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“Try this one on, honey,” Mom says, holding up a sundress with a pattern of sunflowers.
“Sure,” I reply, taking the dress from her and pretending to inspect it.
My mind is miles away, drifting back to Bama’s lopsided grin and those ocean-blue eyes.
“Jordyn,” Mom’s voice cuts through my thoughts like a knife. “When are you finally going to fess up that you and Bama are an item?”
The hanger in my hand slips, almost dropping the dress to the floor. “Wh-what?”
I snap my head up to meet her gaze. Her eyes, sharp as ever, pin me down.
“Don’t play dumb with me, little girl,” she says, crossing her arms. “You think I haven’t noticed? You practically float around the house these days.”
I swallow hard, my pulse quickening. Damn. So much for being discreet. “How... how did you know?”
“You’re not exactly subtle,” she smirks, picking at another dress on the rack. “And Stiletto might have let it slip that you’ve been staying over at the clubhouse. You’re just lucky I was around and it wasn’t your fathers.”
“Stiletto?” I spit out, anger bubbling up inside me. She had no right. “Why would she do that?”
“Maybe she’s jealous. Maybe she just likes stirring the pot,” Mom shrugs. “Point is, I know. And I’m not mad. But your fathers . . .”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I cut her off, frustration seeping into my tone. “They won’t exactly be thrilled.”
“Correct,” she nods. “But that’s their problem. As long as you’re happy. That’s the only thing that matters.”
“Mom, I am happy. Happier than I think I deserve,” I confess, feeling a lump form in my throat.
“Jordyn, you deserve the moon and back,” she says, her voice softening. “Just remember, secrets don’t stay buried forever. You need to tell them before somebody else does.”
“Yeah, I will soon,” I murmur as I sift through more dresses.
I yank a crimson dress off the rack, trying to shake off the storm brewing inside me.
I can’t believe Stiletto. She had no right, and yet she still said something. Why? What’s the point?
The silk feels smooth against my fingers, but it does nothing to calm the fire.
“Mom, while I’m happy, I’m furious at the same time,” I confess, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I’m fucking pissed about Stiletto opening up her mouth. I should have come to you on my terms, not anybody else’s.”
“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” she says, her voice softening. “Just make sure you tell your fathers soon. If they hear it from someone else they’re going to be upset. You’re one of their little girls, and they love you bunches.”
I smile to myself, “I know, and I love them so much. You know, I’ve never talked to you about this, but how did you know it would work between the three of them? I mean, how did they not get jealous, or snap?”
“Well, that’s a bit complicated.” She admits.
I find a teal sundress that looks absolutely beautiful. “I’m sure it is, but how did you know?”
“I think I just knew. There was some part of me deep down that trusted the three of them more than life itself,” she smirks, picking at another dress on the rack. “They made me feel so safe and I didn’t want to give them up. I was just lucky that I was able to be with them.”
Her words hit me right in the heart. “You guys have a beautiful love story, even though it is totally unconventional.”
Mom laughs hard, “You have no idea. You should have seen your uncles’ faces when they figured out I was with all of your fathers. They were so damn confused.”
I stifle a laugh as I throw the teal dress over my arm. “I bet they were.”
I yank another dress off the rack, my fingers trembling with a mix of frustration and adrenaline.
I love knowing more about my parents’ love story, but what Stiletto did is really getting under my skin.
