Page 62 of Secret Pucking Unicorn

Mother gives a mirthless laugh as she sits back on the sofa and crosses her legs. She is wearing jeans and a sweater, like I am, but she looks a million times more elegant than I ever can.

“Miranda, they don’t need you. You’re here because they felt sorry for you. Are you going to stay where you’re not wanted because you’re too afraid to be independent? Why are you so needy? I’m a strong, independent woman. Why couldn’t you take after me? Or be more like Sophie?”

I take the last sip of tea but it’s hard to swallow with the tears thickening my throat. “Yes, mother.”

I took a nap a few hours ago, but I’m still exhausted. All the sleep I missed last night plus the past couple of weeks from moving and traveling with the team is catching up with me. My eyes are getting heavy and it’s a struggle not to nod off.

“You should rest, Miranda. You will see things more clearly once you are refreshed.” Mother’s tone is kind, with a softness I wasn’t expecting, didn’t know she was capable of. It’s a softness I’ve always wanted from her. Maybe we’re finally turning a corner and on the verge of creating the bond I’ve been longing for.

I shake my head as I struggle to hold back a yawn. “I don’t want to leave you alone. I appreciate you came here to be with me, Mother. I don’t want to waste the time we have together.”

“Take a nap, and then we will have dinner with the Mackenzies.”

“Alright, maybe a nap will help. I’m fuzzy headed. It’s hard to think clearly,” I say.

Proof of my fuzzy headedness—admitting weakness to my mother. She’s like a shark in the water, sensing blood. I brace myself.

“Rest well,” is all she says.

I nod and go to my room. My phone is sitting on the comforter, and I check to see if I missed anything. I have messages from Trevor, Brick, and Declan. I save Declan’s for last. Trev is checking in and making sure I know he’s there for me. Brick was reassuring me she’s okay and isn’t upset about this morning. I think about Mother telling me I’m gullible. Were they tricking me? Could that be the case?

I don’t know Brick very well, but she’s been friendly to me. She offered to go shopping with me for a dress. But maybe it was to make sure I chose something unsuitable and looked ridiculous. That’s what the girls at school would have done. They told me the wrong jersey to wear for hockey practice, and I had to skate laps until practice ended or I vomited, whichever came first. My “teammates” laughed when I had difficulty walking up the stairs to my room for days afterward. If they thought they could trick me into thinking I was a witch, they would have done it. Then they would have probably tried to recreate the Salem Witch Trials. Maybe Brick is like them, a grown-up mean girl.

Practical jokes are one of the ways teams bond. The rugby team pulled some epic pranks on the new caps. Maybe teasing me is a way to rally team spirit. Being the butt of the joke wasn’t in my job description.

Taking a deep breath, I open Declan’s messages. The time stamps start when I left the barn.

Declan: Miranda, leaving to pick up my parents. Please call me.

Declan: We need to talk. Call me, please.

Declan: My parents are here, on the way to DD.

Declan: We’re here, are you upstairs?

The next message is from five minutes ago.

Declan: Miranda, I love you, please talk to me. Can we meet?

Yeah, now he’s saying he loves me. But does he mean it? I’ve been here a week, and he’s in love and ready to marry me? Why would he want me? Nobody else has. It has to be all part of the prank.

Me: I’m tired. Taking a nap.

Declan: OK. I can get a room, we can nap together. I want to hold you.

Tears rush to my eyes and clog my throat again. I want him to hold me. I need him.

Why are you so needy? I hear it as clearly as if Mother was here in the room with me.

I can be strong and independent. I don’t need Declan. I don’t need anybody. I’m fine alone.

Me: No. I need space.

Declan: From me? I don’t understand. Please, Daisy, talk to me.

Now he wants to talk to me? How about all those times we talked and he never mentioned he was a unicorn shifter and did I know I was a witch? We always had time to look at real estate ads for farms and auction catalogs for horses because they were things that mattered to him. But somehow, we never found time to talk about things that truly matter like I have magical powers and he can turn into a freaking unicorn? Call me crazy but I think those are things we could have managed to work into conversation sometime over the years.

My phone rings. It’s Declan. We had snapped a picture together before the Colorado game and I use it as his contact picture. I decline the call.

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