Yeah, right. She knew her sister. Carla could take all day in a shower if allowed. And Neva had to pee. “You have five,” she called out, heading to her bedroom to locate fresh panties and her one clean pair of jeans.
Six minutes later, after discovering Carla had borrowed her only clean pair of jeans and was still in the shower, she’d had enough. She stomped out to the garage and twisted the valve to the hot water heater. Then she stomped back inside to wait, standing in front of the bathroom door with arms folded, tapping her toe.
Soon, a loud squeal sounded from the bathroom. The water shut off, and a few seconds later, a towel-clad and dripping Carla flung open the door. “Did you turn off the hot water?” Carla exclaimed.
Neva shoved past. “I said five minutes. I was generous—I gave you six.” She shoved her shorts and panties down, sat, and tried to toe the door shut, but her sister blocked it. “A little privacy, please?”
“You are such a brat,” Carla snapped out, not bothering to shut the door.
“Don’t borrow my clothes without asking.”
“I’m sorry. But it was a pair of jeans. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Turn your back!” When Carla did, Neva finished up and came back into the hall, murmuring, “I mind. I always did mind.”
Carla snorted. “Since when did I ever borrow your clothes?”
“Are you serious? Do you not remember the time you borrowed the dress I was going to wear to Junior Prom? The electric blue one with the black lace inset? You ‘borrowed’ it to wear in one of your stupid pageants, where you spilled bubble-gum pink fingernail polish down the front. It was ruined.”
“Mom thought I looked good in that dress. She told me to wear to the pageant.”
Anger wove a dark web inside Neva. “Everything was always about you. About how you looked, what crown you might win, which pageants would put you ahead of the other girls. Did you ever think of me? What what I wanted? What I was going through?”
“I apologized for ruining your dress. I gave you my own dress to wear to prom, didn’t I?”
Neva scoffed. “I hated that dress.”
Carla’s eyes filled with tears. “Well,” she whispered, “I didn’t. It was my favorite. I saved up my own money and bought it on my own, without Mom’s input. I couldn’t wait to go to the prom in that dress. And then you got to wear it. Not me.”
“That makes no sense. If it was your favorite, why did you give it to me to wear?”
Carla cleared her throat and tightened her grip on the towel she held around her. She thrust her chin up in the air and looked off in the distance. For a moment, she didn’t speak, the silence stretching thin between them.
“Carla? Did you hear me?”
Finally, her sister responded. “Mom made me give it to you. She said she thought the emerald green was too sallow on my skin. She didn’t want me to look ugly, she said.”
“But we’re identical. So if she thought that dress made you look ugly, then that meant she thought…”
Carla caught her gaze. “Yeah,” she said, laughing harshly. “Mom thought the dress with look bad on you, too. But she was willing to make you the sacrificial lamb.”
Neva had gone to Junior Prom with Peter as a “friend date.” He’d told her repeatedly how beautiful she was. How the green in the dress brought out gold flakes in her eyes. Carla had gone without a date and, and had seemed miserable the entire dance, hanging out with her friends. Neva had thought she was pouting because she didn’t have enough attention. Now, though? Now Carla’s attitude made more sense. She’d been hurting.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“For what?”
“Mom screwed you over. She screwed me over. You should have been able to wear the dress you loved, and so should I.”
“I don’t get why she acted the way she did. I guess she just wanted what was best for us. They both did, right?” Carla gazed at Neva, a hopeful question in her eyes. But then the light died and Carla’s eyes grew cold.
Neva knew her sister was close to understanding the truth.
A soft sigh escaped out of Neva’s mouth, surprising her. What Peter said made sense—her parents had done a number on her and her sister. They’d used the twins, pitted one sister against the other in their own screwed up manipulation games. But Neva didn’t want to disappoint her sister. Not now.
“They tried,” she said. She figured that wasn’t much of a lie—their parents had tried, but not to be good parents. No, they’d tried to get one another. Needle each other. Always in a constant battle of one-up-manship. And in the end, neither had won. “I’m also sorry I turned off the hot water. That was mean.”
