out of here, far away from Carter. I can’t let him hurt these incredible people I’ve come to love and consider to be my family.

I suppose leaving Carter in the first place was a delayed flight response, but this is something different entirely. I have no control over my body or decision making.

In a blink, I’m parked behind the hardware store, slipping on the icy steps leading to our apartment. Within minutes, I’ve destroyed Everly’s bedroom, emptying her closet to find our suitcases, where I’d stored them all those months ago.