Page 5 of Make You Stay

No matter what they think about me, or my Yankee lifestyle, I didn’t ask for this or for the first steps into my mother’s home to be after we lowered her body into the ground. Life happens. Shit happens.

Often at the same time.

Pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders, I search the cabinets for some creamer or sugar. None to be found.

Black coffee, it is.

“It’s freezing in here.”

I jump at the unexpected voice, believing for a second that my mother’s ghost has returned from the grave.

Instead, I see Natalie from next door in my hallway. She’s the oldest of the three girls and was apparently very close with Betsey. At sixteen, she’s also willowy and tall, with bright green eyes sparkling with mischief.

She’s going to be a heartbreaker one day.

“It’s beyond freezing. I don’t know how to work the woodstove.”

“I’ll get it.” She does, too. Within two minutes, the sucker is glowing orange. “There, it should warm the place up within an hour. You can close some doors to the spare rooms. It will keep the heat centralized.”

“Thank you.” Motioning to the coffeepot, I offer her a mug. “Are you allowed to drink coffee?”

Natalie laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t need the caffeine. I’m too high-strung already.” She fingers some of the photos I spread across the kitchen table the night before. “These are great. I remember Betsey showed me some of these.”

A swell of resentment floods my body. How nice for Natalie, knowing my mother’s history. Betsey never showed meanything. Swallowing back my anger with a gulp of coffee, I force a smile. “Did she? I’d love to hear the stories.”

“Don’t you know them?”

“No. Betsey wasn’t in my life for many years.”

“How come?”

“That’s a good question, Natalie.” The words slip out before I can grab them back. “I’m not entirely sure. I guess I wasn’t what she wanted.”

Natalie cocks her head, a look of confusion on her face. “You’re her daughter. You have to love your kids.”

“If only that were the truth because sadly, many parentsdon’tlove their kids. Although your parents obviously adore you girls. Besides, I know Betsey loved me, in her way.”

“She always said she did, even though she never saw you.” Natalie picks up a black-and-white photo of Betsey in a dance costume. “I remember this story. This was when a sheik invited her to perform for him. Only dancing, no sex.”

I choke at her brash comment. “She told you that?”

“She did. I’m sure she embellished, but that’s what you do with a good story, right?” Plopping down at the table, she crosses her legs under her. “I can help you go through them if you like.”

The loneliness clawing at my heart threatens to rip me apart at her kind offer. Mainly because they’re theonlykind words I’ve heard since I arrived in Asheville, with the exception of Natalie’s younger sister, Emily. Oh, people patted my arm and forced a smile for me yesterday, but none of them cared how I felt.

Why should they? I’m nothing to them. Apparently, Betsey was everything.

A memorable woman that I don’t remember.

“I would like that—” Someone pounds at the door, and I startle again. “This house sure sees a lot of traffic.”

“Probably my dad,” Natalie mutters. “I’m in the kitchen.”

My body stiffens the moment Aidan walks into the room, moving with an authoritative gait, his face stern. At least, Ithinkit’s stern. Impossible to tell with the beard covering half his face and stretching down to the middle of his chest.

That is one look I never understood.

“Natalie, get in the car. We’re going to be late.” He juts his chin in my direction. “She’ll be out of your way in a second.”

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