by Sosie Frost
Duchess joined my side. “I’ve already spoken with Regent and Contessa. We’re done waiting for you to fulfill your end of the bargain. You will always demand more renovations to the market. Waste all our money on buying their farm and endless pet projects to make the store bigger, better, flashier. You will lie to our faces and steal our trust fund and use it all for your own gain.” She shrugged. “So take it. Take every cent we had waiting for us. I would rather be free of that money than spend the next ten years suffering with you.”
“And what are you gonna do?” Duke asked.
“What we should have done years ago,” Duchess said. “We’re going to Ironfield to start our bakery.”
“With what money?”
My sister looked Duke in the eye and laughed just to spite him. “Does it matter? Loans. Whatever we can find stuck in the couch cushions. We’ll earn it from our own blood and sweat. We’re gonna work our asses off, open the bakery, and be rid of this goddamned market and ridiculous family before you ruin us too.”
I froze.
Duke didn’t.
He smirked. A very foolish, fatal mistake in the face of my most stubborn sister.
“You can’t do it without my help,” he said.
That wouldn’t stop her.
“I would hate to be a person who has to depend on you.” Her gaze slipped to me, and, for the first time in years, she let her guard down and wrapped me in a hug. “Get on that plane and get out of here, Ladybug. Go to Europe. Have a great trip. Just don’t you ever get stuck in Butterpond.”
Duchess already had the upper hand, but she raised a middle finger as well. She pulled me from the room, wished me goodnight, and returned to her own home to begin packing.
What the hell was I supposed to do?
I raced to the guesthouse and stumbled inside, frantically closing the windows and drawing the curtains. What a mistake. I longed for a fresh breeze to help me breathe. My feet crashed like stone upon the steps, and with a twinge of guilt, I locked my bedroom window.
Thank God I hadn’t told him yet.
All he needed was yet another secret to rock his family.
I knelt in front of my dresser and tossed away the meticulously sorted socks, folded panties, and stacked bras. The old slip lingered in the very back of the drawer. I pulled it out with trembling hands.
The answer hadn’t changed since the last time I checked. I couldn’t even pretend that I had misread it or that, over a span of a few days, it might have revealed a different truth.
But the little lines were as pink as the day I’d first taken it.
All my life, I’d planned for what adventures awaited the moment I left Butterpond. Now, that teeny tiny scribble on the test cemented the rest of my future.
How the hell was I supposed to leave Butterpond now that I was…
Pregnant?
16
Quint
Only in Butterpond was a fistfight inside the church not the evening’s most entertaining moment.
The monthly municipal meeting took a pause as Sheriff Samson escorted two of the council members from the sanctuary, breaking Varius’s only rule for loaning the chapel to the municipality while their offices underwent repairs on the sinkhole consuming the front lobby.
No fights.
He’d presumed it would be an easier rule to follow than no blasphemy.
I loved my brother, but the minister always had too much faith in the town. Especially when his kindness was exploited in a tremendously misfortunate double-booking of the church.
Tonight’s monthly municipal meeting—featuring the first of a scheduled twelve mayoral debates—had interrupted the much-anticipated preschool pageant—The Garden of Eatin’—One Bad Apple and Other Nutritious Fruits and Vegetables.
Which meant tonight’s proceedings were down two council members, but the rest had amassed a quorum with the inclusion of dozens of little kids dressed as tigers and bears, grapes and bananas. The pews and makeshift stage swarmed with preschoolers—some crying, most screaming, and a few dedicated child stars stealing the microphone intended for citizen comments.
Town business ground to a halt, though, fortunately, in the presence of God and a whole slew of costumed children, most of the townsfolk had skipped the moonshine pregame in the library basement and, for the first time, chose to attend a meeting sober.
…Couldn’t tell if they were more outraged or bored.
Usually, I lived for these meetings.
Tonight, I couldn’t dull the ache eating away at my guts.
I’d spent a good amount of time printing up bingo cards and bagging popcorn and candy for the events—a buck for a bag and a card, best bargain in Butterpond. I had a decent card too. Scratched off Arrest and Indecent Exposure from just one little fistfight. But even the prospect of a five-hundred-dollar bingo pot for the town’s biggest meeting of the year couldn’t silence the incessant doubt plaguing my mind.
Even my brother couldn’t ease that worry. Tidus had returned to town for the main event. Wasn’t always a good thing to bond over other people’s misfortune, but the meetings brought out the worst in government and the best in backyard insanity.
He’d saved me a seat in the front pew, dead center. Much to Honey’s chagrin and Varius’s irritation, he’d camped out the whole afternoon in those seats, ensuring we’d have the best view in the house for when Marius took to the stage for his first political debate. He hadn’t decided if we were to cheer him on or do our best to embarrass the shit out of him.
Fortunately, I had things under control. Even made Tidus proud when I’d revealed that I’d already stolen, and subsequently bedazzled Marius’s prosthetic leg with thousands of silver sequins.
If that didn’t prove I cared, nothing would.
Nothing except sacrificing everything I fucking loved to spare my family devastating heartache. But that burden was mine. They’d never need to know.