“I’m the one who should apologize,” Carla said quickly. “I’m sure you had your reasons for asking me not to use too much hot water. Are you trying to save money on your utility bills? I have cash—I could give you some if you’re low on funds because of the big property purchase.”
Neva didn’t want to know how her twin had come about a wad of cash. But the tenuous détente that existed between them was too valuable to break right now. Time to switch the subject.
“I’m going out with Peter tonight,” she confessed.
Carla’s concerned expression switched to one of excitement. “It’s about time!”
Neva grinned. “I agree. I understand you have something to do with that. Thanks.”
“I take it he confessed his grand plan to you.”
“Seemed a bit elaborate of a plot to convince me he didn’t want you any longer.”
“You know I’m not interested in him, right? And you’re convinced now that he doesn’t have a thing for me, right?”
Neva took a beat before answering. “It’s like I want to believe—”
“But you’re having a hard time trusting your own judgment. I understand that better than you know.” Carla looked down at the floor and exclaimed, “Oh gosh. My hair is dripping all over the place. Here, follow me so I can put some clothes on.”
In the guest room, Neva sat down on the bed and watched as Carla unzipped an expensive looking travel suitcase and then pulled out a pair of lace panties and a bra probably cost way more than a night of ribs out at the Goldpan Pub. As Carla slipped a sundress over her head, Neva noted the designer label.
“How do you afford all of this nice stuff if you’re broke?” Before her sister could answer, Neva quickly added, “Never mind. What you earn and how you earn it is your own business. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“But only because you’re judging.” Carla’s words were serious but her tone was light.
Neva flicked her gaze over her sister. Carla buttoned up her sundress, head cocked to the side, watching Neva with a gentle expression.
Neva cleared her throat. “Yes, I was judging.”
“And you’re dying to know if your judgement is correct. But you’re trying to be a good sister by not asking.”
Neva was relieved to see a smile on her sister’s face. She smiled back and guiltily tipped her head. “You caught me.”
Carla finished setting her dress straight, then came and sat on the bed next to Neva, their shoulders touching. They hadn’t been this close since that fateful weekend when Carla had come to meet Neva’s fiancé.
“Would you believe me if I told you I owned a highly—and I mean highly—successful marketing company?”
A laugh burst out of Neva’s mouth, but realized the expression Carla wore was serious. She sobered. “Really?”
Carla nodded.
Shock hit Neva hard. “But how? I mean, I always figured you’d dropped out of college.”
“Nope. I took heavy loads each semester and summer courses and graduated early, and with a 4.0 GPA, I’ll add,” Carla said proudly.
“How did you end up owning a company?”
“Because of the beauty pageants, I discovered the power of having a presence on social media. So I went with it. I love computers and being online, and I started marketing for a few frien
ds who had beauty businesses. Pretty soon, I built a reputation. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“So that’s your Lexus outside.”
Carla grinned.
“Why did you pretend you didn’t have a car when you showed up? And where’d you stash a Lexus in this town?”
“I found an alley behind the bus station and left it there. As for why I didn’t—”
“Wait.” Neva held up a hand, focused on something her sister had said. “So if you graduated a year early, that means you’d already started your business when you came to meet Joel.”
“That’s right,” Carla said. “I’d made a hundred grand in the first six months, profit.”
Neva glanced down at the rain on her finger, the one she was twirling absently, the way she always did. “That’s when you bought us the rings. I always wondered how you’d been able to afford real emeralds.”
Carla reached over and took Neva’s hand in hers, entwining their fingers together. The rings touched. “I couldn’t wait to tell you about my company. I was so excited. I wanted it to be a surprise, you know? I was making something of myself, all on my own. Which was hard for even me to believe, especially after the way Mom and Dad treated me. Neither of them thought I would do anything other than marrying rich man, but I’d proved them wrong. I knew you thought the same, so I wanted to prove you wrong, too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were such a success right away?”
