And even though she threatened to tell my daughter about the absolute fuckery of my twenty-first birthday, there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for that woman. She might not be family, but I love her sure as the sun rises in the east, and I can only hope that my daughter gets to grow up loving her too.
16
JENSEN
“Hey, I used the air fryer. I hope that’s okay,” Nessa says in lieu of a greeting. The house smells like curry, and my stomach grumbles as I kick off my boots and set them on the mat next to the door.
“I told you, while you’re here it’s yours.”
“I know but it’s still weird. I haven’t had a roommate besides Kinsley in years let alone lived with a man.”
“I appreciate you not calling me a boy,” I say without thinking as I slump down on the barstool at the counter.
Looking up at me from under her lashes, she asks, “People mistake you for a boy often?”
My lips twitch but I shake my head. “No, but there’s one resident in Clementine Creek who always makes me feel like a kid again. Miss Thelma. And she stopped by the station today.”
“Miss Thelma, huh? She on the run with a woman named Louise?”
“No, but her cat is named Louise and she’s managed to have her face printed on every shirt, dress, and pair of leggings in her closet.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was.”
“That’s hilarious,” she says with a laugh, filling a glass with water and sliding it across the counter to me.
“Thanks,” I say, drinking half of the cool liquid in one gulp. “I’m so happy you feel that way because she’s coming over tomorrow for dinner.”
“She what?” Nessa’s hands land on her hips with a huff—better than mad I suppose.
“Who’s the scariest person you know?”
“Me,” she answers automatically and I chuckle.
She doesn’t.
“Okay, well then, she’s you in fifty years. She’s the town busybody but she’s currently spinning a story around town about how you’re my cousin visiting with your baby.”
“And why would she do that?”
“Because she recognizes that I’m trying to get myself settled before all hell breaks loose and people start linin’ up at the door with casseroles and knit booties.”
“That’s oddly specific.”
“But it’s accurate and I’m just not ready for it yet. I just told Mama and you saw how that went.” She opens her mouth to speak but I just hold up my hands. “It will be fine, I know that. But let’s just get through dinner tomorrow and then I’ll deal with the rest.”
“Whatever you want,” she says with a shrug like Iwantto be the center of town attention.
I don’t.
So, I focus on the next best thing.
“Miss Thelma promised to bring a peach pie because it’s my favorite.”
“Hey, mine too. That’s so weird.” Her smile is genuine as she plates the coconut chicken curry and hands it over before grabbing her own and taking the stool next to me.
Weird.
