Page 208 of Pucking Sweet

“Lord rue the day your own baby girl calls you and tells you that she has not one, but two, gentleman callers. I swear, this is like hearing the plot ofThe Scarlet Letterhas up and come to life, and your own precious child is playing the lead role of Hester Prynne!”

“Wow,” I murmur, shifting the cat off my lap. “Mom, I have to go—”

“Well, just wait a minute now,” she says. “I think we need to talk about Nana’s money first.”

Heaven help me, not this again. “What about it, Mom?”

“Well, I’m still the guarantor of her estate,” she replies. “Which means it falls to me to see that her money is spent in a way that would do her memory honor.”

“I know, Momma. And I loved, Nana,” I’m quick to say. “She was my dearest friend in the family—”

“Well, how do you think she would feel knowing you’re setting yourself up for a lifetime of ridicule?” she says over me. “How do you think she’d feel knowing you’re gonna push that on an innocent baby, confusing them and making them stand out to their peers? Bullying is real, Poppy. I mean, did you think aboutanyof this?”

Tears burn sharp and painful. It’s like she’s reading aloud from the pages of my anxiety journal. All my darkest fears and worries are breathed to life in her poisoned words. “I’ve thought about it a lot, Mom. But at the end of the day, I think what matters most is that my children will know they are loved and happy and cared for by parents who cherish them.”

“Well, I just don’t see how Nana could support this lifestyle choice,” she says. “And yes, Poppy, you are making a choice here. You arechoosingto put your own selfish desires over the needs of a child. I mean, who does that? Such behavior cannot be rewarded, honey, I’m sorry.”

“So, what?” I say. “Are you gonna cut me off and cut me out because I won’t break up with my boyfriends? Are you gonna take all the money my precious Nana left me, money that should be going to my son?”

“I don’t see that you’re leaving me a choice.”

I sit forward in my chair, jostling the cat. “What are you gonna do, Mom? Give it to Violet and Anderson, your perfect match made in heaven?”

“Well, now, that’s not a bad idea—”

“He doesn’t even love her!” I cry. “He’s just using her to get to Daddy and to climb the ladder.”

“Poppy, why would you say such an awful thing?”

“Because, Mom, he told me so. Because he is the same person he was three years ago. He is spoiled and selfish and self-serving.He doesn’t love her, he admitted it. And, by the way, she doesn’t love him either,” I add. “She’s just sick and tired of being treated like she’s good-for-nothing. She wants to do you proud, so she’s marrying someoneyouwould choose, regardless of her own feelings.”

“Now you’re just being cruel again.”

“No, I’m being honest. They are not a match made in heaven, Mom. They are a pair of desperate, lonely schemers destined for a living hell if you make them marry each other.”

“Once again, you are just jealous of your sister—”

“Oh my god,” I cry.

“Yes, you are jealous,” she says over me. “And you’re brokenhearted, and vulnerable, and you’re acting out. But here’s how it’s gonna be, Miss Poppy Girl. You are coming to your sister’s wedding, do you understand me? And you will not embarrass us with this mess of your ‘partners’ and your secret love child. You will show up, you will stand up, and you will smile and watch our sweet Violet marry into the Montgomerys. And I am telling you, honey, if you mess up this chance for her, I will guarantee that you never see a dime of Nana’s money. Do you understand me? And don’t think I won’t get your daddy involved if I have to.”

“And what the heck does that mean?”

She doesn’t reply. She knows whatever my brain can conjure up is worse than any other threat she could make. My dad is a powerful man with powerful friends. Righteous anger surges inside as I grip the arm of my chair with one hand. “Momma, you listen to me now. If you or Daddy doanythingto negatively impact the careers of my men, or interfere in our lives in any way, I will never forgive you. You get between me and my family, and I willrageon you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Daddy taught me everything I know about PR,” I say over her. “Don’t think I don’t know how to sell and spin a story that would ruin you both.”

She huffs. “And now you’re threatening your own mother?”

“You threatened me first.”

“I did no such thing—”

“You threaten my men, you threaten me,” I shout, my rage ready to boil over.

We’re both quiet for a minute, like a pair of tired bears circling each other before they land another blow.

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