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Heath, Amanda-Make Me

 

 


 

Chapter 1

 

 

“PAISLEY! ANSWER YOUR phone!” The voice of my best friend, Carly, filters in through my sleep. I blink open my eyes and realize that she isn’t actually here. She took my phone one night at a party and programmed her voice as her ringtone.

I grab the offending thing from the floor in my bedroom and answer. “What?” I snarl, rubbing my eyes.

“Good morning to you, too, grumpy,” she states in her sweet, china doll voice.

“What do you want?” I say in the same voice, only minus the growl.

I can see her in my mind. Her porcelain skin and amazing brown eyes. Her long, blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail, wearing a pair of jean shorts and a pink tank top. I’ve been best friends with her most of my life. She lives two trailers down from me with her dad and older brother. Her dad is a nice guy but he has the “can’t get right gene”.

“Do you need a ride to school, grumpy? I’m leaving in like ten minutes,” she says and I can see her shit-eating grin through the phone.

“Dang,” I say, rubbing my eyes some more. “Yeah, but we’ll have to be late. BeeBee isn’t awake yet. I’ve got to feed her and make sure she’s taken care of for the rest of the day.” BeeBee is my little sister. She’s two and full of life.

“I was only joking about the ten minutes, silly. It’s only seven.” She laughs and I smack my forehead. Not one of my finer moments. My alarm clock is sitting right next to my bed and it reads 7:01 a.m.

“Thanks for the wake up call, asshole.” I hang up before she gets onto me for cursing. I used to curse all the time, before my little sister came along. She doesn’t need to hear that from me. Mom curses enough for the entire world.

I scramble out of bed and head into the only bathroom in the house. I find a needle and rubber tube sitting on the bathroom counter. Instead of freaking out like someone else might, I quickly throw them away in the trash. Mom’s new boyfriend deals in heroin, so right now it’s her drug of choice. I don’t really care; the woman has never shown me any love.

I grab my brush from under the sink and pull my hair up into a ponytail. I line my eyes with liner and brush on some mascara. After that I take a moment to study my reflection. My hair is long, curly, and auburn. I spend a lot of time in the sun, so there are a lot of blonde highlights running through the strands. My eyes are deep green with shades of blue streaking through. My eyes are huge, and so are my lips, which are shaped like a bow.

It’s really comical when I run into a group of guys I don’t know. They stop in their tracks, staring at my lips. Derek, Carly’s older brother, says they are perfect, perfect for sucking. Don’t worry – I slapped him upside his head for that one.

I run back into my room and throw on a pair of low-rise skinny jeans and a green shirt. It’s a few years old, so it’s skintight. Not the kind of attention I want to bring to myself, but I’m dirt poor and I can’t afford new clothes. My mom won’t buy any clothes for me since I started throwing her drugs out. The skinny jeans are hers. If she isn’t going to buy me anything new, or give me money to get it myself, I’ll just steal hers.



I pad into my little sister’s room, which is next door to mine. Her little, red head is peeking up from under her covers. I reach an arm into her crib and rub her back. Her little eyes open, showcasing her amazing, light green eyes. My little sister is gorgeous; I’m going to be beating boys off with sticks when she grows up.

“Good morning, BeeBee,” I coo, picking her up. I lay her down on her fluffy pink rug on the floor. We can’t afford to buy a toddler bed, so she has to wear pull-ups at night. I had this little angel potty trained four days before she turned two.

“Morwing Pawisley,” she tells me, rubbing her eyes. She’s a light sleeper, unlike me, so she can’t sleep with me. According to Carly, I toss, turn, and punch in my sleep. It would kill me to give BeeBee a black eye.

I get her changed into her day clothes and she toddles behind me into the living room/kitchen area. Mom is either really high and out of it or she’s passed out. When I hear a snore, I realize she is passed out.

BeeBee and I sit at the kitchen table while I feed us both from the same bowl of cereal. I’m seriously lucky our next-door neighbor loves kids. She has one of the nicest trailers in the park, and it doesn’t hurt that she keeps it spotless. She babysits a few kids, and when she found out about our situation she offered to watch BeeBee for free. I think I cried for like ten minutes on Ms. Summers’ floor. She sat besides me and patted my back the whole time. I freaking love that women.

After we finish eating I grab my backpack and pick BeeBee up. I take a look at the trailer before I exit. One old patched up couch sits against the wall next to the door. A small box TV sits on a table across from the couch. The carpet is an ugly brown with stains galore, all over it. The kitchen has an old wooden table with four plastic chairs. The fridge is ancient and barely holds the food. We used to have a microwave, but in-between boyfriends my mom pawned it. The stove is old and barely works. I’ve stopped trying to cook on it. Instead I pitch in with Carly’s dad and we eat dinner over there every night.

Shaking my head, I head next door to Ms. Summers’ to drop off BeeBee. BeeBee is not her actual name. My mom, believe it or not, comes from money. I’ve never met any of her family, but she rants and raves about how loaded they are. She says they don’t care about us, and hey, if that’s the way they feel, then screw them. Anyway, mom thought it would be funny to name us with big names. Rich names. I’m Paisley Noelle Vaughn and BeeBee is Beatrice Victoria Vaughn. I was not about to call my sister Beatrice. No thank you.

Ms. Summers happily takes an equally happy BeeBee. “I’ll see you after school, Ms. Summers!” I say on my way out the door. I would get a job but Mom would just steal all my money. And I couldn’t ask Ms. Summers to watch her that long. As soon as I graduate though, I’ll be finding permanent employment. That way I can pay Ms. Summers and she’ll only have to watch her for eight hours, while I’m at work.

“Paisley, looking sexy as usual,” Derek says when I knock on their door. Besides his pervy ways, he’s a decent dude. He doesn’t drink or do any drugs and has a steady girlfriend. He also has a steady job at a mechanic shop in town. He hits on me because I think it’s funny and it annoys Carly.

“Looking pervy as usual, Derek.” I smirk and dip under his arm to enter their home. Mr. Peters is at the kitchen table reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee. He works over night at the local chicken plant, and luckily he’s had this job for six months. Maybe he’ll stay away from the alcohol this time.

About seven months ago he wrecked the family car after a night of boozing, and I’m pretty sure Derek kicked the shit out of him. I think it was a wake up call and he is actually trying to get his act together this time.

“Morning, Paisley. Want some coffee?” he asks me.

I nod and head over to the table, setting my bag on the floor. Mr. Peters is in his early forties and has dirty blonde hair with greys growing at his temples. His eyes are brown but I’ve never seen them sparkle, not like his children’s. Derek takes the seat next to me and grins as he places my cup down in front of me.

