Page 88 of Wild Flower

“Iamin the middle of it,” she barks, not masking her holier-than-thou tone. “Mom is in hysterics and she won’t stop calling me.”

“Then tell her politely that you’re not getting involved.”

“That’s not how this works, Becca. Mom always calls me about you. I’m always involved.”

Really? I pinch the bridge of my nose and take another deep breath, but it’s hard not to think about years of them gossiping behind my back.

“I don’t need you to play telephone for Mom,” I explain. “You can respectfully bow out of this situation like an adult.” Helena harumphs at that comment like I don’t have the right to use it. “And if you can’t do that, Hel, then you’re clearly on mom’s side and you have no interest in helping me move forward with my life.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t pit us against each other,” she complains. “I’m not choosing sides. I’m just in the dark—like Mom—about what’s really going on.”

“What do you think is going on, Hel?” I sit on one of the benches and stare out at the jungle canopy that’s wild and vibrant in the mid-day sun.

There’s silence on the other end of the phone, and I can tell she’s trying to figure out where to start: my two boyfriends, my scandalous billboard, moving out.

“You were always …” Helena begins, choosing her words carefully, “a rebel, cut from your own cloth. This just seems …”

I don’t say anything, waiting to see what she’ll say next. I’m not going to bail Helena out of her discomfort. She had no problem rattling off insulting texts, but now her tongue is tied and I’m not helping unwind it.

“Extreme,” she says finally, but it’s punctuated by another silence. “We’re …I’mworried about you.”

“Why?”

“This is out of character for you.”

“Standing up for myself?” I ask. “Not letting Mom bulldoze me? Falling in love? Doing what’s best for my business? Did Mom even tell you about the awful contract she gave me to rent the land?”

“I’m sure it was very reasonable.”

“That’s not what my lawyer said.”

“That’s the point, Becca. You’re getting lawyers involved and—”

“Looking out for my own interests?” I interrupt. “Making sure me and my business don’t get screwed over—that’swhat you think is out of character?”

“It’s not just that, there’s also …”

She doesn’t say it. My relationship is too ghastly for her to voice out loud. So again, I wait. If she’s going to judge me, I’m not going to bail her out so she can be polite about it.

“Well, you know,” she mumbles. “You’re acting out with these … these two … Becca, I don’t see why you need to embarrass the family publicly. You’re very recognizable with your tattoos, which is half the reason you shouldn’t have gotten them in the first place. And advertising your business by—”

I want to scream.

She keeps talking, but I’m no longer listening.

“Helena,” I say, digging my fingernails into my palm. “I’m hanging up now. Please don’t call me back.”

I do just that, turning my phone off afterwards so she can’t continue to get inside my head. I turn to the jungle and just yell.

I roar. I scream. I wail.

Whatever needs to erupt out of me, I let spill into the giant leaves. I yell until my throat is hoarse and Archer’s arms are around me and I’m probably crying. All I know is I’m furious, and Archer’s chest is warm. It’s the safest place I can imagine being and I never want to be rid of him.

“Obviously, that was shit,” he says, stroking my hair softly. “I know things with your sister are strained, I was just hoping …”

“Yeah, me too,” I admit, feeling cracked open like an egg. I shouldn’t be surprised. Helena has never been on my side, but I foolishly hoped for once it might be different. Archer holds me for a long time, before I pull back and wipe my face. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ve been so narrow sighted lately that I completely forgot to ask you aboutyoursister.”

“My sister?” Archer’s face scrunches in confusion.

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