Page 29 of Unmistakably Us

“Yes, actually.” Would she have to explain now, because she wasn’t sure she could without betraying Gus? Her sister wouldn’t want that dirty laundry aired, and she did not want to be the one to hang it on the line. But…

“Go on, child,” Francis instructed as she dried her hands and leaned against the counter, giving January her undivided attention. “I don’t judge, and I’m a damn fine listener. It’s clear you have something weighing heavy on you. Something the size of Texas, by the looks of it.”

Francis offered her a motherly touch of encouragement and shit just came spilling out. Some shit, anyway. January held back on betraying her sister and some of the finer details.

When she had finished speaking, she slapped both hands over her mouth as if she could shove the words back in. They were feathers in a hurricane; they were scattered. January was mortified.

No one knew the lengths her parents had gone through to control their children. Even Chadwick had no idea just how her parents had arranged their marriage. He knew he wasn’t her first choice, but he didn’t know the extent of the agreement. He probably wouldn’t give a shit, even if he did, so that was a wasted thought.

With tears swimming in her eyes, she let her line of sight drift up to the older woman’s face. The judgement and disgust she feared would be there were absent. Instead, there was sympathy and love. Francis practically tackled her.

Damn, for a little thing, this woman hugs like a hungry anaconda.

“Oh, sweetheart. Wrong, that is just wrong. Those ain’t no parents. They don’t deserve you.” Sentiments like that just came pouring out of the woman, along with tears.

“Francis, it’s okay, really. Ten years is nothing, and I assure you, they won’t break me.” January didn’t know what else to say to soothe the woman who had become like a mother to her in such a short time.

Francis pushed out of the embrace but kept her hold on January’s arms. Oh shit. The look in her eyes was pure rage. Murderous intent and if January wasn’t mistaken, she would relish the act. “Lucky for you,” Francis released her grip on January and smoothed her hair and clothes, then reached for her cell, “we have two of the best lawyers in the world in this family and we will—”

“No!” January didn't mean to shout, but it was imperative she stop Francis from making that call. “I can’t let you do that. While I suffered from a bad case of over-sharing, there are some things you don’t know, and I prefer to keep it that way. Anyway, I cannot involve anyone legally…and I…” She let her eyes drift to the eleven by fifteen picture on the sofa table. She couldn’t see the front of it from the kitchen, but she knew every detail, every shadow and highlight by heart.

It was she and Gus the night of Gus’ prom. Her sister saved up and bought her a matching prom dress. January wore it all night long, and when Gus got home, they made trash can nachos and talked all night. She fell asleep curled against her sister on their beanbag.

They were still in their dresses the next morning and caught hell for it. It was unladylike and not to mention ruined expensive garments. Blah, blah, blah. Their mother was fit to be tied, but it was so worth it. It was one of the best nights ever.

“I mean, I just…” January trailed off. She didn’t know how to convey the gravity without selling out her sister.

Francis followed her gaze, and January knew the moment she made the connection. Francis had an extremely open face. Maybe Francis needed confirmation, but it was more likely she needed January to know she knew. Whatever the reason, Francis walked over to the sofa table and lifted the frame off the glass surface.

The way she looked at the picture and caressed it with such affection warmed January’s soul. Augusta had found the thing she had been denied from birth: a loving and understanding family. Francis set the picture back down and shallowly nodded twice in quick succession. “Right, no law dogs.” Francis returned to the kitchen and resumed her prep work.

Just when January thought the conversation was put to rest, the older woman spoke, “However, we need to do something, because that ain’t no biscuit, and you deserve biscuits, damn it.”

“Oooh, are you making biscuits?” Both occupants of the kitchen turned toward the voice. Gus was entering the door loaded down with groceries. January rushed to unburden her sister.

“Of course, we are," Francis answered.

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