Page 122 of Peaches & Pistols

“Maybe not certain details you want to keep private, but overall. She’s twenty-four, Greyson. Just two years younger than me. As much as you might not want to accept it, she grew up and is a perfectly capable, competent young woman. You’d go to war if someone told me I didn’t have the right to know something that directly impacted me and our family,” Mia says.

Mia’s strengthening backbone amazes me every day. She’s overcome so much, and I don’t mind her standing up to me any damn time.

I squeeze and release Mia’s hand with a tight smile to tell her I’m not angry with her, and sit on the edge of my seat, elbows resting on my knees, fingers laced between my legs.

“Alright, Olivia. I’m going to do this once. One fucking time, and then I need you to drop it. If more details come out over time, so be it. But I haven’t spent the last twenty-four years protecting you just to bury you in this family’s pain,” I say pointedly.

Olivia nods her agreement, her bouncing knee the only indication of her nerves.

“From the outside, Meredith and my dad had a great relationship. Looking back, I wonder why they ever got married. She didn’t like the hardware store or anything Dad did for that matter. Come to think of it, it may’ve been a shotgun wedding if she was already pregnant with me.”

They never said one way or the other and I was too young to put the dates together.

“We lived in this apartment and Meredith made her dislike of it well known. She wanted a big, fancy house. Not only was it something they couldn’t afford, but it wasn’t feasible when their sole source of income was the hardware store downstairs.

“I spent a lot of time with my dad at the store because Meredith spent most of her time trying to get in with different crowds to advance her ‘status’—when all my dad did was his fucking best. To her everything was about appearances, and she did everything she could to appear ‘better than’, regardless of how hard my dad worked.”

A flicker of hurt passes across my sister’s face that I don’t understand, but I continue.

“Anytime I couldn’t be at the store with my dad, I spent at the ranch with the Andersens. Dad was always busy with business and the store, but he made time for me when he could. Meredith did no such thing. She taxied me to and from school, maintained a clean house, and provided homecooked meals. I don’t think she did it because she wanted to or cared about us. I think she did it because if any of her circle found out she wasn’t a good homemaker, they’d look down on her.

“Dad died when I was eleven. Picture that, Liv. I was just one year older than Harper when my dad died. Do you know what Meredith did?”

I don’t continue until Olivia acknowledges my question with a shake of her head, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“She stopped being my mom. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you at eleven fucking years old, I had to learn how to wash my clothes and make simple meals and lunches for school because she stopped taking care of me. She did her laundry and would leave mine in the hamper. She made meals but only for herself.

“She was lost in her grief losing my dad. I wouldn’t blame her for it, had she not so easily neglected me. It wasn’t until years later she admitted it was because I looked too much like my dad and didn’t want anything to do with ‘that part of her life’.”

Both Olivia and Mia look horrified, and a small, decayed piece inside me is vindicated that I was right to feel as hurt as I did back then, and all these years.

“She tried to liquidate the hardware store and was furious she couldn’t because it was held in a trust, of which the next living beneficiary was me. She was relentless about wanting a second chance at life, to ‘finally be happy’. Fuck me, right? She’d already physically given up on me, but she wanted to move on from me emotionally too.

“She married your dad within a year of my dad’s death. It was like one morning she woke up and became a different woman. She got pregnant with you and finally had her perfect little family. A fancy house up Granger Hill, an ‘educated’ husband with ambition not tied to a dirty old store, and a baby on the way. It was like I never existed at all.

“I essentially lived with the Andersens after that. It was torture living in Jack and Meredith’s house counting down to my eighteenth birthday. I had to watch them live their perfect life while I was just a legal obligation they were forced to house. I loved spending time with you, don’t get me wrong, and they never missed an opportunity to use me for free babysitting.

“The day I turned eighteen, I moved into this apartment and took full control of the business. We mutually stopped speaking after that. You were six years old, Liv. Just a hair younger than Everly is now. There’s no way you could understand the dynamics of what had happened, nor should you have. At some point, Meredith found her conscience and started reaching out to make amends. I had no desire to even lay eyes on her.”

Olivia’s holding on to her composure with every ounce of pride she has, but I don’t miss the involuntary tremble of her bottom lip or forced swallow. She’s struggling.

“So, now that you know our history, you can stop trying to guilt me into reconnecting with Meredith. Stop forcing the issue. Mia and I will decide for our family.”

I hate hurting my baby sister, but she insisted she wanted to know the truth. Doesn’t change the face that each tear trickling down her freckled cheeks is a stab to my heart.

Olivia pops up from her seat and rounds the couch to put her boots on by the front door.

“Are you okay?” Mia kindly asks Olivia.

“No. Not even a little.” Her honesty stings, but she got what she asked for.

“Thank you for telling me your side of the story.” She turns to my fiancée with a pained smile. “Please tell the girls I love them, and that I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye.”

The soft click of my front door is as loud as a gunshot.

41

“How long has he been out there?” Delilah asks, cozying up next to me.