Page 54 of If You Give a Grump a Christmas Tree Farm
Locating the bottle of wine that we picked up the last time we were out, I pour two glasses and return to the living room, holding one out to her.
“I know we were planning to save this for opening day, but I’ll get another bottle for that.”
She accepts the glass and takes a small sip.
Sitting next to her, I lay a hand on her knee. “I think you need some chill time. You’ve been working so hard for the past six weeks. It’s been a lot, and it’s no wonder if you feel overwhelmed.”
“You don’t think I’m in over my head, do you? Is it a silly idea that I could handle all this if you decide to sell your half? Do you think I actually have the capabilities to run the place, or am I being foolish?”
“Whoa. Where did all that come from? I mean, I know I’ve been an asshole, but have I made you feel this way?”
She shakes her head.
“Rebecca, I don’t think any of that is true. You’re not in over your head; it’s not a silly idea to want to run this place, and you definitely are a capable woman.”
“Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”
“Who filled your head with all that bullshit?”
She plays with her ring, drawing my eyes, and I know without a word my answer.
“My fucking brother. Right?”
She nods. “I suppose so. He never thought much of my abilities. He’d always laugh at any ideas I had, like they were all silly or a joke.”
“That was just a way to keep you down.”
That gets me a frown. “What do you mean?”
“You know, babe, let me tell you how my brother treated me. I was made to look like I did all these bad things, and my parents thought I was the black sheep, so I guess I started to live up to their expectations.
“I was pissed they always favored David and that they never—not a single time—took up for me. It changed how everyone treated me. That gets to a kid, and yeah, I’ll admit, I carry a lot of baggage from it.”
“I’m so sorry, JJ.”
“It’s hard for me to talk about it, even now. I hate I was that weak and vulnerable to my brother.”
“You were just a child.”
“Yeah, and I carry that child inside me to this day—the one who was used and broken until I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s why I left home when I was a teenager.”
“What happened then?”
“You sure you want to hear all that?”
She nods.
“I was living on the street for a while. Hitchhiked to Birmingham. Met the guys in the club. I sort of fell in with them and started hanging around. They took me under their wing, and I thank God every single day they did so.”
“Took you in… What does that mean?”
I shrug. “They gave me a room to stay in and fed me. In exchange, I used to clean the clubhouse and do all the bullshitgrunt jobs just like a prospect, but I wasn’t allowed to be a prospect until I was eighteen.”
“Was that just as bad as your home life?”
“Not at all. I loved it. Yeah, I did the crap jobs, but they gave me a roof over my head, and food in my belly, and in a weird way, even though I wasn’t a patched brother, I felt like they had my back like I was a little brother. In a way, they became my family.”
“Your found family,” she murmurs.
