Page 96 of Fighting

Strangely, for as different as Mateo and I are, we share one very prominent struggle. We’re both dealing with who we are expected to be and who we want to be.

I see it now, and I wish I could say something. I unlock my phone and navigate to our message thread. We haven’t said a word to each other in weeks, and a tiny piece of me wants to restart the conversation. But I don’t know how.

She’s ruined me for all other women. That’s what the listener said. It’s romance hero stuff, and he knows how much I love that line.

Could it be him? Are we both waiting for the other to make the grandest gesture?

I wakeup to a text that makes my blood run cold.

Group Chat: Bad Bitches

[Stef Carter, Lily Long, Delia Shane, Nessa Rabin, Millie]

Stef:

Hey, Nessa, can we talk? I’ll be at The Featherweight this afternoon.

After two decades, I’ve finally broken theframily. I wouldn’t blame her if she hates me. My heart sinks at the thought, but…

What’s stopping me from being loved by them in return, other than holding everyone at a distance because of one worthless man?

It’s time for me to take my own advice, no matter how difficult it is. I need to talk this out.

forty-three

Mateo

Reynoldsand I arrive at The Featherweight at the same time, and despite his smug, disrespectful attitude, I approach him calmly and cordially.

“Nice to see you.” I extend my hand.

He stands still, forcing me to inch closer, as though I’m beneath him.

That’s okay. He won’t rattle me today.

With the size of this group, they’ve sent us to what they call the library meeting room on the first floor. Liam—dressed in his Peacock Springs Fire Department T-shirt and work pants—stands with River. The rest of the Hendrix, Kelly, and Morgan parties arrive, each family sitting together at designated tables strategically placed in a U-shape.

As I take in the scene, a slight sadness creeps in. I wish Nessa was here. I want to show her I never gave up, and I hoped she wouldn’t give up on me. On us.

When a small hand touches my shoulder, a zap of hopefulness courses through me, but when I turn around and find my sister and brother-in-law, I deflate.

“She’ll be here,” Stef says, shoulders back, chin high.

I try to absorb a little of her confidence. “Glad you’re here,” I say. “We’re over there if you want to join me.” I wave to my reserved seats.

“I have to wait for her at the bar,” Stef says.

At the front of the room, a smaller table with three chairs has been set up. Gran walks over to the middle seat, taking center stage and scanning the room. “Thank you all for joining us. This is an important gathering for the Historic Families of Peacock Springs. While Jimmy tried to sway the community at the festival, this decision can only be made by the deeded property owners.”

Eyes narrowed, she focuses on her grandson, then Grant, ending on Caleb.

“What?” Caleb lurches forward in his seat, his face red.

Points for me, yes!

“I represent the Kelly Family,” she says elongating and emphasizing her position.

Walking over to the chair beside hers, Glenn says, “I represent the Morgan Family.”

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