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Making the Move: Mill Street Series #2

Page 11

by Calla, Jessica


  I cringed. I wasn’t ready to tell her the truth. We were still too close to NJU, and I was afraid she’d make me drive her back. “I’m not sure.” In an attempt to change the subject away from Ollie, I tapped her phone. “I have an idea to make the trip go faster—how about some Samsational?”

  The entire ride to Virginia, Vi played Sampson’s videos on her phone. I couldn’t watch since I was driving, but I listened. He was funny. Charismatic. She subscribed to his channel, as if he needed more subs, and we laughed and talked about it for hours. When I could, I peeked at her, smiling as she watched. Our conversations were back to normal and managed to push down the guilt I’d felt for lying to her about Ollie.

  Sampson kept us entertained for most of the ride. Highways turned to fast-paced, two-way roads. As we curved up hills, our ears popped from the new height until we reached the one-way streets. Finally, we came to a dirt road that turned through a field of snow, on a path that led to my family’s property.

  Vi pressed her nose to the window. “Look at all the space. I don’t remember the last time I saw so much untouched snow. It’s like it goes for miles.”

  “It’s a little cooler up here since we’re a bit higher in altitude. I’ll have to spend some of the week taking care of the house I’m sure, and I’ll have to shovel if this doesn’t melt.” I turned onto the long driveway. “Here it is. Casa a la King.”

  The yellow house was set off the road but provided a burst of color on the white backdrop of winter. It had a bright red door and a huge wraparound porch, complete with a swing and a black lab. I loved every inch of the place.

  The dog barked as we approached.

  “Elmo!” Violet sang.

  Weeks ago, I’d told her that Charlie named the dog when she was five. That she’d remembered me mentioning him made me smile. “That’s him. In two seconds, they’ll all be running out. One…two…”

  Sure enough, my sisters ran toward the truck, squealing and jumping off the front porch. I put the truck in park and turned to Vi. Her eyes widened as my sisters descended. “They all look the same. I’m scared I’ll mix them up.”

  Sierra tapped on Vi’s window. “Is that Violet?” she asked, pointing through the glass.

  Ignoring Sierra, I reached for Vi’s hand, offering a reassuring squeeze. “I mix them up all the time, and they answer to anything. Welcome to sibling life, Pix. You know I got your back, right? It can get a little crazy here.”

  Her grin widened and spread across her face. “I can’t wait.”

  Then she let go of me and jumped out of the truck. My sisters crowded around her as my mom trotted down the porch steps and joined them.

  From my spot in the driver’s seat, I watched my worlds collide, as if I’d fit the last piece of the puzzle into place. Violet seemed to come alive in the middle of the mayhem, and when she peeked back at me through the windshield, a devilish smile crossed her lips.

  Maybe Sampson was right, and I should go for it. Make the move. Maybe it all wouldn’t fall apart if I talked to Violet and asked if we could become something more. Because for me, with Vi standing on my driveway—surrounded by my family, hugging my mother—everything felt right and perfect in the world for the first time ever.

  Violet

  Being at the King residence was kind of like being dropped in the middle of Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Chaotic, exciting, overstimulating, scary. Also, loud. Really, really loud.

  Josh, his mother, Isabelle, and three of his sisters swarmed around the kitchen while his grandmother, whom they all called “Grannie Grey,” sat at the table, reading celebrity gossip newspapers. The oldest sister, Amelia, whom Josh referred to as “his current headache,” was at her fiancé’s house and would be bringing him back for dinner. In the meantime, I’d been given her usual dinner prep task—salad duty.

  I sat across from Grannie Grey, taking it all in. The way they moved around each other in the small kitchen and didn’t crash, the way they fought and laughed. Josh towered over them at the counter, pounding on chicken cutlets with a mallet while his little Charlie, attached to his hip, talked to him about an upcoming spring choir concert she’d be singing in.

  Watching them had put me into a trance. When Sierra sidled up and hip-checked Josh into the counter, he stumbled, then held the mallet over his head like he wanted to pound her. She squealed. He relaxed, then asked her about her grades.

