Page 11 of Talk About… Rivalry

My eyebrows rose at the request. He never sent me up there, in fact, it was generally off limits. Stuff my mom left behind when she left us.

“What’s up there?” I asked when I finally reached him.

He stared down at me with his pale green eyes. His expression was as stoic as always but he swallowed hard and let out a breath.

“There’s a box of my mama’s old books. Can you find it for me? Dale and I were talkin’ about giving them up. We don’t need them and the librarian stopped by again to ask after donations for the annual book sale. Figured I could contribute this time ‘round.”

“Okay,” I said, my voice unsure as I glanced up at the house.

“You alright?” The question was even stranger than the request. I couldn’t remember a single time in my life that my father had asked about me like that.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, stumbling over the words.

“The house won’t bite,” he said, voice a bit sad before he gave me an unreadable look, then walked away.

“What the hell?” I muttered to myself before walking toward the main house. My hands shook and my stomach churned as I reached the porch. I stopped, hand on the knob, taking a breath before entering.

This was the house I grew up in, but I hated being in there and avoided it at all costs. Most of my meal prep was done over at Mama Whitaker’s place. That kitchen was full of warmth and life.

My eyes cast over the faded yellow walls and worn down furniture. There wasn’t a single piece that didn’t have a nick or tear in it somewhere. It smelled of cedar and tobacco, the air stale and a bit musty. There was so much history within these walls, I just wish I was a welcomed part of it.

I’d never felt settled here, accepted. I was the daughter when he needed a son. The reminder his mate had left us and this town behind.

Yet, I was out there every day keeping this farm running right alongside him.

What I needed was to not let the memories drag me down. Not after already being emotionally drained from reading that long, awful list of atrocities against Queenie.

With a shaky breath I started for the attic door, digging my phone out of my pocket as I walked. Avery answered in two rings, my best friend was always there for me when I needed her, even if I never really let her see this side of me often.

“What’s up?” she asked. There was clanking behind her like she was in the middle of something.

“If you’re busy we can talk later,” I offered.

“Nah, you called instead of texting, Sid. What’s wrong?”

“Do I call that little?” I asked, huffing out a laugh.

“Talk, woman,” she growled, though it held little heat. “Don’t make me go get my Mama.”

“Nothing, I’m just digging through Dad’s attic to find some old box of books.”

“Ah, I know you hate that house,” she said gently. “Want me to head over? No one should dig through old memories alone.”

“No, you can’t waddle up these steps, Avery,” I teased. Honestly, it felt silly to need a rescue for something so simple. “Just tell me what you’re working on and keep me company.”

If she heard the pleading in my voice she didn’t call me on it. Instead, Avery started rambling on about her life. I listened as I slowly walked up the stairs, the single bulb overhead casting a soft light over the old wooden stairs. The dust was so heavy on the stairs that I was leaving footprints behind.

How long had it been since anyone had been up here?

I doubted the librarian wanted anything I would find up here.

At one time there had been a path, but a few overfilled boxes were in the way. I grunted as I shifted them aside, sneezing as a cloud of dust stirred thanks to my not-so-gentle treatment of the boxes. A picture fell out and I crouched down to pick it up.

The family in the picture looked like strangers. I recognized my mom right away. She was a pretty omega. We shared the same chestnut hair and our faces were a similar shape, but that was where the similarities ended. I looked more like my dad than her.

Dad wasn’t smiling, but the corner of his mouth was tipped up slightly, making him seem almost gentle. His eyes were locked on her as she smiled widely at the camera. I was between them, a cute smile on my younger self’s face.

If only she knew.

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