Page 38 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
“It's the other way around now. She’s found a lot of ways to pick on me.” I start at the beginning with Piper’s alarm going off at five am Sunday morning, hiding the towels, making the water cold.
“She made the water cold?” Frankie interrupts before I even get to the playlist Piper blasted this morning.
“You know, she, like, turned off the thing that makes it hot.” I rub my cheek, which has to look as red hot as it feels.
“You mean thewater heater?”
“You know what a water heater is?” I ask her, astounded that this is common knowledge.
“I mean, I do now.” BynowFrankie means now that she doesn’t have assistants to do everything for her like she did when she was in Dad’s good graces.
“Well, I had to google it,” I admit.
Frankie laughs, then smooths her thumb and forefinger over a dark lock of hair with a look of disappointment.
I’m not sure if the look is for me or her hair color. We have the same reddish-brown hair, but hers is long, curly, and—according to nearly every magazine article written about Frankie—her most stunning feature.
When she “escaped” Hollywood, Frankie cut her hair and dyed it dark brown—almost black—so she’d be less recognizable. It must be working because I haven’t seen her in any magazines online or in print for months.
“Why would Piper do all this stuff to you?” she asks, still pulling at her curl. “Yeah, you were a jerk to her, but that was years ago. I can’t imagine she’s petty enough to hold a grudge for this long.”
I hesitate and cut another bite of steak. “She wants me to sign over the deed so the divorce settlement can be over. I guess she thought this would motivate me.” I point to my hair.
“Forget Dad.” Frankie starts laughing again, and I can’t help laughing with her. “Piper’s the one you should be worried about fighting. I’d give up now, if I were you.”
“I’m not backing down, Frankie. If Piper wants to play dirty, I’m ready to get dirty.”
“The way you said that sounds dirty,” she teases, lifting her eyebrows.
“Stop it. She’s our stepsister.”
“Barely,” she scoffs. “We never even lived in the same house. You aren’t blood related, so if you want to get dirty…I’m just saying there’s no law preventing it.”
“I don’t want to get dirty or anything else with Piper Quinn!” I’ve repeated those words—or something close to them—more than once since Piper’s surprise arrival. “She’s determined to make me miserable enough to move out, because she doesn’t know I’m supposed to make her go.”
Frankie stops laughing. “What do you mean?”
I recount my conversation with Dad; how I told him I wasn’t signing and proposed he settle for cash. How he’d said no, forcing me to negotiate by refusing to sign the deed unless hegave me two more weeks in the house. And, finally, that he’d demanded I tell Piper she had to leave.
“I lied and told her we had to share the house until I signed.”
Frankie blinks and offers me a soft smile. “That was a good thing you did for Piper. Solid.”
“This is the thanks I got.” I point to my head again. “But…I reckon she’d be hurt if she knew Dad wanted to boot her, and I’d rather sign over the house than do his dirty work.”
Frankie nods slowly.
“Iwillget her back for my hair, though,” I add. “If I can’t kick her out, I’ll use my own powers of persuasion to convince her to leave.”
The words taste like a lie, hard and metallic.
“Archie!” Frankie squeals. “Don’t do it. You need Piper as an ally, not an enemy.”
I might have agreed with Frankie a few hours ago, when I still had great hair anddidn’ttell Piper she had to leave. Not anymore. I don’t need an ally.
But, if I’m honest…
I kind of like having an enemy.