Carla shrugged. “Vanity. Ego. And a bit of drama to, I suppose. I wanted you to wonder for a few days—then I was going to spring on you right as I left. You know, make a big, grand exit and leave you behind in a cloud of Shalimar and success.”
The past hung in the air between them, heavy, thick, full of angry, swarming energy.
“I’m sorry,” Neva said, hollowly. “I judged you. Pigeonholed you the way Mom and Dad did. I’m glad you set me straight.”
Carla cleared her throat. “There’s more I want to share with you, but I think we need to get you ready for your date with Peter right now.”
“More? But we should talk. I mean, it’s obvious you aren’t here because you’re broke. I want to know everything.”
Carla gave her a haunting smile. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. I promise. But not right now.”
“Why not?”
“Peter assured me you’d understand, but I have still have things inside of me I need to work out. And—” Carla bit her lip, and then flashed a quick smile that didn’t quite seem true. “I’m almost there, sis. But let me get there on my own time.”
Whatever Carla wanted to confess to Neva, whatever truth it was she wanted to tell, could wait until she was ready. Neva would wait. She was done rejecting her sister.
“Will you help me with my hair? And make-up? I think I have a tube of mascara that’s about as old as a preschooler.”
“You’re beautiful as you are. You don’t need makeup, but I’ll definitely help you with your hair. First off, remove the chicken feathers.”
Neva raised a hand to her head. She touched something soft and fluffy. “Oh, god,” she murmured. She removed the bit of chicken down from her hair and looked back up at her sister, smiling. “He calls me Farmer Girl, you know.”
Carly collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles. “The beauty queen and the farmer girl. Oh my gosh, that is so us. So totally perfect.”
Neva grinned. Because really, it was.
Totally perfect.
Peter was experiencing a certain regret over his choice in where to take Neva for dinner. Maybe he should have picked up a platter of ribs and fed a naked Neva in the privacy of his own bedroom, far from his friends and neighbors. He’d promised her ribs from the Goldpan Pub, but hadn’t explained those ribs would be served at yet another community gathering.
But he wanted to be sure Neva was settled in Meadowview before he left town. She’d struggled to fit in during high school—so had he, but he’d gotten over that. But Neva had stayed bothered by the public rejection, even though she’d put up a good front and pretended it didn’t matter that her twin was the popular one.
High school was long gone and Neva’s skin had grown thicker, but still it would make him feel better if Neva felt fully ensconced in her new community before he hightailed it out of Meadowview.
“This wasn’t what I was expecting when you said we were going out to dinner,” Neva said nervously, tucked in against Peter’s side and gazing around the crowded Meadowview Grange.
When he’d arrived at Neva’s to pick her up for their date, Carla had been at the door. She greeted him warmly and explained her sister was still getting ready, then muttered something about chicken feathers and a lack of jeans and no hot water under her breath. He’d asked Carla if she wanted to join them—and explained what the date really was—but she passed. She wanted to take the time to video-chat with her sweetheart, out of Neva’s sight.
Peter was shocked Carla hadn’t yet told her sister the real reason she’d shown up in Meadowview, but Carla had promised she was close to sharing—really close. She wanted more time, was all. He understood wanting more time. For him, the clock was ticking.
Earlier in the day, he’d missed yet another call from Maude. He’d checked his email account, but saw nothing new from his aunt. He was still on schedule to pick her up at the Meadowview bus station in twelve days. Whatever it was she wanted to share with him must not be that important, he figured, if she wasn’t bothering to let him know via email. Damn the woman and her insistence on not texting.
Who didn’t text in this day and age?
Even his father texted, although usually Peter deleted the texts without responding.
“I know it’s a little overwhelming, but this is a great way for you to meet more of your community,” he told Neva as he placed an ear of corn on her plate. They scooted down the line at the buffet table, which sagged in the middle under the weight of the food provided by the Goldpan Pub. The scent of barbeque sauce made Peter’s mouth water. Or maybe it was Neva.