Unknown to Carly (and really, I feel bad about it) I lost my virginity after a party to Derek. I was really drunk and had just found out Mom was pregnant. Derek was equally as drunk, and you know… things happen. He felt really bad about it the next morning; the only thing I felt bad about was puking all over his bedroom floor. It was just my virginity – who takes that seriously nowadays?

Derek, though, is super hot. His dirty blonde hair is long, down to his shoulders, and he keeps it tied back. His brown eyes are the color of dark chocolate and they smolder. It’s really sexy but I only get a tiny twinge of lust. We only had sex the one time, but it was my first time, so of course it sucked. He wanted to date me, but I was not going there. I don’t want a boyfriend. Never have, never will. I don’t even know what got into me the night I spent with him. I don’t get turned on, or go gaga over a guy. That’s Carly’s department.

“Paisley! Let’s go before Derek decides to devour your face.” Her eyes are bugging out of her head when I turn to look at her. Those eyes are pointed at Derek so I look over at him. Of course his eyes are pointed at my lips. Being the bitch that I am, I nibble on my bottom one for a second and blink my eyes a few times at him. When he starts panting I giggle and get up.

Mr. Peters slaps him on the back of the head, knocking Derek out of his lust haze. “Damn, Paisley, if you would have me, I would treat you so…right.” He winks at me as he follows my eye movement.

“Don’t lie to me Derek,” I exclaim. “Donna would kill you and then me. Besides, you love her too much.”

He sighs and finally looks away. “You’re right. Y’all have a good day at school!” he shouts as Carly and I head out the front door.

“My brother is such a pervert!” she shouts as well. I can only chuckle.

After we climbed into her old Pontiac Grand Am, she starts in on me. “So…Laney said Ben was asking about you. He totally wants to date you.” I see her look at me hopefully from the corner of my eye.

I rub in-between my eyes after hearing this. I’m sick to death of her trying to find me a boyfriend. She’s been with Mark Gauthier’s for like five years. Just because she’s happy with a guy, doesn’t mean I will be. Besides, I’m happy now. “Drop it, Carly. You know I don’t want a man.”

“I don’t know why. A guy could drive you to and from school. Could help fix things up around your house. Help you with your homework. And if you find the right man, you could even have him take you out on dates that include BeeBee.” She grins over at me and I can only roll my eyes.

“I’m in freaking high school, Carly. I don’t need to settle down. I’m good how I am.” She goes to open her mouth to spew out more nonsense, so I just glower at her. She rightly shuts up.

I go through my whole day on autopilot. It’s the only way to get through high school. I’m two weeks into my senior year and I already wish I were graduated. I want to get BeeBee way from my mom so she doesn’t have to go through the things that I did.

 

***

 

 

I’m waiting for Carly at the end of the day, by her car. She comes out holding hands with Mark. Those two will be married the second they get out of high school. Mark is insanely smart, though, so I’m thinking Carly has her ticket out of the trailer park. Too bad I’ll always be stuck there.

They kiss for like ten minutes until I start clearing my throat. I have to do it five times before they break apart. “I’ll see you tonight?” he asks. Carly nods. “Later Paisley,” he states, tossing his dark brown hair out of his blue eyes. Carly didn’t do badly in the looks department either. Not bad at all.

“Later, Mark.” I wave and climb into Carly’s car. We chat about random stuff on the way home. The second she pulls to a stop in front of my house, though, I get a horrible feeling. “Will you come in with me for a second?” I ask her softly.

She looks puzzled but after seeing the look on my face she gets out with me. We silently walk into the house. If I had known this would be the second my entire life would change, I don’t know if I would have walked into that house.

My mom is lying on her side on the couch. Her left arm is hanging off with the rubber tube still tied around her arm. The needle and spoon are on lying on the floor. Her dark green eyes are open and staring lifelessly. Her greasy red hair is pulled back from her face. If she had her eyes closed she would have looked like she was sleeping.

I always knew I would come home and find her like this. I always knew I would come home and find her dead.

 

 



 

Chapter 2

 

 

I DON’T KNOW how long I sat there and stared at her lifeless body. Hours, minutes, seconds maybe. I do know it felt like an eternity. All I could think about is what I was going to do next. I’d have to drop out of school and get a job so I could make rent, pay the bills, and care for BeeBee. I didn’t want to drop out, but I could always go back and get my GED.

My mother wasn’t a loving mother and I honestly wasn’t that close to her. Of course I love her, she did give me life, and she never hit me or screamed at me. She just never gave a damn. Everything was about her. Now I have to upend my own life just to care for another unwanted baby she brought into the world.

Before long the paramedics show up. They try to resuscitate her but nothing happens. I prayed that she would come back to life, but that never happened. Carly sat on the living room floor with me, holding my hand while they worked on her. I’m also guessing she called 9-1-1. I haven’t moved from this spot since I found her.

Carly talks to some officers and I just know they are going to take BeeBee and I, separate us, and make us live with some foster parent who doesn’t give a shit about us either. Isn’t that how this works?

Hours later, after they have taken my mom away and Ms. Summers came over and said she’d take care of BeeBee tonight, this older woman shows up. I assume she is from child protective services but I don’t know how she could afford such expensive clothing.

I take in her grey pencil skirt and matching jacket. There is a white blouse underneath the jacket and her grey hair is pulled up into a bun. She wears a simple gold necklace. I’d say she was in her sixties but she might be older since it looks like she takes care of her skin.

Then I notice her eyes and this freaks me out even more because they are my eyes. The same deep green with streaks of blue. WTF? “Are you from child protective services?” I rush out, finally getting to my feet. “Look, I turn eighteen in five months. I can get emancipated and get a job. I can support my little sister, I swear I can. Please, please, please don’t separate us. And please don’t make me go into foster care. I can make BeeBee’s life better than that.”

She looks shocked for a few seconds before her face cools over into a look of boredom. That right there, oh, and the eyes, should have tipped me off. I wasn’t prepared for what she was going to say.

“Paisley, I believe you have me mistaken for someone else.” She pauses and pulls her arm out from her body to point at the couch. The one Mom died on.

I shake my head. “She died there,” I say, barely above a whisper.

Her face pales and she looks away. I must still be in shock, because I swear there was a look of pain that crossed her face. “The kitchen then?” she asks, swaying her arm towards the kitchen this time. I nod and lead the way.

She waits until I’m seated before sitting down in one of the old plastic chairs. I think how wrong she looks. With her expensive clothes and elegant manners. “Paisley, I’m your maternal grandmother. Virginia was my daughter.” She states it so simply. I even blink a few times thinking she most have been speaking in tongues.

“Who is Virginia?” I ask, stumped. My mothers name was Sally.

