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“He’s twice divorced, Mom.”
“Third time’s the charm.”
I shouldn’t have been offended, considering all the other things Mom had said about me over the years, but I was. The complete confidence with which she said I could never do better than Rob hit me straight in the feels.
But not enough to tell her I was dating Fairhope’s treasured upstanding citizen.
“I’d rather die alone than get back together with Rob.”
“Well, that’s just fine.” She used her hip to slam a kitchen cabinet shut. “Because apparently, you’re headed for that exact fate.”
Our conversation was interrupted by a storm in the form of my baby sister, who threw the front door open with enough force to disconnect it from its hinges, rolling up looking like every person in town had kicked her puppy.
She was red, sweaty, and buzzing. Her dress was half torn in what seemed to be a hasty escape, and her braid had come undone. I’d never seen my sister looking less than the wholesome church girl that she was, so naturally, it gave me pause.
“Where is she?” my sister bellowed, kicking away a box full of wedding goodie bags which was standing in her way (my doing, naturally).
She looked left and right, searching for her object of fury. She zeroed in on me, baring her teeth like a rabid animal.
She stomped her way into the kitchen, not bothering to answer my mother’s cry as she flung herself between us, trying to hug Trinity or maybe just prevent her from tearing every hair from my head.
“There she is. Tennessee Turner. The object of every man’s desire.”
That seemed like an unlikely way to start a conversation with someone you wanted to thank for all of their hard work on your wedding, but I still kept an open mind.
You never knew when someone might get struck by the realization that you would give up the world for them.
Refusing to look flustered, I turned around and filled my glass with tap water. I reminded myself that I hadn’t done anything wrong (other than Cruz). That whatever it was, it was a simple misunderstanding (other than Cruz), and that I had nothing to hide (also, other than Cruz).
After taking a few quick breaths, I turned back around to face her.
“Hello to you, too, little sis. Want to see the straw baskets I made for the flower girls? I laced some flowers in them.” I thought it was a nice touch.
“Not even a little. Let me ask you something.” A rictus smile marred her face. Taunting and angry and wrong. Like it had been painted in blood. She slithered toward me, like a snake about to strike. Panic clogged my throat. “Remember when you dropped out of high school? When you were pregnant? And everybody at school taunted me, stuffed my locker with condoms, and called me names because of you? How I had to eat my lunch in the restroom because I didn’t want to be harassed?”
“I remember,” I swallowed.
My whole body reacted to that memory. Hot tar spread inside my stomach. Sweat beads began forming on my brow.
She stopped behind a chair across from me, gripping the back of it. Mom stood between us in the kitchen, looking to and fro, unsure how to stop what was unraveling before her eyes.
“And remember when Bear was born and cried all night, every night, and you were losing it, and Mom and Dad had work early in the morning, so I volunteered to take care of him half the night, thaw breast milk for him, cradle him while you were catching up on sleep?”
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
Because she had done all those things.
She was just a child herself, full to the brim with compassion. It was us against the world. At least until Wyatt Costello had come into the picture and her need to ensure her future would be different from mine overrode her love for me.
And she hadn’t thrown any of it in my face until now.
“And remember when Bear needed that ear surgery, and you didn’t have the money, and I gave you all my savings from my summer job at the Children’s Ministry?”
The question was answered with a weak nod from me. I closed my eyes, trying to draw a deep breath, but to no avail.
I wanted the floor to crack open and swallow me whole. To disappear from the face of the earth, I was so ashamed of what I’d put everyone through. And of my selfishness, for yet again doing as I pleased.
For conducting this pointless affair with Cruz.