Had to be Neva.
“How big is Meadowview’s population anyway?” she asked.
“Big enough,” he said cheerfully. “We’ll eat first, then I’ll take you around the room and introduce you to people you haven’t yet met.”
“Oh, my,” she murmured, glancing around the crowded room.
The building had once been a barn on the outskirts of town. In the 1960s, the local Grange bought the barn and refurbished it, adding in bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining hall and a large wooden dance pad with a raised dais in the corner. Now, the same band that had performed at the Community Center during the Welcome to Meadowview Party was on the dais, playing a slightly Celtic version of Bob Marley’s No Woman.
The door burst open, letting in a burst of cool evening air and a laughing Trudy, along with her friends Sadie, Lia, and Chessie. Trudy noticed Peter and Neva from across the crowd and gave a friendly wave.
Neva’s grip on his hand tightened and she scooched in closer to him, almost elbowing him in the ribs. “Seriously, Peter, this is a bit much…”
“Just go with it, Farmer Girl,” Peter murmured in her ear. He handed her a hefty plate filled with corn on the cob, ribs, a kale salad, and a corn muffin.
Neva pointed to the reddish-brown bits in the muffin. “What’s that?”
“Bacon. From what I hear, Delilah’s going in a different direction. Bacon and corn muffins instead of bacon and maple.” He sidestepped an older man twirled a young woman out onto the dance floor in a set of intricate steps.
“Didn’t realize one could jig to reggae, but I guess in Meadowview, anything goes.” A man’s voice caught his attention.
Peter looked up to see Jack Gibson and Remy Toussaint standing in front of him. Quickly, he introduced the two men to the lovely woman at his side, pride filling him when she warmly greeted both men. “I’ll find us a table,” he murmured against Neva’s hair. “Might take me a minute or two, but hang here. I’ll be back.�
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He located a semi-private table for two in a back corner and placed the two plates down. Before he could fetch Neva, Miss Clara and Miss Ethel, friends of Maude’s and two of Meadowview’s local legends (rumors existed about one or the other being arrested in Berkeley during a Viet Nam War protest) and friends of Maude’s, cornered him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to keep his attention politely in the women as he also scanned the room for Neva, who’d disappeared in the crowd. Something Miss Ethel asked drove his attention back to the ladies in front of him.
“Sorry,” he said. “Could you repeat that?”
“What do you think of your aunt’s big surprise?” Miss Ethel asked.
He blinked. He knew of no surprise. Maude hadn’t said anything in her last email. If something was going on, why wouldn’t she simply text him? “What should I think?”
Miss Clara chuckled. “That she’s one lucky woman. But he’s an even luckier man.”
“He who?” Peter asked.
Miss Ethel raised her eyebrows at Miss Clara. “I don’t think Peter’s in the know yet.”
“About what? What don’t I know? What’s going on with Maude?” He frowned at both women. “Why are you two giggling?”
Miss Ethel whispered something in Miss Clara’s ear, then prodded her friend forward. Miss Clara gave Peter a small wave and a big smile as she walked away.
Peter shook his head. This town took too much energy at times. He headed back to collect his date, who’d apparently been swallowed up by the crowd. What he saw when the crowd parted was a complete shock. What the hell was his aunt doing back in Meadowview? And who was the older man next to her—the one standing with his arm protectively wrapped around Maude’s shoulder? And why was the man wearing a wedding ring?
Why was Maude wearing a wedding ring?
Peter stormed forward. Someone had some explaining to do.
Why did Peter look like he was about to explode? Neva nibbled her lower lip, uncertainty infusing her as Peter came closer, his scowl growing darker with each step. He didn’t bother looking at her—just glared at his aunt and the woman’s new husband.
Charming the One: (Meadowview Heroes # 3) (The Meadowview Series Book 7) Page 17