by Amanda Heath
“BeeBee,” I automatically correct.
“Pardon?” she says, finally resting her hands on her purse.
“Everyone calls my little sister BeeBee,” I tell her noticing the purse for the first time. While it is plain, I can tell it’s real leather, and the snaps are encrusted with diamonds. Whoa.
“I see. My older sister’s name is Beatrice. We call her BeeBee, too.” She smiles fondly, and I find I like it when she smiles. It’s better than that cold, bored face she has been wearing. “Anyway, I’ve come to collect you and BeeBee. My home is about five hours from here. I would like to get going so we can have you settled in at a decent time.”
I look at her and I squint my eyes. So she thinks she is going to come into my house and tell me how it is? I don’t think so. “Look lady, I’m perfectly fine staying here and taking care of BeeBee. I’ve been raising her since the day she was born. I will continue to raise her until she is grown.”
Then my “grandmother” squints back at me. “Look young lady, while I know you are in fact capable of taking care of BeeBee, you are still seventeen years old. You are still in high school. And you will continue to stay in high school. No grandchild of mine is going to drop out and get a job, just to raise her little sister when I’m here and can help you.”
I huff before getting up from the table. If I stay sitting there, I’ll punch her in her old face. “Look lady, I don’t want your help. I certainly didn’t want your help when I was starving to death because your daughter couldn’t remember to feed me. I also didn’t need it when the kids made fun of me at school because my clothes didn’t fit and had holes in them. Because your daughter didn’t care.” Her face gets more and more pale while I rant but I keep going. “I definitely didn’t need it when she started using heroin while she was pregnant with my little sister. Or when she stuck me with raising the same little sister.”
“Enough!” she shouts, making me jump. “I have spent the last sixteen years looking for you. Your mother and I had a falling out. I knew she wouldn’t be able to take care of you. But she changed her name and moved five hours away. I’ve been helpless and sick with worry over you since then.” Her breathing is labored and the color has returned to her cheeks. Only now her face is way redder than it should be. I hope I didn’t cause her to have a heart attack.
“Bullshit! She told me you wanted nothing to do with us. You think we are scum, not even worth the gum on the bottom of your shoe,” I scream, slamming my hands down on the table. She flinches but I don’t feel sorry. All she is telling me are lies.
She stands up from her chair and walks from the room. She returns a moment later with two police officers. “Ms. Vaughn, if you don’t go with your grandmother, you will be considered a runaway, and you will go to jail.”
So now I’m standing there with my mouth hanging to the floor and my eyes bugging out. I’m really starting to think I’m related to this woman. This is totally something I would pull.
My grandmother moves right in front of me. “Paisley, you will move with me and BeeBee. I have more than enough room for you at my house. Besides, I was going to offer you the guesthouse to live in. I figured you might like your own space, where you can learn to be a teenager, instead of your little sister’s mom. BeeBee will have the best care and a nanny to help take care of her when you or I cannot do it.”
I roll my eyes and head towards my room. I guess I better pack. I didn’t realize she followed me until she speaks while I’m packing a bag. “You need only bring the items that have sentimental value. I will provide you with clothes and uniforms for school. I will also provide you with a car to get to and from school.”
I can only blink and stare at the floor. I will not cry. I will not cry. Instead I take a deep breath and turn towards her. “I want a brand new 2013 black Camaro.”
She doesn’t even blink. “Done.”
***
“Who is that woman?” Carly asks under her breath so that the “woman” can’t hear her.
“My mom’s mom. She is taking us to live with her.” I pull her to a hug. I can tell grandma dearest is ready to get out of the ghetto. “I have to leave with her or she can take BeeBee away and have me arrested as a runaway. I have no choice. But I will call you or text you every day.” I pull her into another hug that I don’t want to let go of ever.
