Page 63 of Wild Flower

I point to the fact that Helena was most definitely lurking after I kicked her out. She swallows hard and her pink lips draw into a line. Yup, I’ve completely called her out on it.

“At least you weren’t her mom, right?” I joke, taking too much pleasure in the fact that Helena looks like she might have a stroke. “Her mom is already not a huge fan of me.”

“I wonder why,” Helena manages to squeak out.

“It’s always hard for parents to realize their baby girl is a sexual, adult woman,” I continue, not letting up. “You can probably relate, being the older sister who had to forge this path first, right?”

Helena glares at me, and if her husband—who I’ve yet to meet—were standing here, he’d probably punch me in the face. I swear there’s a stick twisted so far up Helena’s butt, she might explode if anyone touched it.

The door behind me unlatches and a second later, Becca comes out in a cute black dress with capped, lace sleeves and buttons up to her neck. It has a strong Wednesday Adams vibe, only Becca comes with tattoos and silver hair.

“Hi,” Becca says, looking between us suspiciously. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Elephants,” I say, and both girls look at me confused. Hello? The proverbial elephant in the room known as the older sister who’s possibly never had sex with her husband and couldn’t believe she walked in on her younger sister half-naked.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t even catch your name,” Helena says to me with faux politeness.

I almost laugh. She’s seen me ready to go down on her sister, but names … who needs that?

“Archer.” I extend my hand again, which she doesn’t take a second time. “Archer Kaine.”

“Are you doing this to piss Mom off again?” Helena asks her sister, even though I’m standing right here. “Because it’s getting old.”

“Old?” I ask, garnering me a frown.

“I’m sure you’re lovely, Archer,” Helena says, having found her tongue and the condescension to drip from it. “But Becca’s been acting out since she was a teenager, and—”

“Acting out?” I bristle, laying on the faux innocence. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Well,” Helena huffs. “If that little stunt in there was any indication—”

“What little stunt?” I interrupt. “You mean the fact thatyoubarged into a private residence and interrupted something intimate between your sister and her boyfriend?” Helena nervously rubs the side of her neck, her posture turning rigid. “Cause that’s not really a stunt.You’rethe one who was trespassing.”

“I didn’t meanthat,per se,” she backtracks. “I’ve just known Becca longer than you have and—”

“She’s fucking marvelous, don’t you think?” I say, watching Helena flinch as I swear. “She owns her own business. She’s disciplined enough to get the most exotic of plants to flourish. Hell, she has enough tattoos to withstand more pain than all of us combined. And if that wasn’t impressive enough, she’s so hot, I can’t keep my hands off her—not that you’d relate to that last one. But you ought to give her some mad-props for the rest of it.”

Helena gives Becca a dirty look, and I point to it and call her out. “Nope.” I shake my head. “I’ve got a sister, too. I’ve seen that look before. And the last thing you should be upset about is your sister’s new boyfriend complimenting her and talking about how awesome she is. Unless, you think she should be dating some asshole who’d make her quit what she loves, hide all her tattoos, and treat her like an object on his arm. Cause that’s some pedestrian, anti-feminist bullshit.”

Helena’s mouth gobs open and closed like she’s got a thousand things she wants to say, but none of them will come out without making her look like a self-righteous Karen.

“Right.” I nod my head. “Because you’d never want that for your sister. She deserves nothing but goodwill and respect. I knew you’d have your sister’s back.”

I take Becca’s hand and walk us past her sister. Seems the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. And from what I can tell, Becca’s family seems determined to pull out every weed—including her.

35

BECCA

The rest of the evening goes just as poorly as I imagined. Mom and Dad pepper Archer with a thousand questions: jobs, ambitions, family, financials. You’d think he was on a job interview. I almost mention the giant mansion Archer lives in to get them off his back, but before I have a chance Archer shuts them up by mentioning both of his parents died in a car crash when he was nineteen.

Talk about adulting, and fast!

I wrap my arms around him at that confession, and amazingly my mother softens. There’s nothing like pointing out how the universe has torn your heart out to get my mother to stop evaluating if you’re worthy of membership at her country club.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” my mother says, giving her condolences.

“Becca’s lucky to have both of you still around,” Archer says, which wins him a nod from them. But the word lucky sits wrong in my mouth. I love my parents. I’d be devastated if anything happened to them. I just wish things wereeasier. I wish there wasn’t a contract to sign or unwritten rules on who I should be.

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