It’s her turn to look puzzled. She finally shakes her head before going on. “Virginia was your mother. I forgot she changed her name when she walked out of the family.” Saying this makes her look even sadder. That’s when I know this woman is telling the truth. “Even though I haven’t spoken to her in sixteen years, she still had me listed as her next of kin. She also left me custody of you and Beatrice.”

“BeeBee,” I automatically correct.

“Pardon?” she says, finally resting her hands on her purse.

“Everyone calls my little sister BeeBee,” I tell her noticing the purse for the first time. While it is plain, I can tell it’s real leather, and the snaps are encrusted with diamonds. Whoa.

“I see. My older sister’s name is Beatrice. We call her BeeBee, too.” She smiles fondly, and I find I like it when she smiles. It’s better than that cold, bored face she has been wearing. “Anyway, I’ve come to collect you and BeeBee. My home is about five hours from here. I would like to get going so we can have you settled in at a decent time.”

I look at her and I squint my eyes. So she thinks she is going to come into my house and tell me how it is? I don’t think so. “Look lady, I’m perfectly fine staying here and taking care of BeeBee. I’ve been raising her since the day she was born. I will continue to raise her until she is grown.”

Then my “grandmother” squints back at me. “Look young lady, while I know you are in fact capable of taking care of BeeBee, you are still seventeen years old. You are still in high school. And you will continue to stay in high school. No grandchild of mine is going to drop out and get a job, just to raise her little sister when I’m here and can help you.”

I huff before getting up from the table. If I stay sitting there, I’ll punch her in her old face. “Look lady, I don’t want your help. I certainly didn’t want your help when I was starving to death because your daughter couldn’t remember to feed me. I also didn’t need it when the kids made fun of me at school because my clothes didn’t fit and had holes in them. Because your daughter didn’t care.” Her face gets more and more pale while I rant but I keep going. “I definitely didn’t need it when she started using heroin while she was pregnant with my little sister. Or when she stuck me with raising the same little sister.”

“Enough!” she shouts, making me jump. “I have spent the last sixteen years looking for you. Your mother and I had a falling out. I knew she wouldn’t be able to take care of you. But she changed her name and moved five hours away. I’ve been helpless and sick with worry over you since then.” Her breathing is labored and the color has returned to her cheeks. Only now her face is way redder than it should be. I hope I didn’t cause her to have a heart attack.

“Bullshit! She told me you wanted nothing to do with us. You think we are scum, not even worth the gum on the bottom of your shoe,” I scream, slamming my hands down on the table. She flinches but I don’t feel sorry. All she is telling me are lies.

She stands up from her chair and walks from the room. She returns a moment later with two police officers. “Ms. Vaughn, if you don’t go with your grandmother, you will be considered a runaway, and you will go to jail.”

So now I’m standing there with my mouth hanging to the floor and my eyes bugging out. I’m really starting to think I’m related to this woman. This is totally something I would pull.

My grandmother moves right in front of me. “Paisley, you will move with me and BeeBee. I have more than enough room for you at my house. Besides, I was going to offer you the guesthouse to live in. I figured you might like your own space, where you can learn to be a teenager, instead of your little sister’s mom. BeeBee will have the best care and a nanny to help take care of her when you or I cannot do it.”

I roll my eyes and head towards my room. I guess I better pack. I didn’t realize she followed me until she speaks while I’m packing a bag. “You need only bring the items that have sentimental value. I will provide you with clothes and uniforms for school. I will also provide you with a car to get to and from school.”

I can only blink and stare at the floor. I will not cry. I will not cry. Instead I take a deep breath and turn towards her. “I want a brand new 2013 black Camaro.”

She doesn’t even blink. “Done.”

 

***

 

 

“Who is that woman?” Carly asks under her breath so that the “woman” can’t hear her.

“My mom’s mom. She is taking us to live with her.” I pull her to a hug. I can tell grandma dearest is ready to get out of the ghetto. “I have to leave with her or she can take BeeBee away and have me arrested as a runaway. I have no choice. But I will call you or text you every day.” I pull her into another hug that I don’t want to let go of ever.

“I’m going to miss you. But I have Mark. I’ll be okay. I think it would be worse if it were me leaving. I have people and family who care about me. You don’t, not around here, anyway.” Then she whispers in my ear. “Give her hell, kid.” She kisses me on the cheek and I’m passed over to Derek. He gives me a bear hug and swears he is going to miss my lips. I slap him on the back of his head. Mr. Peters pats my shoulder and goes back to whatever it was he was doing. I just shake my head.

Ms. Summers is worse. She cries over BeeBee and me. This almost makes me cry, and I have to chant in my head the whole time I’m there. BeeBee doesn’t understand what’s going on, but apparently she likes Grandma. She babbles to her the entire drive to Grandmas house.

This woman has a driver. A freaking driver! This is insane. If I really get a Camaro out of this, I might start to believe she wasn’t lying. Hell, I know she wasn’t lying. My mom was more likely to lie than this woman.

I just hope believing her doesn’t blow up in my face.

 

 



 

Chapter 3

 

 

“WHO ARE ALL these people?” I whisper-yell to Grandma.

I fell asleep during the five-hour drive to her house. I didn’t realize we would have a welcoming committee. Nor did I realize I would be related to all of them. It’s hard to be taken from a place where only two people actually cared about me, to having this many family members. I think I might hurl.

“Your relations. Come. I’ll introduce you to everyone.” And then she is walking in front of me. We are standing in a large hallway, the people standing at the end of it. Doors are positioned throughout the walls and I can only imagine what they open up to. The floors are dark hardwood and they are polished to an amazing shine. The walls are a lovely shade of deep red. Pictures hang on the walls and as I start to pass them I realize they are all of the people in front of me.

BeeBee is fast asleep on Grandma’s shoulder. I was a bit ticked off that she wouldn’t come to me. She wanted her “Grammy”. I follow them down the hallway, my breathing getting more labored as I walk. But something stops me. There is a picture of me? No, that’s not right, this picture is old. Then it hits me. I look at the back of the woman in front of me and shake my head. If I was worried about being related to her before, I’m not now.

“Paisley? Come here, dear,” my grandmother says, pointing her head toward all the people standing in her home.

As I approach an older man sucks in his breath. He’s really tall with brown hair, salt and peppered at his temples. He looks to be about the age of grandma over there. He looks at me, then looks at her. His eyes are an intense brown. “She…” he seems to be speechless but I don’t blame him. All these people are wearing expensive clothes and their hair nicely put together. And here I am in all my rags and crazy hair.

“Yes, Henry,” she says. Her deep green eyes meet mine and I give her a puzzled look. She shakes her auburn and grey head before turning back towards the group. “Everyone, I would like you to meet Paisley Vaughn. She is Virginia’s oldest and this little angel is her youngest, Beatrice. Affectingly called BeeBee.”

