Page 71 of The Pucker and the Princess
“I know, sis,” Lance says quietly. “He was trying to give me the life you wanted, never acknowledging that he had an heir ready and willing and instead trying to force it on me. It sucked for both of us.”
I blink away the tears that rise at his words and shake my head. “Well, I’m glad you at least managed to get what you want.”
Tilting his head to the side, he gives me a small smile. “But you’re getting what you want now, too, aren’t you?” He gestures around. “No way in hell you’d want to come back here to work for Dad, even if he did promise you the shop when he retires.”
I laugh. “Like he’ll ever retire. That man’ll die with a wrench in his hand, and you and I both know it.”
He laughs too. “True. But you know what I mean.”
“I do. And no, I wouldn’t come back, even if he offered to sign the shop over to me right now. I don’t want it anymore.” That dream died a long time ago, and even the offshoot that sprang up when I was with Peter withered years ago too. I’ve moved on. And Dad’s the one who has to face the reality that he won’t have the legacy he dreamed of when we were kids, and it’s all his own fault. Not that I think he’ll ever admit that, even if it’s the truth.
Lance gives me a hug. “See? We’re all better off. Gabby and Jonathan will be here tomorrow. We outnumber them by a lot. Don’t let his bullshit get to you.”
Chuckling, I pat his back. “I could say the same to you.”
He pulls back and smiles. “Just wait. You’ll probably need to soon. We’ve literally been here twenty-four hours. My son just turned one a few months ago. And Dad’s already started in on how we should all move to Texas so Nate can take over the shop, since I so defiantly rejected him and his plans.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “Poor kid. Good thing you live far away already.”
“Right? Plus we have Abby’s mom as a built-in excuse for why we can’t move closer.”
I nod. “Oh, shucks. Can’t abandon Abby’s mom. She’d be all alone in the world, and who’d want that on their conscience?” I sound sarcastic, but it’s the truth. I don’t know all the details, but I know Lance’s mother-in-law needs a certain amount of looking after. As much as he wanted to get away and stay away, he wouldn’t have had the guts to defy Dad this openly without her mom’s genuine need for help keeping them in Spokane.
A door clicks open down the hall, and Lance pokes his head out, a wide smile taking over his face.
“I thought I heard someone whispering out here,” Abby says, stepping past Lance to offer me a hug. “How was your flight?”
“Boring. Fine.”
She chuckles. “You’re as bad as Lance, never wanting to sit still for that long.” I shrug. She’s not wrong. “I’m glad you made it safely,” she continues. “I just got Nate down for a nap. His sleep schedule’s all over the place right now. I’m hoping tonight won’t be too bad.” She grimaces. “But let’s go get some coffee or something. Or at least,Ineed some coffee.”
Lance nods. “Same. We can catch up in the kitchen.”
“Let me just get settled,” I tell them. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Nodding, they leave, and I close the door behind them, leaning my head against it and taking a deep breath. Lance is right about one thing. Even without Gabby and Jonathan, we outnumber Mom and Dad. If we stick together, we’ll all get through this.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Marissa
After a fairly leisurelyevening last night, today’s been a whirlwind since Gabby and Jonathan’s arrival. And there’s currently a bit of a spat in the kitchen between Gabby and Mom.
“I told you before we agreed to come that we’d only be here for three days, Mom.” Gabby’s voice carries into the living room where I’m on the floor with Nate, stacking blocks for him to knock down while Lance and Abby cuddle on the couch.
“But that means you’re leaving before Christmas!” Mom nearly shouts. “And I booked the photographer for the twenty-sixth!” Mom doesn’t raise her voice very often, so she’s really upset by this.
“Yes, Mother. I’m aware that we’ll be leaving before Christmas, and you should know that too. I emailed you our itinerary. You obviously got it, since you knew to expect us today.”
A snort from Mom. “Like it matters if we knew or not when you hired a driver to bring you here.”
There’s a pause, and Lance and I exchange looks, waiting for one of Gabby’s famed explosions. When she was little, she’d scream like a banshee when she felt like no one was listening to her, and I guarantee that’s how she feels right now.
But little Gabby’s all grown up, and even though Lance is married with a baby and I was a bridesmaid at Gabby’s wedding a few years ago, sometimes I forget that she’s not the little girl who screamed and stomped and carried on like a demon child.
We all have to strain to hear her next words because they’re so quiet and measured. “Mom. I’m getting a little concerned by your apparent difficulties with your memory. Do I need to tell Dad he should take you to the doctor for a test of your cognitive abilities?”
Mom huffs and splutters, and Lance looks like he’s about to bust a gut from holding in his laughter. We all know that Mom’s in full possession of all her cognitive abilities. This stunt with Gabby is willful ignorance, and Gabby’s calling her bluff. It’s a masterful tactic, if I do say so myself. I might have to keep that in mind the next time Mom tries to pull that on me.
