Dad pulls back and frowns. “We should get going if we want to make it to Granny’s before dark.”
I nod. “Okay. I’ll be right down.”
As I watch Dad leave my room for the very last time, I think about how much has changed between us over the past couple of months.
Dad’s always been the more nurturing parent, so I’m glad he’s the one here to comfort me. He may not say much—less is more with him—but I know he’s always there for me, which is why, right now, I need to be there for him. It’s safe to say we won’t be having an emotional therapy session during our drive to Granny’s because we’ve already had enough talks about the situation. We’ve become really close the last couple of months. He used to be one of those stereotypical workaholic guys before he lost his CFO job at McMullen’s Candy. I think he feels bad about not being around all those years, because lately he’s been trying pretty hard to spend all his time with me. I think he feels responsible for Mom leaving, but he shouldn’t take the blame for her walking out. That was her choice.
When I called Granny a couple months ago to report the news that Mom had left, she just laughed.
“That’s total bullshit,” Granny huffed with her twangy accent. “Your momma left because she’s a gold digger. Plain and simple. I tried to tell Tuck that before he ran off with the little floozy, but no, he didn’t listen. It was just a matter of time before this would happen. Hell, she probably ran around on your daddy long before he lost all his money.”
I love that about Granny. She’s the most real, in-your-face person I know. If you ever want an honest answer, just ask good old Granny. She’ll tell you the truth, whether you really want to hear it or not. I spend more time on the phone with her, telling her all about my life, than anyone else. Of course, I always have to leave some stuff out. It’s embarrassing to talk sex with your grandma. I’m definitely not going to tell Granny anything about that. The last thing I need is for her to get it in her head that I’m anything like my mother, willing to sleep with guys for money.
I pat the door frame of my room and sigh as I turn and leave it behind. Outside I spot Dad latching the trailer door shut on the U-Haul that’s hooked up to a rigged hitch on the back of our expensive Mercedes. It looks completely ridiculous, but Dad says it is the only way to haul the little stuff we have left.
It’s clear it’s time to go. I look around and silently say my good-byes while sadness slithers through me.
I can’t say I’m surprised that my Kappa Kappa Gamma sisters aren’t here to see me off. I’d be kidding myself if I thought any of them were actually that close with me. Shit, they wouldn’t have even let me in if I wasn’t a legacy and Mom hadn’t sent me to Lars—her personal trainer—to whip my ass into shape, after high school ended.
At the time, I hated her for it. She just took my hatred in stride, told me it was for my own good, and someday I would thank her for it.
I can’t believe it, but she was right. Being pretty does have its advantages. I’m glad she made me over, got me to lose a ton of weight. I was getting pretty tired of getting pushed around by the in crowd during high school. I was their doormat. But things changed for me. After I dropped the braces and lost the weight, I started a new chapter in life—college. I’d never been on a date until I became a Gamma.
Sasha and Rosemary were the first Gammas to befriend me. I know they were only my friends out of their own selfish greed. It’s easier to get attention from boys when you have pretty sidekicks, and Sasha made sure that I knew that’s why she kept me around—because she said guys think I’m hot. She was my friend out of convenience, so I definitely won’t miss her.
It’s just sad knowing that I don’t have one real friend in my life.
“Wake up, kiddo,” Dad says, while shaking my shoulder a little. “We’re almost there.”
During a big yawn, I strain my eyes against the glaring sun that stings my sleepy eyeballs. As far as I can see, there’s nothing but grass and trees. Everything is so damn green here and there’s no sign of concrete anywhere.
It’s been ages since I’ve been to visit Granny thanks to Mom, and I forgot how far away from everything she lives.
Every now and then, we pass a tiny little house or a trailer parked up on some hillside, and I can’t help but notice how different this place is compared to my life in the city.
It reminds me of the setting for a random, cheesy horror flick. It makes me think that if we do break down, some deformed hillbilly will probably drag us into a dilapidated shack and eat us alive—just like what happened to those kids in Wrong Turn.
“Almost there,” Dad mumbles as he turns down a narrow road.
The worried expression that he tries to hide every time he catches me looking at him hasn’t changed much on the ride here. I think he’s dreading living with Granny just as much as I am but he’s trying to put on a good face. It’s been a while since they talked, so I’m sure this is going to be completely awkward for him.
We drive under canopies of big leafy trees, and Dad looks up and smiles like he’s reliving some pleasant childhood memory. I haven’t seen him smile lately. Really smile, I mean. I can tell Mom leaving hurt more then he leads on, even if he doesn’t talk about her much anymore. He turns the air conditioning off as he holds down the little switchy-ma-bob for the windows, allowing the spring air to wrap around us.
He inhales deeply through his nose. “I almost forgot what air smells like without the pollution of city life in it.”
I follow his lead and suck in a huge breath. Huh, the air does feel crisper here. I never really got that old saying before, “Get out and get some fresh air,” but now it’s quite clear. I wonder if pollution really does make the air different in the city, or if I am just delusional from the drive.