I nod my head at everyone, wondering what the hell all these shocked faces are so shocked about. “Paisley, this is my husband and your grandfather, Henry.” She inclines her head to the speechless older man.

He steps forward and to the surprise of everyone, hugs me. “I apologize for my behavior, it’s just that you look like your grandmother when she was your age,” he says close to my ear. I don’t know what comes over me, because I don’t like to touch people I don’t know, but I wrap my arms around his waist and just let him hug me. It feels nice, and I’m pretty sure this is what it’s supposed to feel like when your grandfather hugs you. He chuckles before letting me go.

Next up is a guy but he’s younger than Papaw. “This is your uncle Stanley. My oldest.” She smiles fondly at him. Stanley holds his hand out for me to shake. So I shake it and study him. He’s taller than Papaw and his hair is all brown, no grey. They also look exactly alike in the face. They even have the same intense, brown eyes.

“This is Rebecca, Stanley’s wife.” A tall, pretty blonde lady smiles down at me. She has very kind blue eyes. When I stop in front of her she hugs me, and I feel true affection in her arms. These people are generally happy to meet me. Weird.

“This is Brody, your oldest cousin, son to Stanley and Rebecca. He’s a few months older than you.” Now I’m standing in front of a young man. As tall as his dad, but with blonde hair like his mother’s. He also has her blue eyes, though his features are that of his father’s.

“Nice to finally meet you,” he states, taking my hand placing a kiss on it. Oh, so we have a flirt. When his blue eyes meet mine again, I wink. He lets my hand go and chuckles. “I think we’ll get along fine.”

“Stanley and Rebecca have two more, but as they are ten year old twins, they are asleep at the moment,” Grandma states before moving on to the next man. “This is Nathan, husband to Aria, my middle child.” A brunette man with green eyes makes up Nathan. He smiles fondly down at me and I return the smile.

Before grandma can introduce Aria, she pulls me into her arms. “I can’t express how happy I am right now,” she states, her voice cracking. She pulls away enough to place her hands on my shoulder to look at me. Her hair is long, curly and auburn. Just like mine, though she has the lighter green to her eyes like mom.

I nearly faint. I feel my legs get weak and I nearly buckle over by Aunt Aria has a tight hold on me. “I’m her twin.” Tears fill her eyes and it’s all I can do not to start bawling.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” I tell her softly, my eyes brimming with tears. How did my selfish, immoral mother come from these people?

“Right,” my grandma says before she gently takes me from Aria. I hear the same tears in her voice. Damn, why are we all so emotional? “This is Kellan, Nathan and Aria’s oldest.” I’m now standing in front of a gorgeous young man. More striking than Brody. His light green eyes meet mine and he shakes the hair out of them before reaching for my hand. He lightly shakes it, before letting it go. “He’s also a few months older than you.”

I look away from Kellan and back to Grandma. “They were all pregnant at the same time?” I question, feeling like I’m missing something. All she does is nod.

Since we have reached the end of the line, I feel insecure and out of place. Then grandma takes care of that. “Brody, Kellan, will you take your cousin out to the guest house? I promised her she could stay there.” They both turn their heads to look at each other, before nodding to Grandma.

Brody is by my side before I can even blink and links my arm around his elbow. “This way.” And then we are moving.

I’m taken through a huge kitchen with a center island featuring a sink. The counter tops are black granite. All the appliances are also black, even the fridge. There is also a dinning room table big enough for twenty people. Brody pulls me through a sliding glass door before we are outside. The air is nice tonight but I don’t get a chance to enjoy it.

We pass by a huge square pool, lounge chairs placed around it. We walk around the pool before we are in front of a smaller version of the house AKA mansion. The outside is painted a bright white that you wouldn’t be able to miss in the dark. The roof is black shingles and the front has the same pillars as the main house, but this one is only one story instead of two.

Kellan opens the door and I almost faint when we step inside. And not because of the furniture, which is very nice. One off white section couch rests against the north wall. There’s a beautiful hand carved coffee table with a bright white vase in the middle. A TV is placed where everyone on the couch can see it. The walls are the same off white as the couch.

No, I almost faint because of the guy standing in MY house. I’m not all that short, 5’6 but this guy has to be 6’5. I’m literally craning my neck up to see his beautiful face. There’s a quiet intensity about him. He holds himself like he has all this power under his skin that could explode at any minute. He is wearing a dark t-shirt and low-rise jeans. Though I’m pretty sure his are expensive. That face, though. Jesus. Beautiful dark brows highlight ice blue eyes that are currently staring holes into me. His nose is perfect, not too long, not too short. The end rounded a bit. His lips are wide and lush, perfect for kissing. A strong jaw offsets the rest of him, because he can’t be too pretty. His hair is black and spiked up messy in the front. “Who is she?” he sneers out.

Brody just laughs. “Your nightmare,” he says.

I look up at Brody to see pure joy across his face. Kellan even looks happy. “What the hell?” I say ripping my arm out from Brody’s.

Kellan looks over at me. “This is Channing Southerland. He lives a few houses down.” But that’s all I get.

Brody just laughs again and I find myself wanting to smack him. “So? Why is he in my house?” I walk past them all. It is seriously two o’clock in the morning; I’m ready for a bed. When I find the door that opens into a bedroom, I turn back around to the boys. “In fact, why don’t you all get out? I would like to sleep.”

They ignore me. “Miranda gave her the guest house? You’ve been begging for it since you were eleven,” Channing says in a quiet voice. It’s all smoke and fire.

“I know. I’m not even mad though. This is the best thing that has ever happened,” Brody says jumping up and down.

“Channing, you should have seen Grandfather’s face. I thought he was going faint,” Kellan says walking over to sit down on the couch.

I’m tired of standing, so I ignore them and walk into my bedroom. The floors are plush white carpet. The bed looks to be a queen size with a leather headboard and footboard. There is a chest of drawers against one wall and a longer one against the other wall. There’s a flat screen TV sitting on top of it. There are two doors, so I go and open them both. One is a huge walk-in closet and the other opens to a huge bathroom. I’m talking a huge porcelain claw foot tub, and a big shower stall. There’s his and her sinks, set in grey marble. Which matches the floor. Jesus.

“You’re telling me, that girl is the long lost heiress? The one every one has been looking for since before any of us could talk?” That’s Channing’s smoky voice coming in through my partially open bedroom door.

“Yes. I wouldn’t believe it either, but she looks just like Grandmother when she was that age,” Kellan tells him.