“I’m going to miss you. But I have Mark. I’ll be okay. I think it would be worse if it were me leaving. I have people and family who care about me. You don’t, not around here, anyway.” Then she whispers in my ear. “Give her hell, kid.” She kisses me on the cheek and I’m passed over to Derek. He gives me a bear hug and swears he is going to miss my lips. I slap him on the back of his head. Mr. Peters pats my shoulder and goes back to whatever it was he was doing. I just shake my head.
Ms. Summers is worse. She cries over BeeBee and me. This almost makes me cry, and I have to chant in my head the whole time I’m there. BeeBee doesn’t understand what’s going on, but apparently she likes Grandma. She babbles to her the entire drive to Grandmas house.
This woman has a driver. A freaking driver! This is insane. If I really get a Camaro out of this, I might start to believe she wasn’t lying. Hell, I know she wasn’t lying. My mom was more likely to lie than this woman.
I just hope believing her doesn’t blow up in my face.
Chapter 3
“WHO ARE ALL these people?” I whisper-yell to Grandma.
I fell asleep during the five-hour drive to her house. I didn’t realize we would have a welcoming committee. Nor did I realize I would be related to all of them. It’s hard to be taken from a place where only two people actually cared about me, to having this many family members. I think I might hurl.
“Your relations. Come. I’ll introduce you to everyone.” And then she is walking in front of me. We are standing in a large hallway, the people standing at the end of it. Doors are positioned throughout the walls and I can only imagine what they open up to. The floors are dark hardwood and they are polished to an amazing shine. The walls are a lovely shade of deep red. Pictures hang on the walls and as I start to pass them I realize they are all of the people in front of me.
BeeBee is fast asleep on Grandma’s shoulder. I was a bit ticked off that she wouldn’t come to me. She wanted her “Grammy”. I follow them down the hallway, my breathing getting more labored as I walk. But something stops me. There is a picture of me? No, that’s not right, this picture is old. Then it hits me. I look at the back of the woman in front of me and shake my head. If I was worried about being related to her before, I’m not now.
“Paisley? Come here, dear,” my grandmother says, pointing her head toward all the people standing in her home.
As I approach an older man sucks in his breath. He’s really tall with brown hair, salt and peppered at his temples. He looks to be about the age of grandma over there. He looks at me, then looks at her. His eyes are an intense brown. “She…” he seems to be speechless but I don’t blame him. All these people are wearing expensive clothes and their hair nicely put together. And here I am in all my rags and crazy hair.
“Yes, Henry,” she says. Her deep green eyes meet mine and I give her a puzzled look. She shakes her auburn and grey head before turning back towards the group. “Everyone, I would like you to meet Paisley Vaughn. She is Virginia’s oldest and this little angel is her youngest, Beatrice. Affectingly called BeeBee.”
I nod my head at everyone, wondering what the hell all these shocked faces are so shocked about. “Paisley, this is my husband and your grandfather, Henry.” She inclines her head to the speechless older man.
He steps forward and to the surprise of everyone, hugs me. “I apologize for my behavior, it’s just that you look like your grandmother when she was your age,” he says close to my ear. I don’t know what comes over me, because I don’t like to touch people I don’t know, but I wrap my arms around his waist and just let him hug me. It feels nice, and I’m pretty sure this is what it’s supposed
to feel like when your grandfather hugs you. He chuckles before letting me go.
Next up is a guy but he’s younger than Papaw. “This is your uncle Stanley. My oldest.” She smiles fondly at him. Stanley holds his hand out for me to shake. So I shake it and study him. He’s taller than Papaw and his hair is all brown, no grey. They also look exactly alike in the face. They even have the same intense, brown eyes.
“This is Rebecca, Stanley’s wife.” A tall, pretty blonde lady smiles down at me. She has very kind blue eyes. When I stop in front of her she hugs me, and I feel true affection in her arms. These people are generally happy to meet me. Weird.
“This is Brody, your oldest cousin, son to Stanley and Rebecca. He’s a few months older than you.” Now I’m standing in front of a young man. As tall as his dad, but with blonde hair like his mother’s. He also has her blue eyes, though his features are that of his father’s.
