Page 67 of It Runs in the Family

“Or a lot,” Ava said.

I considered arguing with them, but I knew it was pointless. Once they got something in their head, they didn’t easily let it go. But Garrett was probably about to rush back to his place to let me in, so I sent him a text.

Ava and Mary Ellen are kidnapping me for the afternoon, so don’t rush home

After last night, kidnapping is bad choice of words

I grinned.

Too soon?

I’d tell you to make good choices, but you already do

I knew he was telling me I shouldn’t let my cousins talk me into more mischief, but part of me was tired of being the responsible one. From work to my home, to helping out Granny, I’d spent most of my life trying to prove to the world I wasn’t my mother. But what did my family see?

“Does everyone think I’m after Granny’s farm?” I asked quietly.

Ava glanced back at me, her eyes glittering with irritation. “Everyone knows that Aunt Millie is a greedy woman.”

“And a deaf dimwit,” Mary Ellen added.

“That too,” Ava conceded.

“That didn’t really answer the question,” I said dryly. “But it was a pretty good try at avoiding it.”

They were both silent.

“So they do?”

“Not everyone,” Mary Ellen said, sliding her hands over the steering wheel.

“But some do.”

“Half the family are a bunch of idiots,” Ava said. “Look at Trinity.”

“And they all come from Granny’s oldest two kids,” Mary Ellen said.

Which would be Uncle Dale and his slightly younger sister, Aunt Millie.

“But the rest of the cousins don’t think that,” Mary Ellen added.

“I don’t want Granny’s farm,” I said. “I wouldn’t know the first thing of what to do with it.”

“They don’t want to run the farm,” Mary Ellen scoffed. “They want to sell it and get the money.”

“But that’s not what Granny wants,” I said.

“Since when do they give a shit what Granny wants?” Ava asked.

“They come to Sunday dinner.”

Ava gave me a look of pity. “For someone so smart, sometimes you can be so naïve.”

Then it hit me. “They’re coming because they want to inherit her farm.”

“Aunt Millie and Uncle Dale’s kids don’t think they’re gonna get it,” Mary Ellen said with a frown, “but I can assure you Aunt Millie and Uncle Dale both have delusions of inheriting the farm themselves. They want to look good, so they’ve told their kids that if they inherit the place, they’ll get a cut after they sell it.”

“They told their kids they’ll get their portion as long as they keep comin’ to dinner?” I repeated.