“Fuck,” Channing lets out, causing me to raise my eyebrows. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“Apparently, Aunt Virginia overdosed yesterday afternoon. I was there when Grandfather got the call. His entire face bleached white and he was gone before I could ask.” He pauses to sit down on the couch with Kellan. “Then while we were at the party, Mom calls and tells us to come here. And she was like ‘Get here quick Brody! I mean it’ so I knew she was serious.”

“Dad met me in the driveway and told me everything. That is the Paisley Vaughn everyone has been looking for.” Kellan takes over from Brody. “That’s your future bride.”

 

 



 

Chapter 4

 

 

I DIDN’T GET to question the boys about that last statement. Grandma popped into the guesthouse to make the boys leave and to make sure I had everything I needed. I proceeded to ask where BeeBee was, but she told me that my little sister was nice and comfy in the nursery.

I was sorry she couldn’t stay with me in the guesthouse, but I guess I need to learn how to not be her mom. She has people to take care of her now. I need to learn to be her big sister. She’ll need me to tell her which boys are cool to date or what kind of makeup to use.

I keep thinking if I tell myself enough times, I’ll start to remember I don’t need to raise her anymore. It’s not working out so great.

There’s a knock on the door, which jumps me out of my thoughts. I quickly turn off the TV and answer. My elegant grandmother is standing there, looking flustered and nervous. “What’s up?” I ask her simply. I realize that we don’t know each other, but I seriously doubt she has anything to be worried about. I’m not really going to make her buy me a Camaro. I just knew that I didn’t have a choice; I had to come live here.

“Good morning, dear,” she says moving her arms behind her back. She’s wearing a simple pair of jeans, though I assume they are expensive. Her shirt is flowy and looks amazing on her. She might be a grandmother, but she is sure rocking it. “Can I come in?”

I open the door wider so she can pass. “Yeah. It’s your guesthouse,” I tell her, moving into the living room. I plant my butt down on the sectional and wait for whatever she needs to tell me. I just hope it’s not that they made a mistake, that we aren’t really related.

“Well, I might own the property, but I gave it to you. This is your space and I don’t want to intrude.” She finally moves to sit down on the couch, but she’s not close to me. She nervously puts her hands in her lap, and then bites her lip.

“Grandma, just spit it out. After finding my mother dead, and having to move five hours away, the ‘wow’ factor is gone. Nothing you can say will shock me.” I ramble. Even though I say she can’t shock me, I’m cautious anyway.

“You are very direct, Paisley. I find it refreshing. Most of the people in my life aren’t very direct.” She stops talking to stare off in space for a few moments. Now I’m getting fidgety, so I sit on my hands so I won’t ring them. “First I would like to say I may not have been completely truthful with you yesterday.” My eyes only blink at her. Really? Who could have seen this coming? “While you are my grandchild, through and through, you’re also the grandchild to one of my least favorite people.”

“Huh? You don’t like Papaw?” I question. I think my eyes are going to cross. I really can’t stand it when people aren’t straightforward. It’s like rip the freaking Band-Aid off already.

She says, “Papaw?” in a barely there whisper. She shakes her head before looking me in the eyes. “I’m going to tell you a story. Please don’t ask any questions until I’m done.” She takes a deep breath before she launches into a story so twisted and confusing, I think I might blow my brains out. “When I was a girl, about your age, I fell in love with your grandfather. And he fell in love with me. But just like with any couple we had our problems. Like there was another woman in love with him. Her name is Margret. She disappeared after we married, but I knew she would come back.

“And she did, about twenty years ago. I didn’t know it was the same woman until much later. She had of course married, and her last name was different. I had never met her face to face when I fell for Henry. Now that she was back, I had no reason to think she was the same woman. We started to become friends, though she never came around when Henry was at home. She also started to bring her son, Charles. I’m sorry to say that he and your mother fell in love. Virginia was always a wild card. She was spoiled and selfish. Though she became a better person for Charles. I honestly believed that she loved him. It wasn’t until after the two married that I realized this woman was in fact the same Margret.

“I didn’t know what to do. The kids seemed happy so I wasn’t too worried. Then Virginia became pregnant with you. My other two children were also pregnant, so I couldn’t solely focus on your mother. I didn’t know what was going on until it was too late. It appears that Margret wanted Charles to marry your mother to ruin her. This was to get back at your Grandfather and I. Though he was never supposed to get Virginia with child. But he was thankful for you. It used to annoy your mother because he paid more attention to you than her, and you weren’t even born yet. Margret swears up and down that your mother drove him to drink. I don’t know if that is true, but he was intoxicated the night he died. It was a horrible car accident. There was nothing they could do. You were born several days later.” She sighs and gets up off the couch. “You were born three weeks early. Virginia actually went into labor while hearing the reading of Charles’s will. He left everything to you. She was to get nothing and that is why she took off. She was beyond mad about not getting any money. I had already cut her off by this point. She had been caught doing cocaine while she was pregnant with you.” A tear starts slipping down her face and I have a reaction. For as long as I can remember I have had sympathy emotions. Someone starts crying, I start to have the urge. It’s the same with throwing up, or someone getting mad.

“She took off in the middle of the night and we never heard from her again. Though Margret and I have been searching for you since you both disappeared. I was closer, and this is the part I lied about. I knew where you were,” I start to glare at her but she rushes out, “But I had only known a week. I think that’s why your mother overdosed. She knew it would hurt me to never speak to her again. I have no proof, but I knew my daughter. She was vindictive and manipulative.”

“Okay so you’re saying you were there for a week and never confronted us?” I ask even though I know she’s not done. I just can’t stand to keep quiet anymore.

“I had to make sure you were the right Paisley. Knowing Virginia the way that I do, she would have been rid of you and placed someone in your place. I had my PI break into the trailer to get your toothbrush. The results came back the day before she died. You are the right Paisley.” She stops pacing for a second to look over at me. “I was literally on my way to confront Virginia when I got the call she had died. Then I could only think about getting you here, to get you out of the path of Margret.”

My mom always told me my dad was an asshole. I just thought he was some drug addict who never gave a shit. Just like she didn’t give a shit. At least she was around. She wasn’t what a mother was supposed to be, but I’m alive because of her. I might not have felt the grief a normal daughter would have felt, but she was truly someone I lived with for seventeen years. I didn’t know her. She didn’t talk to me, unless she wanted to rant about my asshole father and her stuck-up snobbish family. But all of that was lies.

“But she’s my grandmother, too?” I meant it as a statement but it comes out as a question.

She blinks a few times before she chuckles. “Yes she is. With what she put everyone through, I didn’t want her to have custody of you. BeeBee would have come to me, and I didn’t want to separate you.”

I start replaying the conversation the boys had last night, something clicking in my head. “So I’m truly an heiress?” I blurt out. That right there is hard to wrap my head around. Someone left me money? My father left me money?

