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“I think we can settle this without committing a misdemeanor,” Daisy noted.
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be as satisfying,” Poppy said.
“I knew better,” I said aloud, which hurt so much more than it did when I’d said it to myself.
“We believed him too.” Daisy petted my hair softly.
“I didn’t,” Poppy started. “I said from the beginning—ow!”
Daisy gave her a look over the top of my head, which must have been where her pinching hand had gone.
“How’s Mama?” I asked.
Daisy sighed. “She’s okay. I think she’s more mad at Grant than she is at his dad.”
“Ugh, fuck that guy,” Poppy spat.
“Which one?” Daisy asked.
“Both of them, obviously. But that asshole Merrick coming to town to double up on us and use Mama for personal gain? No. Absolutely, a hundred percent no.” She paused. “Do you think Grant was in on it? On his dad coming here?”
“No. He hates his dad.” It was my turn to pause as my doubt rose. “Or at least I thought he did. He could have been lying about that too.” That twist in my chest tightened, as did my throat. “God, this sucks.”
“What are you gonna do?” Daisy asked gently.
“Live in my burrito until he’s a million miles away.”
“Well,” Mama said from the doorway, “that might be a while, considering he’s outside.”
“What?” we said in unison, popping off the bed. My blanket slid off my head and shoulders.
“He’s outside. Should I get rid of him?”
Poppy said yes when Daisy said no. They gave each other looks.
I hadn’t said anything.
“Just hear him out,” Daisy said. “Even if it’s just for closure. Even if it’s just to tell him what a stupid asshole he is.”
“I’m all for the stupid asshole part,” Poppy agreed, “but he doesn’t deserve any more of your time and energy. And you don’t owe him anything.”
“It’s not about owing him,” Daisy said. “It’s about her owing herself. She’ll never forgive herself if she just ignores—”
“I can’t even believe you’d tell her to entertain that son of a bitch after he straight up lied—”
“I’ll see him,” I answered quietly, unfurling my blanket slowly.
Mama watched me, worried. “Are you sure?”
“This is a bad idea,” Poppy said.
“Oh, leave her be,” Daisy chided.
I scooted off the bed, ignoring them. “I’m sure.”
Mama nodded once. “I’ll stall him. I think you might want to take a look in the mirror real quick before you head out. Maybe brush your teeth. I’m just sayin’.”
On a cursory glance in the mirror in the corner, I made a face. I smoothed down my ratted hair and made for the bathroom.
“I’m gonna egg his car,” Poppy said as they filed down the hallway.
“You will not,” Mama answered. “Jo, honey—you might want to hurry. I don’t know how long I can hold her off.”
I couldn’t even laugh. Or smile. I stuck my toothbrush in my mouth instead.
My chest was a painful flutter of nerves and emotion, too many to catch just one. Anger that he was here, that he’d come so soon to put me in a position to face him. There was the pain, the hurt I felt knowing he was here, right here, and I couldn’t find comfort in him. Longing for times when he’d made me so happy, then humiliation in its wake when I remembered he’d played me. And fear—fear that I’d listen, that I’d trust him again when he’d broken my faith so completely.
Shame that I wanted to listen. That I wanted him back. That I wanted to believe him even now.
I spit into the sink and swiped fresh tears from my cheeks, brushed my hair and tried not to look at my reflection with too much scrutiny. At least my ass looked good in these sleep shorts.
I shamelessly hoped it hurt him desperately to know this ass was no longer his.
With a deep breath, I headed in the same direction my family had gone, toward the front door. They were whispering when I entered the living room but shot apart like shrapnel on my entrance.
“You didn’t let him in?” I asked.
“Figured you might need an escape route,” Mama said, cupping my arm when I approached. “You sure about this?”
I nodded.
The four of us seemed to take equal deep breaths before I turned for the door and stepped out.
And I immediately wished I’d had Mama send him off.
If it was hard not to miss him after he’d taken a baseball bat to my heart, I was doomed on the sight of him there in jeans and boots and a T-shirt, leaning against that stupid sports car with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground.
I folded my arms and hugged my middle, stopping at the top of the porch stairs.
When he saw me in his periphery, he straightened up in surprise.
“Jo,” he said, just one ragged word so full of pain, he somehow broke my heart again.
