Page 67 of Stowaway Whirlwind
“Marigold, yes,” she says, briefly shaking his hand. I didn’t think I was a petty person, but it pleases me something awful that she hasn’t given them leave to call herGoldie,unlike me and our friends. It has to be earned, and these two haven’t done so yet.
After another awkward moment in which the women look like they’re deciding whether or not to shake hands, Goldie steps past me to the front door to punch in the code. “Why don’t y’all come on in,” she says, holding the door open.
It feels both natural and bizarre having Amanda step into the house. This is where she grew up. It used to be her home as much as mine. But she’s been gone longer than she lived in this town, so she feels like a stranger.
As for Goldie, it feels wholly natural that she leads Vincent into the kitchen with the offer of making tea or coffee, even though she’s only lived here for a little over six weeks.
Amanda is still clinging to her bag, standing in the entryway next to Vincent’s black carry-on luggage as she scrutinizes the living room, cataloging the changes I’ve made since Dad passed. I look around as if seeing it for the first time, heartened to see the portable diaper changing station Goldie set up in the living room, along with one of Lily’s baby blankets thrown over the arm of the recliner. Best of all is the photo of Lily in her pink ball cap now hanging next to the front door.
I clear my throat. “How long will you be staying in town?”
“Until Friday.”
I nod, my heart thumping at the possibility that she wants to work on our relationship if she’s planning on coming to the wedding. “And you’re staying here? At the house?”
“Yes.” As if it’s an afterthought, she says, “If that’s alright with you.”
I smile internally, hearing her accent poke through her otherwise crisp pronunciations when she saysalright.
“If it’s alright with Goldie, then it’s alright by me.”
She stiffens but nods. I grab the handle of Vincent’s rolling luggage and lead her into my old bedroom, glad we have a spare bed available for the two of them.
Just before I leave her to get settled in, I turn and say, “I’m glad you could make it.”
For a moment, I think she’s not going to answer, but then she says in a low voice, “Me too.”
Chapter 24
Goldie
“Not to sound mean, but your sister’s kind of—”
“An uppity ice queen?”
“Sure. Yeah. That’s definitely what I was going to say.”Not.
I felt positively Neanderthal-ish throughout dinner in one of Davis’s T-shirts and the leggings I changed into after we got home. Add to it the disdainful look Amanda couldn’t hide when I told her I’m not in school and don’t have any idea what I want to do career-wise—unlike Dolly, who is working toward earning her bachelor’s degree in Early Childhood Education. I felt about two feet tall as I scarfed down the barbecue chicken Davis cooked up on the grill while Amanda pushed the potato salad I made around her plate, never taking a bite.
Davis was the biggest Neanderthal of all, though, as the more clipped Amanda was with her accent, the longer Davis made his vowels, really drawing them out. I thought she was going to implode when he told her that we were planning on havingat leasteight babies but were open to the possibility of having more—a bighell no.
Davis snorts as he pulls me on top of him in the middle of the bed. “You’ll get used to her.”
“Do I have to?” I fake pout, but it breaks when I laugh.
“Brat.” Davis pops the side of my ass when I sit up to straddle his hips. He grabs my waist when I roll back and forth along his hard ridge beneath his plaid pajama pants, having kicked off my leggings before getting into bed.
“You know, their reactions were real interesting when you said I was going to stay home with our future kids.” I don’t know if it was a joke meant to tick his sister off—who had taken on this pensive quality when Vincent told us they weren’t planning on having children—butI hope not, I admit to myself, though I’m not eager to find out just yet.
“I noticed.”
“So was her reaction when Vincent tried holding her hand.” After dinner and putting Lily to bed, we sat out on the front porch with our drinks, Amanda and Vincent in the rocking chairs, while Davis and I took the swing. I sat with my legs across Davis’s lap while he rubbed my calves and slowly moved the swing back and forth. The conversation was stilted and interrupted by long bouts of silence between the siblings.
Davis grunts. “How about we stop talking about my sister while you’re riding my dick, yeah?”
I laugh and concede, getting Davis really worked up, grinding on him as I stroke his chest and belly, then tease the sensitive skin along his waistband as if I’m going to pull his pants down before I stop with an exaggerated yawn. I lean down, give him a peck on the lips, and then roll off of him onto my side, facing the wall. “Goodnight. Sleep tight.”
“What…Goldie?”