She’s blindsided for all of a second before she sits right down next to me. She takes my hands in hers. “Yes. Margret’s husband was insanely rich. The money was split between Margret and her two boys. You get his share.” When she whispers a number in my ear, I want to faint.

“Seriously?” I stumble out. That cannot be right. I could never spend that much money in my entire life, even if I blow it on stupid crap.

“Yes, seriously,” she huffs out. “Not to mention your trust fund from us.”

“Why do I feel like Cinderella? Shouldn’t there be a prince or something? Mean step-sisters?” My mind is officially blown.

“Well there is a prince,” she tells me softly, and my eyes jump to hers. “He’s not actually a prince, and I don’t think he’s all that charming. You met him last night, Channing Southerland.”

“So that’s what Kellan meant about me being his bride,” I blurt out, really freaked. I didn’t think they could arrange marriages anymore.

Then my grandma does something that doesn’t fit her personality, she rolls her eyes. “You do not have to marry him, Paisley. Believe it or not, Channing is against the whole thing.”

“Okay, please explain this to me in simple terms.”

She bursts out a laugh before shaking her head at me, “Channing is Margret’s godson. Though his own grandparents are passed away, he treats Margret as if she is his grandmother. She’s been saying forever she would have you two married.” A look of nostalgia crosses her face, and I wait for more. “Though I think we did better with Channing than we ever did with your parents. I’m very fond of him, he even calls me Aunt.” She brushes my hair out of my face and looks into my eyes. “Channing isn’t going to play Margret’s game. She’ll try to get you to play it as well. Though you are too much like me, you’ll fight back.”

“Why would she want us to get married?” I ask, feeling as if my eyebrows are going to shoot off my head.

She purses her lips, and I know she doesn’t want to tell me. Then she decides better, “She wants you two to be married because she feels as if she destroyed our children. She did in fact destroy them, but Charles didn’t have to play the game. And Virginia didn’t have to be so greedy. The Southerland’s are a very powerful name. Though us Vaughn’s have just as much power, and money.” She winks at me before getting up off the couch.

“If he’s a Southerland, then isn’t he related to me?” I gasp out. That would be just sick!

“No, dear. Channing was adopted by his stepfather. His step-father is your uncle.” She reaches the door, and turns back to look at me, “Well, come on, dear. You have a lot of shopping to get done today.”

 

 



 

Chapter 5

 

 

THE THING ABOUT me is, I don’t process things like I should. When my mom got pregnant it literally didn’t register that there was going to be a baby around until BeeBee was born. Which was a really bad thing considering I was the only one capable of taking care of her. So if you’re wondering why I haven’t freaked about all this stuff yet, don’t worry. It’s coming. Most likely tonight when I’m trying to go to sleep.

Other than what Grandma told me this morning, I’ve had a really good day. Apparently I have to attend this rich kid’s school with a bunch of other rich kids. YAY! I can’t express my utter joy about this.

Not.

Anyway, you have to wear a uniform to this new school so I spent a good hour going through a catalog ordering clothes for school. Then Grandma took me to these boutiques, where I got to spend a lot of money for “regular” clothes. I’m saying I get my own expensive jeans and shirts. Plus several dresses, skirts, shorts, shoes, and jewelry. If Carly could only see me now.

It truly amazes me what money can do. I wouldn’t say it bought me happiness, considering I’m not all that happy. But then again I haven’t honestly been happy at all in my life. Oh wait, I was overjoyed and happy the day BeeBee was born. Also on the days she slept through the night the first time, learned to walk, learned to feed herself, got potty trained, and my favorite, learned to talk. All those things made me very happy and proud. But not enough to last a lifetime.

Then something did happen to make me VERY happy. Papaw took me to this car dealership. They had a brand spanking new 2014 black Camaro waiting for me to test drive. Luckily Carly let me use her car to get my license. I don’t drive much, but I had always planned to get a car.

The best part about it was I paid for it. ME! I might not have earned the money handed to me, but it is legally mine. As I found out this morning when Grandma took me to the bank. I didn’t even know banks were open on Saturdays. The president was there to meet me. That was strange in of itself, but he did give me a credit card with no limit. The first thing I bought was a Dr. Pepper. Grandma looked at me like I was crazy, but I had to see if the card actually worked. Plus it was the best damn Dr. Pepper I’ve ever had.

My guesthouse has its own personal driveway, so I felt totally awesome pulling up in my new car. I think I shall car her Dancer. She’s freaking gorgeous and moves just a swiftly as a dancer. Yeah, I think that name fits her perfectly.

I had every intention of going into the house to see BeeBee, but I’m surprised to find I have a visitor. One I’m not all that happy to see.

Channing Southerland is standing in my living room looking like he just got home from a modeling shoot. Black hair styled messily and his perfect face set in stone. No emotion whatsoever appears on his face. That I don’t like. I would appreciate knowing what is on his mind.

He seems to be studying me, so I return the favor. His shirt is tight and clings to every single muscle on his upper body. His not built like a linebacker or anything but you can tell he works out. His low-rise jeans hang off his hips in a way that make you think of taking them off. Wait, what? Hell no, Paisley, do not even go there.

After, and I kid you not, five minutes without either of us speaking, I finally break the silence, “Can I help you?” I huff out, sounding impatient.

This only makes him smirk, “Yes, you can help me,” he states easily in his smoky voice. And I refer to smoke because his voice literally moves over your body like smoke. But not cigarette smoke, that’s nasty. More like really clean smoke.

When I realize he isn’t going to elaborate, I cross my arms under my breasts and start tapping my foot. He loses the smirk then. He eyes become trapped at my chest and I feel a blush cover my cheeks. This just got awkward. I have nice boobs but they aren’t that nice.

So in true Paisley fashion, I snap my fingers and say, “Eyes up here, asshole,” pointing my index finger at my eyes.

Anger moves through his eyes, which really freaks me out. I’ve never seen anyone who shows their emotions in just their eyes. His face didn’t even move. I’m angry right now, so I know my eyes are squinted and my lips are in a sneer.

He stalks over to me, his face still expressionless, “Listen up, and listen good. I’m only going to say this once. I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but you need to leave.” And he ends that terrifying speech.

I blink once, then twice and I go with instinct. He’s standing a few inches from me, so I shove him. My personal bubble is my personal bubble, and if I don’t want you in there, you’re getting out. Now I stalk towards him, though no fear enters his eyes, “Look buddy, I may not want all this money, but don’t you ever come in here and tell me what to do. If it were taken from me right now, I wouldn’t care. The only thing I care about is in that house. My little sister is the only family I know and these people have custody of her. I want to be in her life, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Your sister?” he whispers looking at me confused.