“Nice to finally meet you,” he states, taking my hand placing a kiss on it. Oh, so we have a flirt. When his blue eyes meet mine again, I wink. He lets my hand go and chuckles. “I think we’ll get along fine.”
“Stanley and Rebecca have two more, but as they are ten year old twins, they are asleep at the moment,” Grandma states before moving on to the next man. “This is Nathan, husband to Aria, my middle child.” A brunette man with green eyes makes up Nathan. He smiles fondly down at me and I return the smile.
Before grandma can introduce Aria, she pulls me into her arms. “I can’t express how happy I am right now,” she states, her voice cracking. She pulls away enough to place her hands on my shoulder to look at me. Her hair is long, curly and auburn. Just like mine, though she has the lighter green to her eyes like mom.
I nearly faint. I feel my legs get weak and I nearly buckle over by Aunt Aria has a tight hold on me. “I’m her twin.” Tears fill her eyes and it’s all I can do not to start bawling.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” I tell her softly, my eyes brimming with tears. How did my selfish, immoral mother come from these people?
“Right,” my grandma says before she gently takes me from Aria. I hear the same tears in her voice. Damn, why are we all so emotional? “This is Kellan, Nathan and Aria’s oldest.” I’m now standing in front of a gorgeous young man. More striking than Brody. His light green eyes meet mine and he shakes the hair out of them before reaching for my hand. He lightly shakes it, before letting it go. “He’s also a few months older than you.”
I look away from Kellan and back to Grandma. “They were all pregnant at the same time?” I question, feeling like I’m missing something. All she does is nod.
Since we have reached the end of the line, I feel insecure and out of place. Then grandma takes care of that. “Brody, Kellan, will you take your cousin out to the guest house? I promised her she could stay there.” They both turn their heads to look at each other, before nodding to Grandma.
Brody is by my side before I can even blink and links my arm around his elbow. “This way.” And then we are moving.
I’m taken through a huge kitchen with a center island featuring a sink. The counter tops are black granite. All the appliances are also black, even the fridge. There is also a dinning room table big enough for twenty people. Brody pulls me through a sliding glass door before we are outside. The air is nice tonight but I don’t get a chance to enjoy it.
We pass by a huge square pool, lounge chairs placed around it. We walk around the pool before we are in front of a smaller version of the house AKA mansion. The outside is painted a bright white that you wouldn’t be able to miss in the dark. The roof is black shingles and the front has the same pillars as the main house, but this one is only one story instead of two.
Kellan opens the door and I almost faint when we step inside. And not because of the furniture, which is very nice. One off white section couch rests against the north wall. There’s a beautiful hand carved coffee table with a bright white vase in the middle. A TV is placed where everyone on the couch can see it. The walls are the same off white as the couch.
No, I almost faint because of the guy standing in MY house. I’m not all that short, 5’6 but this guy has to be 6’5. I’m literally craning my neck up to see his beautiful face. There’s a quiet intensity about him. He holds himself like he has all this power under his skin that could explode at any minute. He is wearing a dark t-shirt and low-rise jeans. Though I’m pretty sure his are expensive. That face, though. Jesus. Beautiful dark brows highlight ice blue eyes that are currently staring holes into me. His nose is perfect, not too long, not too short. The end rounded a bit. His lips are wide and lush, perfect for kissing. A strong jaw offsets the rest of him, because he can’t be too pretty. His hair is black and spiked up messy in the front. “Who is she?” he sneers out.
Brody just laughs. “Your nightmare,” he says.
I look up at Brody to see pure joy across his face. Kellan even looks happy. “What the hell?” I say ripping my arm out from Brody’s.
Kellan looks over at me. “This is Channing Southerland. He lives a few houses down.” But that’s all I get.
Brody just laughs again and I find myself wanting to smack him. “So? Why is he in my house?” I walk past them all. It is seriously two o’clock in the morning; I’m ready for a bed. When I find the door that opens into a bedroom, I turn back around to the boys. “In fact, why don’t you all get out? I would like to sleep.”
