Page 25 of Awaiting the Storm
That shuts them up for a beat.
“I’m glad to have help,” I add, reaching for my tea. “That’s it. The last thing on my list of needs right now is romance, especially with someone who already proved he couldn’t handle it.”
Shelby crosses her arms. “Good.”
Grandma gives me a long look. “If you’re sure, sweetheart.”
“I’m sure.”
She nods and reaches for the bowl of preserves, but I know that look. It’s the same one she gave me the night my mother died and I told her I was fine. Evelyn Storm has a built-in lie detector, and I know she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
But I’m serious. It hurt when Carl left, but I grieved that relationship, and that hurt was replaced with bitterness. The last thing I plan to do is fall back into his arms.
I change the subject before anyone else can poke at the fire any further. “Charli, did you ever finish that check log from the Smiths?”
She nods, wiping her fingers on a napkin. “Finished it this morning. I’ve got the deposits too. Thought I’d head into town after lunch and run everything by the bank. You need anything while I’m out?”
“Yeah, actually. Stop by the feed store and check on that shipment of seed I ordered last week. And swing by the pharmacy. Daddy’s blood pressure refill should be ready.”
“Gotit,” she says, then glances around the table. “Anyone else need anything?”
“Grab some condoms at the pharmacy,” Shelby says through a mouthful of casserole.
“Damn, Shelby,” Cabe mutters, amused. “Our grandparents are sitting right here.”
Shelby flicks a green bean at his head. “Just making sure your stupid ass is covered when we go out tonight,” she says, then turns her attention to me. “And you too, Sissy. It’s been a while since anyone knocked the cobwebs off your vajayjay.”
I freeze.
Shelby grins. “The Soused Cow. Tonight. Wildhaven Junction is playing.”
“Oh, no,” I say immediately, already shaking my head. “Nope.”
“Oh, yes,” Charli says. “You’ve been holed up here for far too long, Matty. You need to get out.”
“I get out plenty,” I protest. “I was literally out all morning, mucking stalls and turning out boarders.”
“Not what I meant,” she says. “You need to go somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse sweat and despair.”
Cabe laughs. “And it’s Friday. Your favorite band is playing. We’re not taking no for an answer.”
“I’ve got chores in the morning,” I argue.
“We’ll cover it,” Shelby says, waving me off. “All of us.”
“Wait.” I narrow my eyes. “You’re gonna do my chores?”
Grandma smiles—that same smile she used to wear when she tricked us into cleaning the attic for fun. “They’ve all volunteered. You sleep in tomorrow. Go dance a little tonight. Be young.”
“Grandma.”
She reaches over and pats my hand. “You’re a young woman, but you’ve been old since the day your mother passed. You don’t get a trophy for aging twice as fast and working twice as hard as everyone else. You deserve one night of fun.”
The room goes quiet. All their eyes are on me, and they’re looking at me like I’m a wounded horse someone forgot to put down.
I sigh dramatically. “Fine. I’ll go. One beer. One dance.”
Shelby whoops, Charli pumps her fist, and Cabe just nods and smiles like he’s proud of me. I hate it all.
