AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Rhonda,” my father, the world's worst mediator, says, but she doesn’t even bother to move her head to slice her daggers at him.
“I’m not going to, Mom. Don’t worry. That’s… ancient history.” She stares at me, inspecting my face for lies and untruths, but just like her learning to ignore my father, I’ve learned how to make my armor Rhonda-proof, to make a facade she’ll approve of.
When she sees exactly what she wants, she nods, then changes the subject to gossip about someone in her group of backstabbing friends.
“Hey, Stell, wait,” Evie says as I walk out the door toward my car. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, hoping she’ll let me go easily but also knowing there’s no chance in hell. My steps slow, and hers quicken until we’re standing in a shadowy spot of the yard where, if our mother stood on the front steps, she wouldn’t be able to see us.
It’s the spot Riggs used to stand in, waiting for me to sneak out of my window back when he was mine.
I shake my head, knocking that thought out.
“Yeah?”
“How are you?”
“I’m fine, why?”
“Armor down, Stella. I’m not Mom, and I’m not going to narc to her, either.”
“There was a day,” I start, my words trailing off.
“There was. And then I came to my senses about the family we were born into.” She gives me a look, but I just shrug. She sighs before asking what she really wants to, like I knew she would. Evie is the only person who actually knows what happened all those years: the good, the bad, and the very, very ugly.
“How are you doing with Riggs being home?” she asks, her voice low and cautious. I suck in a deep breath at her saying his name like that, calling him Riggs, but it’s like I’m breathing underwater. But even though it wasn’t the same, she loved him too. She knew him and grew up with him and saw him as a brother, and when he was gone, I know in her own way, she felt that, too.
“He came to see me,” I announce for some reason I can’t figure out. Her head moves forward, her mouth dropping open.
“What?”
“Three days ago, he came to my place. He,” I scrunch up my nose, fighting emotions I don’t want to address and tell her the worst of it. “Brought Gracie.”
“Gracie,” she whispers as if the dog was actually my child and she was the aunt we pretended she was as if she had ever met the dog ever, rather than just seeing pictures and hearing stories.
“What did he want?”
“To talk,” I say, jiggling my keys in my hand.
I want to go home.
I want to go home and forget about tonight and the fact that the entire town is buzzing with conversations about Riggins and the fact that Riggins is back here in Ashford.
I want to grab my guitar and write a song and then ignore that song, cataloging the emotion so I don’t have to feel it anymore.
That’s my way, after all. Why talk about or process my feelings when I can turn them into something beautiful, get it out, and never have to think about it again?
“And did you?”
“Nothing to talk about,” I say, tipping my head back, taking in the stars.
“Nothing to talk about? Are you insane? Stella,” she starts, her eyes wide and worried. I take a step backward.
“I gotta get home, early shift tomorrow.” Her face goes soft, concern laced within it.
“Stella—”
“Come for dinner soon. I want to hear about what you’ve got going on.” I take another step back towards my car.
“Stell, we really need to talk?—”
