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I pushed through her front door with my head held high and my shoulders back. Not only because she’d criticize for hunching if I didn’t, but because I wanted to.
She looked up from stirring something on the stove, steam floating off it as well as a delicious aroma. Her gray-flecked hair stuck to her damp forehead, wrinkles creasing the space between her brows. “You’re late.”
“Hello to you, too, Mama.” I dropped an obligatory kiss on the shorter woman’s weathered cheek.
She grabbed an apron from the drawer and tossed it in my direction, not returning my attempt at affection. “The vegetables need chopping. They should already be on in the oven. I was counting on you being here at six, but no, of course not. Eve runs on Eve time.”
I dug my fingers into the fabric of the apron and glanced in the direction of the living room. “Are Luca and Giles here? What about Papa?”
“Of course. They’re always on time. Unlike you.”
“And they couldn’t have helped?”
She silenced me with a glare.
Of course not. Because she never expected my father or brothers to lift a finger. They never offered either, but even if they had, she would have shooed them away.
I pulled potatoes onto a chopping board and ran a knife through them, halving, then quartering, before tossing them into a bowl, ready for my mother. The knife thwacked against the board, louder than truly necessary.
I moved on to the carrots, popping a piece into my mouth to munch on. When I reached for another, my mother smacked my hand. “Stop snacking! You’ll never find a man if you get fat!”
“Like your mama!” my father shouted from the living room.
I pinned him with a glare through the doorway. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Hush!” my mother snapped. “Do your work.”
I gaped at her. “He just called you fat and you snap at me?”
She didn’t say anything. The only sign that she was at all bothered by his comments was the vicious way she shook the salt into her pot.
“What’s cooking, Mama?” Luca wandered in from the living room. “Hey, Eve.”
I nodded at him, too annoyed with my parents. My father for being such a prick. My mother for not standing up for herself.
Luca leaned on the countertop and snuck a piece of carrot from my pile. “Heard you got arrested at the mayoral candidate’s rally the other week.”
“What?” Mama gasped, spinning around. “Arrested?”
I glared at my brother. “Seriously?”
He cringed. “Ooh, sorry. You didn’t tell the parentals?”
“Did you tell the parentals about the time Louisa Tepernath blew you in the church bathrooms after Sunday mass?”
The blood drained from my mother’s face. “Eve! Luca!”
His mouth dropped open. “You’re a bitch.”
“Ooh, sorry,” I mimicked, fighting back a laugh.
If looks could kill, I would have been dead on the spot. But typical of my mother, she ignored my brother’s sins and focused on mine. “What does he mean you got arrested? Where? What for? How could you do this? What if my friends find out?”
I shrugged. “Please. We live in Saint View. Like Juliet’s kids have never been arrested. They’re thugs!”
She slapped my hand again like I was a naughty child.
I shot an annoyed glance at her. “I was just defending what’s mine. William Reed wants to shut my club down. So I turned up at his rally and told him to take a hike. In return, he had me arrested.”
