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I wrinkle my nose at her, and when she sticks her tongue out at me as if we’ve been friends for years, I’m struck with such a heavy sense of belonging with these women that I have to brace myself against the counter.
“Here, throw it to me, Pen.” She trots to the other end of the kitchen and claps, readying for the throw.
I bump Penelope the minute she rears back, sending the carrot off course.
“Cheater!” they both shout at me, but somehow, Cat manages to scramble and catch it.
The room quiets when Vera shuffles toward me. There’s a determined set to her jaw that has me shifty-eyed, glancing at the girls for assistance that doesn’t come.
I’m shocked to my core when she stops in front of me before taking a piece of carrot from the board. A woman of a few words, Vera grabs my hand and slaps the chunk in the middle of my palm.
“Uh…”Immediately no.I refuse to be the person who hits this old woman in the face with a vegetable.
Theresa giggles, shaking her head when I secretly try to hand it to her, and to my absolute horror, Vera is now standing farther than Cat was, squatting in a sumo position with her mouth wide open.
She slaps her thighs with a grunt as if to say,‘Let ‘er rip.’
I glare at the carrot in my palm, slowly closing my fingers around it.
Please, for the love of all that is holy, do not miss.
I take a deep breath and ungracefully pitch the vegetable across the room. My trajectory is off by at least a foot, the carrot is spinning out of control, and yet—despite her age and four-foot-ten stature—she hustles to catch it.
It lands on her tongue and when Vera gives an approving grunt, I drag Theresa into my chest. We hug, jumping up and down as Cat and Penelope cheer. “I did it! Holy shit. I can’t believe I did it.”
When I spin toward the living area, I freeze, feet glued to the ground the minute Theresa wriggles out of my embrace.
Marcus stands with his hands in his pockets, watching me with unbridled amusement, and despite our earlier argument, a current snaps between us.
While everyone else moves to finish preparing dinner, I reach for the last piece of carrot.
It’s no olive branch, but it might do the trick.
He rounds the couch, pulling me to him like a magnet and meeting me halfway.
“Want a turn?” I ask.
Translation: I’m sorry for being an asshole.
He studies my face quietly, starting with my brows, eyes, nose, and eventually, my lips.
After a torturous pause, he bends forward and wraps his lips around the piece I’m holding out for him. His tongue glides against the pads of my pointer finger and thumb—hot and reminiscent—before sucking it into his mouth with a playful wink.
Translation:You’re forgiven, slayer.
After dinner, everyone gathers on the patio to watch the fireworks being set off in town. Sariah stares up at a star-sprinkled sky, informing me that the fireworks signify the official end ofT’slasta.But when I search for her sister, all I find are Marcus and Penelope, deep in conversation on the opposite side of the patio.
“Have you seen Theresa?” I ask Cat as she helps settle Vera into an old rocking chair.
“She’s probably hiding in her and Sariah’s room. I’ll grab her in a sec.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll check on her,” I offer, receiving a grateful smile.
“Thanks, Heather.”
I follow the path from the patio, through the living room, to the back hallway, stopping when I find a princess-pink room with two twin beds separated by a tent like the one at the bookstore. Inside are a variety of fluffy pillows and a handmade garland, full of tiny paper heart cut-outs.
On top of a mass of unicorn-colored blankets, Theresa lies on her back, staring up at the top of the tent.