For the first time, I had a plan.
A solid plan.
And it would utterly destroy me to see it done.
Was this what it was like to be in love?
Who the hell could handle this torture? What sort of idiot would dream their days away longing to feel this goddamned helpless and miserable?
This shit wasn’t romantic. And it sure as hell wasn’t some medieval fairytale.
Love was agony. A painful, terrible realization of how lost and utterly lonely a man truly felt in this world. He couldn’t drink it away. Couldn’t hope that time would eventually dull the pain.
The only cure was the same as the punishment.
Her.
All I’d ever wanted in life was a quick score and a quicker goodbye. Instead, I’d been ensnared by a beautiful woman with a radiant smile, a perfect bubble butt, and a heart so big she could even care for me.
I’d been right to be terrified. I knew this moment would come.
What I’d need to do. The words I’d say. The pain I’d cause.
But I wasn’t prepared for the guilt. I’d acted like an ass, but I’d become an absolute monster. I’d manipulated her into bed and promised her that we could separate lust from love.
She’d taught me that was a lie.
And now she’d suffer for it.
The town crowded inside the church. The Barlows had taken a special seat of honor in the front as well, across the aisle with Mayor Desmond’s family. The rest of the town had followed suit. Those who supported the Paynes on the right, the Barlows the left. It wasn’t exactly Christian to self-segregate themselves, but it was very Butterpondian.
Lady and I had been unable to bring the people together as easily as gossip. Rumors had spread ever since our stint in jail.
Tidus knew the truth. Duke had already confronted me.
It was good that I planned to end it. After a while, a man couldn’t help the way he looked at a woman. Couldn’t hide how he longed to touch her. Forgot to stop smiling when he saw her.
We had two options. I might
have admitted it. Taken the woman in my arms before the entire town and confirmed every last suspicion.
But what good would that have done? All I had to offer was a fantastic night of fucking and a lot of trouble the next morning.
She deserved more.
I would never again feel this way for any woman.
But that wasn’t enough to keep her for my own.
Varius took to the pulpit to great applause once the congregation recognized that it was him in the stylish suit that Glory had no doubt picked out for him. Or maybe it was his smile that took people by surprise. It’d been years since he seemed so happy. He looked comfortable in the sanctuary—Bible in his hand, production script in the other, and one chubby-cheeked little girl wrapped around his right leg.
My brother had always been a great minister. What surprised us, especially after the disaster, was how good of a father he’d become. Lulu might’ve been Glory’s daughter, but the toddler was certainly Daddy’s little girl—a picturesque diva who occasionally had her bouts of stage fright. She hid her face in his slacks and bewitched the entire town.
I hadn’t forgotten Duke’s threat.
It’d taken years to convince V to return to the church, but it wasn’t my family who gave him the final push. That had all been Glory—her influence, her love, her little girl. Now, all three of them were together. Happier than ever. And the services became a lot less of a chore on Sunday morning.
It took a special sort of bastard to threaten V, but Duke’s arrogance would destroy the community. I had no idea what dirt, if any, he had on Glory or Varius, but I wasn’t about to give him the opportunity to hurt the ones I loved.
“Hey, everyone.” Varius called the church to order. “So, I talked with the sheriff. He’s going to let the council members have an…executive session in the drunk tank for a while. And once they’re more cooperative and a bit more sober, we’ll resume the meeting. In the meantime, Mayor Desmond won the coin toss, so we’ll have the debates before the pageant.”
The crowd booed. Varius shushed them.
“It’s all right. Gives us a little more time to set up. Moms, now is the time to ensure your preschooler has gone to the potty. Last thing we need is a repeat of the Easter show with any nugget of…forbidden fruit in anyone’s looms.”
A woman in the back of the church stood. “And that goes double for you, Frank Wilcox!”
A man groaned. “One time, Rita. It was one time!”
A few mothers peeled themselves from their conversations to check on their kids. Cassi kissed Rem, but I caught her before she crept out of the aisle.
“You remember what I told you?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Cassi shot an evil glance towards the Barlows. “And they’re lucky we’re in a church.”
“Just be ready in case Desmond tries something stupid.”
She patted my arm. “Anything for Marius.”
Last thing I’d wanted to do was involve my little sister in any of the dirty dealings I had with Duke, but she’d been my only eyes and ears backstage at the pageant as she helped Glory with the kiddos. Figured it was worth part of the truth—that Duke planned to sabotage Marius’s chances.
The Navy SEAL didn’t need a five-foot tall firecracker to defend him.
But he sure as hell wouldn’t chase her away.
Even as he slapped me in the head as he made his way to the stage—his prosthetic leg glittering between the cuff of his slacks and the heel of his shoes.
Probably deserved that, but at least he’d look stylish and not homicidal as he was forced to debate.
“Hi there!” Mayor Desmond stood in the center of the church and welcomed applause that wasn’t directed for him. “Thank you all so much for coming.”
The mayor was the sort of asshole who thought too highly of himself to relinquish his position. And he fit the bill for a lifelong politician. Slimy smile. Fake excitement as he pointed to people in the audience with an exaggerated greeting. He made a point of hopping the last step to the platform, landing hard on both feet just to ensure the mic picked up the echo.
