Page 71 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
I glance up, surprised. Seriously? That part didn’t make it into the gossip?
I chuckle and scoop up some potatoes with my fork, blowing on it to cool it down. My still slightly burning finger reminding me of the lesson I learned during my quality control earlier.
“They are Nic’s ex-fiancé and her sister.” The two of them shoot each other a confused glance before they turn to me again.
“That’s … not what we were expecting. Karen said they’re some kind of hooligans.”
I give them the rundown of everything that’s happened, and with each detail, my mom’s expression shifts further into shock. Even my dad’s usually solid poker face cracks, especially when I get to the part about her parents not only knowing about their scheme all along but encouraging it.
“Her fiancé? And her sister?” Dad asks, shocked, and I nod slowly.
“That poor thing,” Mom finally whispers, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Oh God, I can’t imagine. How are you two dealing with all of this?”
“She’s dealing with it … somehow. Sometimes I catch her on her back porch, staring at nothing, and know she’s still mourning the family she wanted to have. I don’t know how to help her,” I say, pushing my food around the plate, suddenly losing my appetite. “I can’t exactly wipe away her emotions.”
I take a deep breath, putting down my fork.
“She’s suffering, but that encourages them. They enjoy putting salt in her wounds and watching her be in pain, and there’s nothing I can do aside from being there for her.”
“I mean, you could give them a proper ass-whooping,” Dad points out, but I shake my head, and Mom shoots him a disapproving glare.
“He will do no such thing,” she scolds him then shoots me a sharp glance. “Tell me you won’t.”
“Scout’s honor.”
“Good. Honey, from my understanding, what those two want is a reaction. It’s a tale as old as time, the true motivation for any regular old bully. They don’t care what kind, but if you give them a reaction, they know they can get to you. They’ve accomplished their mission. As much as I’m sure most people in Wayward Hollow would appreciate you breaking his nose, and as much as I’m sure Erik will coincidentally turn the other way and not see a thing, I don’t think it would be wise to give them what they want.”
Mom frowns, putting down her cutlery. “I’m sure their comeuppance will come. And until then, the best you can do is ignore them. Maybe that will make them go away by themselves.”
“I’m not that optimistic, but we don’t exactly have a choice,” I say, my appetite slowly returning, probably because of that nice buttery smell from the potatoes that makes me salivate. “And if not … who knows? Maybe the pitchforks will actually come out.”
“I do expect a call in that case,” Dad says with a mischievous grin. “Last witch hunt was when we were in high school.”
“Honey, you realize that wasn’t real, right? Just some event they organized to build some neighborly spirit.”
“And it worked,” Dad laughs, and I shake my head at them.
“Oh, plenty is happening, though. Did you know that Jacob’s cow gave birth a few days ago?”
“No way,” Mom says, full of excitement, her eyes shining happily. She adores baby cows. “You know, I wanted to visit your aunt soon anyway.”
“Suuure you did,” I say and shake my head amusedly.
If she could, she’d have half a farm here, but then again, she wouldn’t be able to go on that cruise. They might allow dogs, but I’m not sure about cows.
And while the two of them bicker about when to visit my dad’s sister, I can’t help but watch them. The way they look at each other. How acutely aware my dad is of every single move my mom makes, putting his hand over the table’s edge when she picks something up off the ground, to prevent her from banging her head on her way back up.
That is the kind of love I want to have when I’m their age.
And I think I might know who I want to have that with.
Chapter 29
Henry
Lauren:Come to Caleb’s. NOW.
“Fuck,” I mumble, lowering my camera and quickly slipping the lens cap back on before tucking it into my bag. I whistle sharply for Jensen Ackles, who immediately comes running to me.