They ignore me. “Miranda gave her the guest house? You’ve been begging for it since you were eleven,” Channing says in a quiet voice. It’s all smoke and fire.
“I know. I’m not even mad though. This is the best thing that has ever happened,” Brody says jumping up and down.
“Channing, you should have seen Grandfather’s face. I thought he was going faint,” Kellan says walking over to sit down on the couch.
I’m tired of standing, so I ignore them and walk into my bedroom. The floors are plush white carpet. The bed looks to be a queen size with a leather headboard and footboard. There is a chest of drawers against one wall and a longer one against the other wall. There’s a flat screen TV sitting on top of it. There are two doors, so I go and open them both. One is a huge walk-in closet and the other opens to a huge bathroom. I’m talking a huge porcelain claw foot tub, and a big shower stall. There’s his and her sinks, set in grey marble. Which matches the floor. Jesus.
“You’re telling me, that girl is the long lost heiress? The one every one has been looking for since before any of us could talk?” That’s Channing’s smoky voice coming in through my partially open bedroom door.
“Yes. I wouldn’t believe it either, but she looks just like Grandmother when she was that age,” Kellan tells him.
“Fuck,” Channing lets out, causing me to raise my eyebrows. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“Apparently, Aunt Virginia overdosed yesterday afternoon. I was there when Grandfather got the call. His entire face bleached white and he was gone before I could ask.” He pauses to sit down on the couch with Kellan. “Then while we were at the party, Mom calls and tells us to come here. And she was like ‘Get here quick Brody! I mean it’ so I knew she was serious.”
“Dad met me in the driveway and told me everything. That is the Paisley Vaughn everyone has been looking for.” Kellan takes over from Brody. “That’s your future bride.”
Chapter 4
I DIDN’T GET to question the boys about that last statement. Grandma popped into the guesthouse to make the boys leave and to make sure I had everything I needed. I proceeded to ask where BeeBee was, but she told me that my little sister was nice and comfy in the nursery.
I was sorry she couldn’t stay with me in the guesthouse, but I guess I need to learn how to not be her mom. She has people to take care of her now. I need to learn to be her big sister. She’ll need me to tell her which boys are cool to date or what kind of makeup to use.
I keep thinking if I tell myself enough times, I’ll start to remember I don’t need to raise her
anymore. It’s not working out so great.
There’s a knock on the door, which jumps me out of my thoughts. I quickly turn off the TV and answer. My elegant grandmother is standing there, looking flustered and nervous. “What’s up?” I ask her simply. I realize that we don’t know each other, but I seriously doubt she has anything to be worried about. I’m not really going to make her buy me a Camaro. I just knew that I didn’t have a choice; I had to come live here.
“Good morning, dear,” she says moving her arms behind her back. She’s wearing a simple pair of jeans, though I assume they are expensive. Her shirt is flowy and looks amazing on her. She might be a grandmother, but she is sure rocking it. “Can I come in?”
I open the door wider so she can pass. “Yeah. It’s your guesthouse,” I tell her, moving into the living room. I plant my butt down on the sectional and wait for whatever she needs to tell me. I just hope it’s not that they made a mistake, that we aren’t really related.
“Well, I might own the property, but I gave it to you. This is your space and I don’t want to intrude.” She finally moves to sit down on the couch, but she’s not close to me. She nervously puts her hands in her lap, and then bites her lip.
“Grandma, just spit it out. After finding my mother dead, and having to move five hours away, the ‘wow’ factor is gone. Nothing you can say will shock me.” I ramble. Even though I say she can’t shock me, I’m cautious anyway.
“You are very direct, Paisley. I find it refreshing. Most of the people in my life aren’t very direct.” She stops talking to stare off in space for a few moments. Now I’m getting fidgety, so I sit on my hands so I won’t ring them. “First I would like to say I may not have been completely truthful with you yesterday.” My eyes only blink at her. Really? Who could have seen this coming? “While you are my grandchild, through and through, you’re also the grandchild to one of my least favorite people.”