I roll my eyes. Didn’t think of that did you, idiot? “Yes my little sister. She’s two. My mom was a moron and I raised her. Now the witch is dead, so I had to come here or lose my sister. Is that plain enough English for you?”

My breathing is labored and I can tell my skin is flushed, but I don’t really care. I want him out of my house. He just hit the only button I have. I take two steps back and level him with a glare. “Now, since you don’t seem to have any manners, I’ll show you how it’s done.” I walk over to the door and open it. I make a big show about pointing out of it, “Thank you Mr. Southerland for this amazing visit. Now I need to retire for the night. Good evening.”

Channing doesn’t say anything but proceeds to walk out my front door. His eyes never leave mine, and I’m starting to realize its stupid to make eye contact with him. He’s so freaking tall, I have to strain my neck to look at him. But I don’t let his eyes go until I’ve slammed the door in his face. Then I slump against said door and close my eyes. I need my bed.

I lock the front door before I rush around turning the lights off. I do realize its only seven o’clock on a Saturday night, but if you haven’t noticed, I’m not a normal teenager. I quickly make my way to my bedroom and throw myself on the bed. And then I cry.

I told you it would be tonight when all the crap that has happened to me over the past two days hits me. What Channing said wasn’t all that bad, but I was already starting to feel the tension in my body. I needed to release it. I needed it gone. Maybe I should have asked him what the hell he even meant by all that. But when his statement started to sound like a threat in my head, he had to go. No one will take me away from my sister. The only reason I’m not fighting to take care of her myself is because I’m not her mother. I might feel like her mother, but I need to overcome that. I don’t want to have to be her mother. I’m not saying she was a burden, but BeeBee and my mom together was an overwhelming burden. So I stopped taking care of my mom and started taking care of BeeBee.

Maybe that makes me a bad daughter, but what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t care for a grown woman and a baby and go to school. It was impossible, so I became a single mom to my little sister. Now I don’t even have that burden.

And for the first time in my life, I can fucking breathe.

You don’t know what that means to me. I don’t have to worry about bills being paid, or if Mom is going to spend the bill money on drugs. Though Grandma and Papaw did a horrible job with my mother, I won’t let them do the same to BeeBee. I’ll still be here to guide her in life.

I’m good into my sobs, when I hear a scratching on the door. What in the world? I quickly get up and race to the door. When I finally have it open I let out a scream. In front of me sits a huge German Shepard. It regards me with its black eyes and I cringe. It lets out a bark and I take a step back. It does it again and again until I’m back in the house. Then it comes in the door and nudges it closed. What the hell? Then it calmly walks past me into my bedroom.

I shake my head thinking that was my imagination. That big, scary dog did not just walk in here. I rub the rest of my tears out of my eyes and race back to my room. Nope, there it is, lying on my bed. I slowly walk over to it, “What are you doing here?” I say to it. Great. Now I’m talking to dogs.

It just stares at me. When I get within touching distance it reaches its muzzle out to me and licks my hand. “Oh, so you’re friendly?” I timidly reach my hand out to pet it. It lays its head down, so I reach out and pull on the collar. Not to move it but to see whom it belongs too.

 

Maggie

 

If found return to Mr. & Mrs. Vaughn

 

Or call 9032458933

 

 

“Well apparently you’re not lost then, Maggie,” I tell her. I can’t believe they have this huge dog on the property and didn’t tell me about it. I’m not scared of dogs, but the big ones make me uneasy. Though this one seems gentle enough. She hasn’t tried to eat me. “I guess you can stay with me. To tell you the truth, I was really scared last night. I even woke up in the middle of the night and forgot where I was.”

Maggie lets out a bark, and I laugh. “Yeah I’m a weenie,” I say to her, scratching behind her ear.

After awhile, I lay down for bed. I changed into some PJs. I didn’t even think of making Maggie leave. For some strange reason she makes me feel safe, and not so lonely. She even moves from the foot of the bed to behind me, keeping me warm.

I haven’t been asleep long when someone knocks on the door, and Maggie barks, waking me up. I open my eyes to see her standing at my bedroom door. I rub the sleep from my tired eyes and head to the front door. Grandma is standing there with a flashlight. She looks relieved to see me.

“I’m sorry to have woken you, dear. I was just looking for Maggie.” She smiles fondly down at the dog. I put my hand on Maggie’s head, not wanting her to leave. Grandma notices this. “Don’t worry, I won’t take her from you. Besides, if Maggie wants to be here, then I can’t make her leave.” She winks at me.

“You could have told me there was a huge dog running around,” I tell her grumpily.

She only laughs. “Maggie isn’t going to harm anyone unless they mean someone else harm. She is very well trained.” She reaches in to pet the dog. “She’s a very good mother, and it seems she has taken you as one of her pups.”

“Huh?” I say stupidly.

“No worries, Paisley. She just feels protective of you. I just wonder how she got out of her pen.” She taps her chin and looks across the backyard. I look that way, too, but don’t see anything except grass and trees where the property turns to forest. “I’ll let you get back to sleep, dear.” She hugs me lightly before heading towards the house.

I stand there for several minutes wondering what the hell she was looking at.

 

 



 

Chapter 6

 

 

MAGGIE WAKES ME up about three a.m. by barking. When I don’t get out of bed, she sticks her big, wet nose in my face, three times. Finally I left my head and blink at her. “What?” I snap. I seriously don’t like to be woken up.

She just barks once more before scratching at the bedroom door. I sigh and throw the covers off and climb my tired body out of bed. I did spend all day shopping.

I open the door and Maggie races out and heads for the front door. I swiftly follow her and find her scratching at this door. I roll my eyes and open it, “If you made me get out of bed because you have to piss, I’m gonna be a little ticked, missy.” I tell the dog before I realize there are three dudes standing on my front porch. “What the hell?” I snap, eyeing them.

Brody, Kellan, and my worst nightmare are standing there, drunk off their asses. “You have got to be kidding me!” I snarl, about to slam the door in their faces.

Kellan stops the door before it slams shut, “Paisley, I’m really sorry about this, but we always crash here when we party. Our parents would kill us if they found out.”

I only roll my eyes before I try to shut the door again. Kellan is way stronger than he looks. “Too damn bad. I live here now, and I don’t want your drunk butts in here!” Did I mention I’m also very cranky in the mornings?

Before I know it Channing moves Kellan out of the way and I’m up close and personal with his smoky blue eyes, “Please? We don’t have anywhere else to go.” His voice isn’t slurred but his eyes are glazed over, indicated his drunkenness. He shuts his eyes for a second, almost as if talking to me pains him. “I would never ask anything of you, but this is actually important.”