  The way her eyes lit up as she told him about her photography class, and the way he stared down at her, intent and caring, made my insides flip. Although I knew he was a caretaker by nature from the way he was with me, he seemed like a different person around them—prideful, almost like a coach organizing a team.

  He caught my eye, and I grinned, my cheeks warming from being caught ogling him and eavesdropping. I went back to chopping cucumbers, concentrating on the cutting board until Grannie Grey wiggled her papers in the air across from me.

  “You know that Sunshine Star lady?” Grannie asked.

  “Sure,” I answered.

  They all kept working, except Millie, who joined us at the table. “The one from the Netflix show we watch?”

  “Yes, that’s that one. Did you know she’s pregnant?” Grannie held up the paper.

  Millie took the paper and flipped to the cover. “This is from two years ago.” She pulled out her phone, tapped it a few times, and then showed Grannie a picture. “See. The baby’s already two.”

  Grannie shook her head. “Well, why didn’t any of you tell me she had a baby?”

  I stifled a giggle.

  “We didn’t know you were that interested, Mom,” Isabelle answered. “Why do you care?”

  “Nobody tells me anything around here.” Grannie threw the paper on the table. “Someone could have mentioned it, that’s all I’m saying.”

  Charlie left Josh’s side for the first time since we’d arrived and put her arms around Grannie Grey’s shoulders. “We’re sorry, Gran. Don’t be mad.” Wow, the kid was sweet.

  Sierra tugged the girl’s hair. “Suck up.”

  “Meanie,” Charlie said back, then stuck out her tongue.

  Watching them interact was like watching a movie, and I found myself waiting for the next action scene, the next line of dialogue. I smiled into the giant wooden bowl of lettuce and dumped in the cucumbers.

  Charlie let go of Grannie and stood next to me. Her golden hair was long, almost down to her waist, and her big blue eyes matched her brother’s. “What’s up, Charlie? Am I doing it right?” I asked.

  “You are. Can I play with your hair?”

  “Not around the food,” Isabelle answered, opening the oven.

  I whispered, “Later. Can I play with yours too?”

  Charlie nodded. “Where do all the curls come from?”

  “My dad, I guess. But he’s bald now so he has no hair.” Behind her, Josh pushed the cutting board and its mound of cutlets to the side, then moved to the sink to wash his hands. Even in the crowded kitchen, I was hyperaware of every move he made.

  She put her hand over her mouth and giggled. “Do you ever straighten it?”

  “No. It’s easier to keep the curls. Takes a good hour with the hair dryer to straighten it, and my arm gets tired.”

  “I feel you, girl,” Millie piped in. She squeezed the bottom edge of her bobbed hair, fluffing it up. “That’s why I cut mine off.”

  Josh spun and leaned against the counter, focusing on me as he dried his hands with a dishtowel. “You’ve straightened it.”

  I scrunched my face. “I have?”

  He smiled. “That time you and Ollie went to the holiday party on the cruise around Manhattan. It was straight, and you wore a red dress.”

  Charlie looked to me, waiting for my reply. I gulped when I remembered that Josh was right. I winked to Charlie. “Then I guess I have straightened it.” Catching Josh’s eye, I asked. “How did it look?”

  His answer was immediate. “Phenomenal.”

  The entire room quieted
as everyone stopped moving and chatting to look at the sole man in the room. My face heated again. That party had to have been three years ago, and the fact that he remembered what I’d looked like, how I’d worn my hair, not only shocked me but made me feel noticed…seen.

  With the silence surrounding him, Josh folded his arms and looked around. “What?”

  “That’s a strong word, bro.” Sierra looked between Josh and me. “And a keen observation.”

  “So? I’m a guy; she looked great. What’s your problem?”

  “Do you remember what I was wearing last Christmas?” Millie asked, tilting her chin.

  Josh snapped the towel at her. “No, buttwad. I don’t check out my sisters.”

  “But you check out your roommate’s girlfriend?” Sierra pinched his arm, and he yanked her hair.