We creep along the road and then leisurely turn onto a vaguely familiar gravel lane. I’ve forgotten just how far off the road Granny’s house sits. The grass soars on each side of the car and I roll my window down and stick my hand out, allowing the weeds to tickle my hand as we drive along. This yard is really overgrown and looks nothing like I remember. Granny always took a lot of pride in her yard, but it’s obvious that she needs a little help around here. I’m sure it’s not so easy for her to take care of this place all by herself. It’s been nearly five years since my papaw passed away, and even though Granny acts way younger than her sixty-five years, I still worry about how much time I have left with her.
The house comes into view through the thick trees that create a natural privacy fence around the front of the property, and it’s a lot smaller than I remember. A little, white, two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch stands before me—nothing fancy, just a modest home that appears warm and inviting. It’s definitely a far cry from the lavish home we just left behind.
I can’t believe this is my home now. What a culture shock. There’s no way the three of us will be able to live in this small space together and not feel like we’re crowding one another.
Dad pulls the SUV up close to the house, and it doesn’t take long for Granny to come rushing out the screen door. She looks just like the picture of her I used to keep tacked to my bedroom mirror to remind me of what she looked like. Granny hasn’t changed a bit. She’s still short and cuddly, and wears her faded blue jeans that remind me of the eighties day we used to have back in school. The only thing that’s changed is her hair, which has a little more gray in it.
Granny barrels toward the car, and there’s no time to get out of the way, only time to prepare for one of her notorious bear hugs.
She doesn’t even give me time to get out of the car before she whips open the door and wraps her arms around me.
If you ever get a hug from my Granny, be prepared to just about have the life squeezed out of you.
“Oh honey, look at how pretty you are. You were pretty before, but now . . . I bet your daddy has to beat them boys off with a big stick. I’m just so happy to see you,” she coos in my ear as she hugs me tight.
>
I smile at her and squeeze her back. “I’ve missed you so much!”
Last time I saw Granny in person, I was about fifty pounds heavier and hadn’t been put through Mom’s beauty boot camp. Back then, I could never get a boy to look my way, but now . . . I’ve heard guys refer to me as hot. Things have changed so much since then.
Granny hasn’t seen me since I overhauled my appearance. I should’ve taken it upon myself to come see her. I’ve been a little selfish over the past couple of years, but I want to change all that. I want to start caring more about others.
Dad opens his door and stretches on the other side of the car. Granny sees her opportunity to hug him and takes off after him. It’s nice to see them embrace because they haven’t seen each other in years.
Last time Dad was here, Mom was with him, and Granny didn’t have a problem telling Dad right in front of my mom what she thought about his wife. Granny has never liked my mother, but Dad was so head over heels in love he didn’t care what his mother thought. After that day, Dad and Granny never spoke. Granny refused to apologize for the way she felt about Mom and the fact that she called her a “gold-diggin’ hussy” because she felt her opinion was justified.
It took a lot for Dad to call Granny and ask her if we could come live with her. That’s how I knew our situation was dire because Dad swore he would never speak to his mother again after that. Of course no one would ever believe there was any bad blood between the two of them if they saw them now.
It’s amazing how old grudges can disappear when people learn to let go. There’s no awkwardness between them at all. Granny busies herself hugging and kissing him, while singing Dad’s praises, neither of them mentioning the past to the other.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” Granny coos as she pulls back and cups his face in her hands. “It’s good to finally have you back.”
I swear I see a little tinge of embarrassment on his face when his cheeks redden just a touch at the sweetness of her words.
“Well, come on, you two, dinner’s a-waiting,” Granny beckons as she turns and heads back toward the house.
And just like that, the falling-out between them is a thing of the past.
I follow Granny into the house because we haven’t eaten since we left Columbus and I’m starving. A nice fresh salad followed by my standard pudding cup will totally hit the spot right now. I hope she has fat-free Italian dressing. Since I’m so weight conscious now, I tend to only eat salads for dinner so I can keep the figure I’ve worked so hard to get.
The house feels smaller inside than I remember, and everything is exactly the same as the last time when I was here. All the furniture is the same as when Dad was a kid. I wonder if I can con Granny into a little redecorating after I get her hooked on HGTV. This place can use some new life breathed into it.
The aroma of greasy food wafts in the air throughout the whole house, and it smells like absolute heaven. What I wouldn’t give to not have to obsessively count calories. Dieting sucks, but I have to work extra hard to keep the weight off. I’m not one of those girls who is blessed with the ability to just eat whatever. My body is very curvy by nature, and if I don’t watch my intake, I’ll turn into one immense curve like before.
“Wash up and then sit down at the table for dinner,” Granny instructs.
After I return from the bathroom, I find Dad and Granny sitting down at the square wooden table in the kitchen. My eyes dance over the spread that’s lying out on the table—fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and all the works. This is bigger than most Thanksgiving meals I’ve had at home with Mom. I bite my lip, and wish like crazy I could indulge, but I need to behave and stick to a salad like normal. The only problem is there’s no salad in sight.
Huh, maybe it’s in the refrigerator. Granny knows that I’m on a salad-only dinner plan. I’ve complained to her enough about it on the phone. I can’t believe that she’s forgotten that’s what I eat.
I sit down at the table next to Granny. “Hey Granny, did you get my dressing?”
