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My heart hurts at the many times I asked this woman for help, only for her to turn my sorrow into entertainment for her boring life. I remember how she stole my money when I lived with her. I recall how she often promised to help me escape, only to find excuses to never show. Finally, I think of how Silas demands what he wants in life while I’m always begging for scraps.
“I’m on my way out the door, but I’ll call you soon,” I lie, choosing to leave her hanging.
Tossing the phone aside, I close my heart to Darlie and her bullshit. Rosemary has already treated me better in a single day than my aunt did in thirty years. I need to focus on good people and leave behind the toxic assholes.
That’s why I’m excited about the playdate with Ruin’s sister.
“Wynonna’s a cool chick,” Silas reassures me before he leaves to join his club brothers for a ride. “She’s a good friend to have.”
I’ve long struggled around women. I don’t think I’ve ever felt comfortable in my skin. When I was a nerd, I wanted to be a cool dropout type. When I was an actual dropout, I wanted to be soft and sexy. When Aunt Darlie dressed me up like a high-class hooker, I wanted to be an all-American girl. When I moved in with Neal, his sisters gave me a makeover, leaving me looking like a man. He was so pissed at my butch haircut that he kicked my ass and two of theirs.
By then, I assumed everyone hit each other. The only reasons I never got violent with people were a) I remembered how it felt after a slap or a shove, or b) usually the people I wanted to hurt most were capable of making me pay for my efforts.
Though I’ll never be a fighter, I wouldn’t mind having more style. So far, I’ve met the sexy, ballbuster Kourtney, who made me feel like a troll in comparison. There was also Selene and Yazmin with their casually glamorous beauty. The only person who doesn’t intimidate me style-wise is hippie-relaxed Rosemary. I’ve found myself imitating her by braiding my hair the last few days. No matter how old I get, I’m always copying someone else.
Today, I have no idea what to expect with Wynonna. Is she one of those sloppy moms like me? Or an always put-together super soccer mom like the ones who called me “hillbilly deluxe” one time at the grocery store when all four kids had a meltdown?
I peek through the shades as Wynonna arrives with her two kids. The woman’s wavy brown hair flies around in the spring, pre-storm wind. She’s wearing blue jeans, a beige T-shirt, a flannel top, and cowboy boots. She removes four-year-old Ralph Junior from the SUV first. Two-year-old Esther soon joins him. The kids’ ages are perfect. Silas claims they’re well-behaved, but the boy might try to convert us to his cult.
“Ralph Junior’s weird but don’t mention anything,” he said last night at dinner when Blair asked about them.
My daughter stands nearby in her best shorts-and-T-shirt combo. She keeps trying to fix her hair with her good hand.
Like me, Blair doesn’t know where she belongs. I told her once how I wished I had stayed with the nerd kids at school. Somehow, I sensed my life would have turned out better. She looked at me like I was fooling myself.Yeah, the nerd table wasn’t saving me from my fate.
I hope Blair can do better in life. She could find good friends like Silas did. He met many of the founding members when he was just a boy. Now in his early forties, he still calls them family. Those tight bonds are what I want for Blair.
“Don’t worry,” Rosemary says, walking into the room with Beau following her. “Wynonna is a country girl. Simple, sassy, and only a little nasty.”
Frowning at that last part, I look at Beau who smiles at me. He’s gotten attached to Rosemary, often shadowing her since she painted with him. I feel a little jealous at how much the kids have bonded with the new people. Beckett regularly wants Silas to pick him up.
“He thinks I’m a ladder,” Silas explained when Beckett asked after dinner. “It’s not personal. He just wants to see the world from up high.”
“I think he likes you.”
“How does your thing make more sense than mine?” he replied while Beckett grinned at me from his ladder-daddy.
“I think you have more value than your height.”
“Your mom’s got a crush on me,” he told Blair. “Do you want me to carry you around so you can see the world from up high?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
Silas got a kick out of her reaction. Neal would have been annoyed. He never understood why the kids didn’t do whatever they were told and stop asking questions. His biggest concern was gaining respect. The world might think he was shit, but he expected his children to worship him.
In contrast, Silas wants the kids to like him. He’s a large, fearsome man accustomed to scaring the shit out of people. I think he worried the kids would see him as a monster. When Blair tells him no, she’s proving she doesn’t fear him. It’s the same with Beckett wanting up.
Brooklyn’s warming up to everyone slower. She’s too paranoid about me leaving her to enjoy anyone else.
“I’ll make sure Beau doesn’t feel left out,” Blair says, already assuming Wynonna’s kids will bully her brother.
Beau doesn’t acknowledge this comment or the people entering the house. He’s currently very focused on lining blocks along the back wall. I doubt he’ll pay much attention to Ralph Junior despite them being the same age.
Wynonna enters us as if already in the middle of a conversation.
“I warn people spring is wild and windy, yet I still don’t wrangle my hair properly. I’m starting to think the problem is me.”
Wynonna shoves her messy hair from her eyes and looks over the family room before smiling at me.
