Page 106 of Pin-up Girl

The rest of the morning and early afternoon went well. From talking to a seller in another state about swapping some clothing pieces, to working with a place that did modern quality recreations of classic styles. They’d sent me some samples, and I was happy to sell their clothing.

As the clock ticked toward school letting out, I shifted gears to what I was going to do with Dee when she came over. I had plans for an All Hallows Eve display, but I’d need a few supplies first.

I made sure my afternoon employee was set, and I walked down the street to Granny’s Yarn Shop. We all called her Granny, despite her only being related to Camden, because she treated us all like grandchildren she loved.

Which was a nice contrast to my actual grandmother.

When I walked into Granny’s, no one was in the main shop. I wasn’t surprised—Granny had a dedicated customer base, but not a huge one. She owned the property, she’d been here for decades, and she kept the store open to hang out as much as anything.

Voices drifted out from the other room, and my blood ran cold. Was that Grandma—Donna—talking to Granny?

I followed the sound, but stopped before I reached the doorway to the back room.

Sure enough, my grandma—I was going to have to think of her as Donna or confuse myself—was talking to Granny.

“I just want what’s best for her,” Donna said.

I hated that she was talking this way about Sylvie.

“Aubrey’s doing well for herself,” Granny’s words stopped me in my tracks. “It’s difficult to believe she’s on a bad path.”

They were talking about me? My feet froze to the ground. I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help myself. I’d stick up for Sylvie all day, but when it came to me?

“She could be on a better one,” Donna said.

Sometimes I forgot that the generational friendships in Haddarville were as old as the town itself. Donna and Granny went to school together, and were friends back in their day.

That was a far more pleasant thought than focusing on what they were saying about me.

“Better by whose rules?” Granny asked.

“This isn’t subjective.” Donna’s voice was cool.

It absolutely was subjective. She didn’t get to say what made my life good. But the protest was stuck in my throat.

“It is subjective,” Granny said. “Aubrey’s doing remarkably well. She’s happy, she’s got a successful business and she’s got wonderful friends.”

Bless her.

Donna sighed, and I held my breath for a snide comment. Instead, she said. “She truly does.”

This was ridiculous. “Then why are you trying so hard to make me give it up?” I interrupted.

Donna looked surprised to see me. Granny didn’t.

Which was the perfect opening for me to keep talking. “Why do you spend so much time tearing me down and telling me how disappointing I am?” I didn’t mean to be that blunt, but I was sick of dancing around the way she treated me. “Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.” Donna’s reply didn’t convince me.

“Are you sure?”

Her mask cracked, and the corners of her eyes tugged down. “I envy you.”

Bullshit. “Bullshit.”

“You do what you want. You’re a beautiful woman with a beautiful life.” Donna met my gaze.

Uh-huh. “Why do you keep telling me it’s wrong, in that case?”

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