Like Butterpond would only vote for a mayor with two legs.
Gretchen had stuffed Marius into a suit, but his muscles threatened to blow out the seams. He’d put on weight since returning from the SEALs, but he’d packed it on as muscle. He’d lost his leg, so he’d focused on ensuring the rest of him was built to perfection. I admired that. Instead of mourning his previous job and the injuries that had landed him in countless surgeries, he’d fallen in love and made a baby.
Pretty decent trade.
Desmond took the microphone first, and I preemptively marked the square I’d written specifically for the mayoral debate. Attack on Marius’s character. Pretty tough to do when the war veteran gave his girlfriend and baby a kiss for luck and earned the adoration of the town.
“I wanted to welcome everyone here personally.” Desmond kicked away the scenery that encroached on the pulpit, brushing aside a fake coil of ivy snaking along the microphone. “You know. In the last few months, I’ve learned something special about myself and this town. I learned about honor. Tradition. The values that make this town special.”
Marius didn’t have a podium of his own. He leaned against a papier mâché tree and accidentally ripped the serpent from its branches. While God had warred against the Devil for eons, Marius cast the snake from the garden with an irritated throw. This earned the cheers from the pews which Desmond mistook for his own support.
“I’ve learned this town is built on hard work, good friendships, and clean living,” Desmond said. “That’s why, if I’m elected mayor, I will ensure Butterpond grows with new business, new residential developments, and a commitment to keeping this town safe from all vices. Butterpond will remain dry!”
The proposition was met with a cascade of boos, hisses, and a few words that had no place in a municipal office, let alone the church. Marius rolled his eyes, which, while not politically correct, polled better than rebutting with a middle finger.
Marius grabbed the microphone and edged Desmond out of his way with a bump of his broad shoulders.
“None of us want to be here—and I don’t know anyone crazy enough to care about eleven more debates.” Marius grumbled as Gretchen urged him to project and smile from the pews. “I’m not gonna waste your time. I’m against everything he stands for. Thank you. Goodnight.”
It was Gretchen’s hissed command that prevented Marius from escaping back to the audience. He grimaced and returned to the microphone.
“We’ve got a church full of people here to see their kids dance in some weird costumes,” he said. “Why the hell would they want to listen to this bast—yahoo speak?”
This earned another round of vigorous applause.
Mayor Desmond wasn’t as impressed. “Yet again, Mr. Payne, you insult this office and every democratic tradition it stands for.”
“I think that’s a good thing,” Marius said.
Desmond called to the audience. “Can you imagine this man on election day? Don’t bother voting. Nobody has time for that. I’ll just seize control of the town.”
Marius shrugged. “Would be easier than dealing with you every damned day from now until November.”
The mayor waved a hand. “There you have it. I’d never accuse a Navy SEAL of being afraid of doing a little hard work, but is this the man you’d want representing Butterpond? I have all that I could do to represent our interests and values, and I have done it thanklessly. But if you all prefer this man, a scoundrel more eager to pad his pockets with our tax dollars than to spend twenty minutes in policy debate, then you can make your decision at the polls.”
Marius frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Desmond addressed the meeting. “As your mayor, I have worked tirelessly to ensure every penny of your tax dollars are used appropriately. And in being so devoted to this town, I’ve had to make some hard decisions...especially when I’ve uncovered so much
corruption.”
“Corruption where?” Marius asked.
“Why, corruption within the office of the animal control officer.”
The crowd gasped. My family took to their feet, but I remained seated. No sense getting so upset while I had everything in hand. I marked off my bingo spot—accusations of impropriety—and settled in for the show.
But not before winking towards a very eager Duke Barlow.
Desmond had miscalculated his revelation. Accusing a new mother of corruption while she held a sleeping baby to her chest? Very bad optics. Especially as Gretchen was so loved within Butterpond. She stared in shock, eyes wide, shaking her head so vigorously her twin puffball pigtails bounced.
“What are you talking about?” Gretchen whispered so as not to wake Claudia. “Just what do you think I’ve done?”
Desmond didn’t flinch. “It’s come to my attention that our animal control officer and sole member of the Butterpond Geese Police is the root cause of our dastardly geese problem. This plague of geese has been exacerbated by the very same officer we pay to keep our sidewalks and fountains free of the villainous fowl!”
The mayor didn’t have a chance to grandstand.
A half dozen preschoolers bounded onto the stage.
All dressed as ducks.
The pageant spilled into the municipal meeting, and the church filled with the waddling, clucking, quacking cacophony brimming from a handful of preschoolers who had been fed all the candy I could easily swipe from the farm and then left to sit in quiet time for an hour and a half while waiting for the show to begin.
Even by Butterpond’s standards, this was chaos.
The children launched themselves across the church, climbing scenery, stealing props, and accidentally unlocking the door to the anteroom which had been housing the centerpiece for the Garden of Eatin’…
One very ugly, hairless alpaca in an absolutely adorable floral printed dress.