Before my brain can process this, I’m moving behind the door and letting them in. I don’t know if it was the pleading in his voice, or the loneliness in his eyes. It kind of freaks me out, the way his eyes express his feelings so well. Even when he’s drunk, his face remains expressionless.

“Thank God,” Brody slurs out before he moves into my house and falls face down on the couch. He’s snoring before his face hits the fluffy cushion.

“Thank you, Paisley,” Kellan tells me before, surprising me, he wraps his arms around me. The hug is tight and short but it leaves me feeling weird. Drunk people have always made me feel weird. He heads over to the linen closest next to my bedroom door and pulls out several pillows and blankets. He hands some of them to Channing before he takes off to my other bedroom. Channing tosses a blanket on Brody before lying down on the other side of the couch.

I roll my eyes and head back to my own room. Maggie looks up when I enter, and I point my finger at her, “Don’t not wake me up until noon tomorrow, or I’ll have a new German Shepard sized doll.”

 

***

 

 

It’s well before noon when I wake up the next morning. Only this time I wake up myself. I look at the clock on the night stand which says its nine a.m. I can deal with that. Hoping the boys are gone, but knowing they aren’t, I put on some clothes. I want to spend the day with BeeBee, but I better make some breakfast for the three stooges.

I pull on some skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. I look down to realize my red bra is visible through the shirt, but I don’t really care. At least I’m not naked.

I take a deep breath before opening my bedroom door. Both of them are still sleeping and Brody is snoring. They both look so vulnerable, something I didn’t think any of them could be. But it’s mostly Channing. His face is turned towards me, but his face is soft, the hard mask he wears nowhere in sight.

I realize he must have taken his shirt off before he fell asleep, because I can see his lean body and his golden skin. Muscles peek out on his stomach from under the covers, though it’s not a six-pack or anything. You can tell he works out though. And I’m not going to lie here, he is freaking sexy. My eyes keep moving down and I about have a heart attack.

He’s got morning wood and lets just say even from over here, I can tell he’s big. A blush burns over my face before I move my eyes back up his face and let out a shocked gasp. He’s looking at me, fully awake. There’s a smirk on his full lips and his eyes shine with laughter.

Ugh, really? How do I get caught checking him out?

I ignore him and let Maggie out the front door. I’m sure the poor dog has to piss. I head back to the kitchen, not even looking in Channing’s direction. The kitchen is modern, with black granite counter tops and white tiled floors. All the appliances are stainless steel. I open the fridge and pull out some eggs and milk. Next I move over to the coffee pot and start brewing some coffee. I don’t really like the stuff but I hear it’s good for hangovers.

I head back over to the fridge and pull out the bacon. When I close the door I almost scream. “Can you, like, not sneak up on me? Maybe?” I whisper at Channing.

“I wasn’t quiet walking in here,” he states, his face in that mask. How I wish I could smack it right off his face. Why does this jackass make me violent? At least he put his shirt back on.

“Whatever,” I mutter.

I ignore him for the most part. I can feel when he crosses behind me and makes a cup of coffee. Then he sits down at the bar. I can feel his eyes staring holes in me as I make bacon, pancakes and scrambled eggs.

About half way through, Kellan and Brody wake up. “Oh my god, that smells so fucking good,” Brody mumbles when he enters the kitchen. He didn’t put his shirt back on. He’s a little more built than Channing but he doesn’t do anything for me. Probably because he’s my first cousin. Good Lord I’m weird.

“Is this for us?” Kellan asks scratching the side of his head. He’s got all this clothes on and a black eye.

“What happened to your face?” I ask, walking over to turn his face so I could see his eye better.

He chuckles looking over at Brody. “I hit on Brody’s girlfriend. He gets violent when he’s drunk.”

“Well it’s too late for ice. Sit down. I’ll make you a plate,” I tell him, pointing at the bar where Channing is eyeing me funny.

“Thanks, cuz,” Kellan states, chuckling.

I roll my eyes and start piling eggs, pancakes, and bacon on three plates. I pull out forks and place them on the plates. Then I drop a plate in front of each boy. Now they are all looking at me funny. “What?” I snap.

Brody and Kellan share looks and Channing just stares at me. Then Brody clears his throat, calling my attention to him. “I don’t think any of us have ever had someone make us breakfast. Other than a personal cook,” he adds at the end.

I raise my eyebrows, “Really? Well where I’m from, if you didn’t make it yourself, then you weren’t eating.”

Now they just look confused. “What do you mean where you come from? Your Mom had a entire trust fund, which I think goes to BeeBee, since you got a huge one from your dad.”

Ah, they think I was raised around money. Grandma explained this one to me yesterday while we were shopping. I move to the counter right in front of them and place my hands to support me. “I’m going to assume none of you met my mother. She was a horrible person and an even worse mother. She didn’t have access to that trust fund because she did drugs while she was pregnant with me. We lived in a trailer for as long as I can remember. I went without food, unless she thought about buying groceries. When I was old enough I found a nice neighbor, whom I became best friends with. Her family was nice enough to feed me. And when I didn’t have clothes, my friend let me borrow hers.” I pause taking in their faces. They’re all a mixture of shock, pity, and anger. The anger comes from Channing’s eyes, and I don’t bother to figure that one out. “I didn’t grow up like you three. You should remember that.”

I don’t wait for a reply; I just walk out of the house.

 

***

 

 

BeeBee has this lovely young woman named Molly as her nanny. I honestly love this lady. She sings BeeBee to sleep, she reads her stories, and she takes her outside to play. She also has a room right next door to BeeBee’s so if she needs anything in the night, Molly will hear her.

My little sister doesn’t need me anymore. That’s how I find myself outside on the back lawn, petting Maggie’s big head. I spent several hours with my sister, but when it started to become clear she didn’t need me there, I got incredibly sad. I don’t even know what to do with this emotion. I know she’s not my daughter but it still freaking hurts.

“You have the same look on your face your grandmother had when Stanley moved out of the house.” I jerk at the voice, but only because it surprised me.

“Hey Papaw,” I tell him. I figure I have the same look on my face that every mom gets when their child doesn’t need them anymore.

“Its okay to be sad about it. I do realize you had to raise that little girl. And most people wouldn’t have done it.” He places a hand lightly on my shoulder. “Your grandmother only separated you because she wanted you to be your age. You should be worried about boys and schoolwork. Not about if BeeBee is okay or needs something. She isn’t doing this to hurt you.”

I look up at him and give him a watery smile. “I know that. It’s just hard to let her go. I woke up the first night here and freaked because I couldn’t hear the baby monitor. Then I remember I didn’t have to worry about it anymore.” I pat his hand on my shoulder and look away. “I’ll be okay about it. I just need a little time.”

He chuckles, “You sure are mature for a teenager.” When I l


Date: 2015-02-28; view: 1115


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