Page 120 of Peaches & Pistols

Me: That might work.

Me: Come to our place and we’ll talk when you get here.

Olivia: Talk about what?

Olivia: Greyson, you can’t leave me on a cliff-hanger like that!

Olivia: Don’t you leave me on read!

Olivia: You’re such an asshole.

I exit out of my text thread with my bratty younger sister and open the one pinned to the top of the list.

Me: If it’s alright, I asked Olivia to come over when you and the girls get home.

Mia: Why wouldn’t that be okay?

Me: I just wanted to give you a heads-up, so you aren’t blindsided when you come home. I’m going to talk to her about Meredith.

Mia: Of course, I understand. I can take the girls to the library until you’re done.

Me: You don’t need to take the girls to the library. You can bring them home like normal.

Mia: Okay. I’ll bring them home and we’ll stay out of the way while you talk.

Me: What are you talking about?

Me: Mia, I need you right here beside me. I can’t do this without you.

Mia: Then that’s where I’ll be.

Mia: I’m next in the pick-up line. See you soon. I love you.

Me: I love you.

I barely have time to piss before the front door slams open. Red hair that typically billows around Olivia like hellfire is pinned neatly into a bun. It must’ve been an office day today.

“Where are my nieces?” My sister brushes right past me looking for them.

“They’ll be home from school any minute.”

“I assume I’m not here for milk and cookies, so why’d you ask me over?”

“We’re not starting without Mia. But I want to talk about Meredith.” I try to ebb the fury that consumes me when I think of my mother.

Olivia sobers instantly. Fun Auntie Livy, menacing little sister is gone. In her place is a strong young woman who worked her ass off for her education and career. She calmly leaves the main space and closes herself in the bathroom, presumably to collect herself.

I try to busy myself tidying the already clean kitchen, or to put any stray dishes in the empty dishwasher, which there are none.

Mia takes such incredible care of our family and our home; I need to recognize her more for it. I intend to show her just how much I appreciate my good girl. Good damn thing I’m too stressed and simmering with anger for my dick to get hard, because now isn’t the time to be sporting a boner.

“DADDY!” A duet of tiny voices fills the apartment, with Mia in the background shouting for them to take off their shoes and hang up their jackets and backpacks by the door.

The girls tromp back to the entryway and do as she says, grumbling, “Mommy…”

With nothing stopping them, my daughters run to me—a moment I take a mental snapshot of, the love for me bursting from their little faces. I bend down and swoop a kid up in each arm and balance them on my hips as four arms wrap around my neck in a precious hug.

Through the action I glimpse Mia wiping away a tear, as grateful—if not more—for this family we’ve built.