“Nope, not yet. It’s on my grocery list though,” she says as she spoons a heaping helping of mashed potatoes on my plate. “I only go shopping every other week.”
“Did you fix a salad for me, though?” I ask, puzzled.
She shakes her head, and my face muscles twitch, threatening to show my disappointment. I guess one little home-cooked meal won’t kill me. I’ll just run two extra miles tomorrow to make up for it.
AVERY
Life sleeping on a couch is rough. I miss my bed, but I miss the privacy of my room more.
A girl needs her own room. That’s where we do our best meditating. When I got the grand tour last night and discovered my room is the couch, I wasn’t happy, but I knew I had to be thankful that I wasn’t sleeping on the streets. The silver lining in all this was when Dad told me that he already arranged with Granny to build an extra room onto the house for me. Seems as though Granny has a bit of money saved up and she wants me to have this. The only problem is that Dad says we don’t have enough money to hire someone to build it, so he’s going to do it himself.
I don’t have much faith in my dad’s handyman abilities. I’ve never even seen Dad as much as pick up a hammer. There’s no way I can picture him constructing part of a building.
I’m almost positive that the room is going to be lopsided.
He reassured me that he knows a little about construction, and that my room will turn out just fine, but I’m still pretty worried about it. He even told me yesterday that we can use Granny’s truck to go into town and start buying supplies.
It’ll probably be the highlight of my day since there’s not much else to do.
I hear some rustling in the kitchen and try to pretend I’m still sleeping when Granny starts yelling.
“Come on, rise and shine,” she calls through the house. “Breakfast is ready. Get up. You don’t want to sleep your life away.”
That actually doesn’t seem like such a bad way to go since she mentioned it.
I pull the blanket over my face and squeeze my eyes shut. This doesn’t work though because Granny comes over, rips the cover down, and keeps up her relentless taunt about me getting up. I groan and then roll over and push myself up because it’s obvious there’s no sleeping late in this house.
We’re having another huge meal this morning and it kills me to eat like this again. You’d think she would’ve learned not to make so much food since she’s lived alone all these years, but she tells me that she’s always made meals like this. Granny comes from a big family of eight brothers and sisters, and her mom was the one who taught her to cook, which was for a family of ten. I’m going to turn into a beached whale if I don’t get back on my normal diet soon. I’ll have to stop at a store somewhere so I can buy stuff that I’m used to eating.
The moment Granny’s delicious home cooking hits my mouth, I close my eyes and fight back the urge to go into a full-on food orgasm in front of my father. It tastes that damn good. I know I’ll regret it later, but right now I allow myself to indulge a little.
Dad and I eat while we listen to Granny rattle on about the local gossip. I don’t know any of the people that she’s talking about, so I zone out, staring at a scuff on the kitchen table and wondering if Dad put it there when he was a little kid.
“Avery? Avery? Did you hear anything I said?” Granny growls.
“Huh? About what?” I rush the words out.
“About your chore list.”
“Chores?” My eyes widen. “You’re giving me a chore list?”
“Well, you’ll have some duties around here,” Granny says sternly. “Everyone has to earn their keep.”
I never did anything remotely close to a chore back in Columbus. We had a cleaning service that came in and did everything, but I guess that’s not an option here, since we’re poor and all now. I shift uneasily in my chair while Granny reads me a list of things I’m supposed to do every day.
One thing on the list turns my st
omach and I have to protest.
“Whoa, clean stalls? That’s like cleaning up their shit, right? I don’t know a thing about horses,” I complain.
“Well, it’s time you learn about them,” she lectures. “And watch the language. It’s not right for a young lady to curse.” Granny gives me a wink and I chuckle. Ha, it’s fine for her to cuss all she wants, but I’m not even allowed to say shit? Not fair and she knows it.
After I help with the dishes, I make my way outside for a bit of fresh air.
I plop down on the front porch steps and stare into the green nothingness that surrounds the house. I guess I should be grateful for Granny’s chore list. At least it will give me something to do.
I stare down at my nails. I’m in desperate need of a manicure, but that’s just one more thing that I can no longer have.
“There’s no money for frivolous things,” Dad told me on the way down here. “We’ll have to just make do, and learn to live within our meager means now.”
“You ready?” my dad calls as he pushes open the screen door and steps out onto the porch with me.
“For what?” I ask, completely caught off guard because I’m still sulking over cleaning the horse stalls.
“To go to the lumberyard . . . remember? I’m going to start building your new room today.”
“Oh. Right.” I’d nearly forgotten about that.
I push myself up and Dad wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I know things are tough right now, but things can only go up from here.” He kisses me on the top of my head. “Come on, kiddo.”
I follow Dad out to Granny’s truck and then jump inside the cab with him. He twists the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. Granny doesn’t drive it much, but it still seems to be in perfectly good condition.
Dad pats the dash of the truck. “This was your grandpa’s pride and joy. He bought it new in eighty-eight, and it was the first new vehicle that he’d ever owned. I remember the day he bought it. He was so proud, and he turned to me and told me that working hard is how you can afford to have nice things. I took that statement to heart.”
Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3) Page 3