  “Leave him alone,” Isabelle said to the girls as she stirred something on the stove. I got the sense she was trying to save him from his sisters. She turned to me. “How is Oliver? Usually he visits once in a while, but we haven’t seen him since the summer.”

  “Oh, um…” I cleared my throat. “We aren’t together anymore.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Isabelle huffed and spun around to face me. She took the step toward me and kissed my head, and it kind of made me feel better. “Relationships can be grueling. Has Grannie told you about her new boyfriend? She’s robbing the cradle.”

  Grannie leaned over the table, obviously wanting my full attention. I let go of my thoughts about Oliver and pushed the salad aside. With my elbows spread, I leaned over the table and stacked my hands, like Grannie was going to tell me the secret to the universe.

  “He’s only sixty-five,” she said. “Everyone at the senior center is jealous.”

  “Yeah, Grannie is a vixen,” Sierra said. “The slut of the senior center.”

  “Sierra!” Isabelle yelled, then she turned to Grannie Grey. “Tell Violet about the pie contest.”

  “We cheated,” Grannie said. “Really, Amelia made the pie, but I told everyone I did. Amelia makes the best peach cobbler. I wanted to win first place because the prize was tickets to the ice show in Charlamagne, and I knew Charlie would want to go. But don’t tell the seniors.”

  I laughed. “I won’t.”

  “My boyfriend wanted me to win for Charlie so badly that after the judges took their bites and tasted Amelia’s pie, he ate the entire rest of it. He made a big show about how good it was, until he threw up all over the event coordinator.”

  Josh groaned. “We’re making dinner here. Can we not talk about vomit?”

  “The lesson to be learned,” Grannie said, leaning close, “is that the right man will do anything for you. Even eat an entire peach cobbler just to prove it’s the best one. That guy is the one that you have to hold on to. That’s the keeper.”

  Nodding, I let her words sink in as I watched Josh putter around the kitchen.

  “Yeah, Violet,” Millie said. “Find the guy who will barf up a pie for you, and you’ll forget all about Oliver.”

  Isabelle snapped a dishtowel at Millie and gave me a sympathetic look. She seemed to know what I was thinking—if only it were that easy.

  Chapter Eleven

  Josh

  When I heard the front door open and slam shut, then a male voice, I knew that Amelia and her jackass boyfriend had arrived. Mom, Grannie, and my sisters ran out to the living room, but I lagged behind with Vi.

  She studied me, with those brown eyes full of concern. “Are you ready for this?”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t even met the guy and I hate him.”

  “Give him a chance. Remember what Grannie Grey said?”

  I smirked, loving how she’d handled the family nonsense like she was one of us, even after only a couple of hours. “That Sunshine Star was pregnant?”

  She laughed, the sound like music. “No. The part about keeping the vomiter. Maybe he’s her vomiter.”

  I chuckled, taking minute to study her and finding comfort in her presence. “I don’t know, Vi. What kind of brother would I be to encourage this rush to the altar? She’s a teenager.”

  “Give him a chance,” she said. “Maybe he’s super cool.”

  I took a deep breath and then let it out in a huff. “Fine. For you, I’ll try.”

  Vi took my hand and started toward the living room and the voices. “Wait,” I called.

  She stopped and turned to me.

  “Thanks for coming with me this week. I hope my sisters aren’t too much.”

  “Are you kidding? I love being here. I feel like I’ve been dropped into the middle of a reality show.”

  “Sierra always says we should be a reality show.” I rubbed my hands over my face, feeling the stubble on my unshaven cheeks. “That’s the last thing I need.”

  Vi laughed. “There’s so much life and love in your family, Josh. I hope you still feel it, even though it’s been part of your world forever.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I pointed my chin toward the living room. “It’s just the stress that comes along with it sometimes overshadows that.”

  “Well,” she said, “don’t let it. Because what you and your family have is special.”

  Her eyes welled with tears, and I understood what she was saying. She’d grown up a lot differently than I had. I pulled her into a hug. “Just so you know, Pix, I’d vomit up your peach cobbler any day.”

  With a giggle, she squeezed me around my waist. When she looked up at me with that pretty face, the face from my dreams, my heart pumped to life.

  “I know you would.” She tilted her head toward the chaos on the other side of the kitchen door. “You ready?”

  Nope, I wasn’t. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  * * *

  Dinner went as well as could be expected. “Dominic” was decent, except for the fact that he wanted to marry my nineteen-year-old sister. Good-looking, preppy. He resembled Oliver a little with his lanky, thin frame. I interviewed him as if he were applying for a job. In a way, he was. Mine. My job as caretaker of my sister.

  I asked him about his job at City Hall, his intentions for the future, his college education. I made him run down a list of his friends, which were many, and enemies, to which he claimed he had none. When I asked him why he liked my sister, Violet, who was sitting next to me, punched me in the thigh under the table.

  Amelia barked at me from across the table. “Shut up, Josh. Jeez, you’re giving him the first-degree.”

  “It’s third-degree,” Millie said.

  “Is it?” Amelia asked. “Why?”

  When Millie pulled out her phone and tapped, Grannie threw a roll at her. “No devices at the table.”

  “I’m just checking why it’s third-degree, Gran.”

  Dominic cleared his throat. “It’s a euphemism for torture. And I don’t feel tortured. More like…well-vetted.”

  Vi chuckled next to me. Okay, score one for the douchebag. I eased up on him for the rest of the meal and then asked if he wanted to go out and have a drink with me. “Since you’re twenty-one,” I added, glaring at my sister.

  Dominic looked to Amelia. “Would you mind?”

  She shook her head and looked up at him in a way that resembled a cartoon character in love. “Of course not, Honeybear.” Then she glared at me. “You’d better be nice.”

  “Me?” I touched my chest. “I’m always nice. Honeybear.”

  She squinted in silent warning.

  “You driving tonight?” I asked, testing him.

  “No. Amelia picked me up and offered to drive me home. If it’s too late though, I’ll get a car.”

  Passed. Damn it.

  I found Violet and Charlie in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher. “You don’t have to do that, Pix. You’re our guest.”

  “No worries. It’s fun helping out. Charlie’s teaching me about things.” She looked down at my little sister like she was in awe of her.

  “Really? Like what?”

  “Like ho
w you never eat cereal here.”

  I gasped, pretending to be surprised, then kissed Charlie’s head. “Giving away all my secrets, are you?”

  Charlie giggled. “I’m going to show Violet your baby book. There’s a picture of baby Josh naked in the bathtub.”

  Vi’s cheeks flushed and her eyes widened. “I don’t need to see that one.”

  I winked at Vi. Placing the glasses on the counter, I lifted Charlie. She squealed when I blew raspberries into her belly. “Put me down!”

  “I will, but I have to talk to Vi for a minute. Okay?” When she answered in the affirmative, I stood her up on the floor and she skipped out of the room.

  I turned to Violet. “I’m going to talk to Dom, have a guy-to-guy chat.”

  “Oh, you mean Honeybear?”

  “You caught that too?”

  “She only called him that like fifty times in the past hour.” Violet laughed. “You could compare nicknames, Hunkarama.”

  Chuckling, I pulled the whiskey from the liquor cabinet. “Yeah maybe. You’ll be okay if I take him out for a while?”

  “Of course. Charlie’s going to let me braid her hair. I may have to steal her.”

  “Oh, please no,” I whined. “It’s bad enough I’m losing one sister. Don’t take the best one.”

  “She is pretty sweet though.”

  “She reminds me of you.” I touched her nose.

  Violet smiled. “Don’t go too hard on Honeybear, okay? He’s kind of cute. They look in love.”

  “Oh please. Cute? You think so?” The fact that he resembled Oliver hadn’t escaped my notice.

  “Not as cute as you. Different cute.”

  Flirtation time had commenced. “Good answer, Pix. Wait up for me?” My voice shook when I asked, but I didn’t want to lose her to the feminine vibe in the house. Selfishly, I needed her to myself tonight, to talk to her and maybe even, if the talking went okay, to hold her.

 

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