“I know that if this isn’t serious—and right now I doubt that—then at some point it will be something else.”
“You can’t live your whole life afraid of bad things happening. Dad would never ask that of you.”
“Maybe not, but I can’t live if I don’t ask that of myself.”
“Being a martyr,” her sister spat.
“Who else is going to help him?” Pepper dropped her voice to a menacing whisper.
“Um, last time I checked, I was still his daughter, too.”
“And what will you do? Community theater?” She hated making her sister flinch, but there was no time to pussyfoot around sensibilities. “I know you love being an actress. You are great. You can sing, dance, it’s so fun. I want you to have that. But let’s be honest. It’s not exactly going to pay the grocery bills.”
“Wow. Ouch.” Tears pooled in the corner of her sister’s narrowed eyes. “Tell me what you really think.”
“This is why I have made every decision I ever have.” Pepper’s pulse pounded, sending tremors from her wrists to her temple. “Because you want to be an actress, and Dad wants to make maple syrup. I want you both to be happy.”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Tuesday snapped. “No one ever asked you to sacrifice your happiness. Not once.”
“Someone has to be practical.”
“I think what Pepper is trying to say—” Rhett began.
“Stay out of it, Valentine,” Tuesday snapped, her color high. “You are trying to tell me that you never wanted to be a lawyer? Pepper? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Wanting has nothing to do with it!” she shouted. “What I want doesn’t matter.”
“What you want is always important!” Tuesday raised her voice to match.
“I want you to be happy.” Pepper closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “I want Dad happy. I want my family to be safe and okay. Screw Chicago. Take your part of the medallion winnings and, I don’t know, go to Hollywood.” She opened her eyes back up and looked pleadingly at her little sister. “You have more talent in your little finger than most people have in their whole body.”
“Stop with the martyr routine. You’re acting like that tree fromThe Giving Tree. I hate that book.”
“I love that book.” The tree was selfless, gave everything until she had nothing left, and then the boy came back.
Granted she was a stump, and he sat on her, and never seemed very grateful…
Huh.
“And what about him?” Tuesday jabbed a finger at Rhett. “Do you even look at yourself in the mirror these days? You’re different. Lighter. Smilier. That’s what’s different about you. You are happy, on the brink of finding passion.”
“Passion is self-serving,” Pepper shot back. “Obligation is what matters.”
“Can’t you do what you love, be what you love, and still meet your selfless responsibilities?” She flicked her brows up, and her small smile was devoid of its usual warmth.
“Ha.” Pepper tried for a joke. “And I thought you were the one who didn’t believe in fairy tales.”
“Stop!” Tuesday’s foot stamp shook the floor, crushing any attempt at flippancy. “Remember senior year? You worked at the hardware store that whole winter. I magically scored a scholarship to theater camp in Boston even though I didn’t apply. And you said you put your money toward college. Did you think I was stupid? I knew it was you. But I couldn’t even say thanks because you didn’t want me to know you were helping. And it made me feel guilty.”
“That’s not what I want.” Pepper’s shoulders were stiff. What was wrong with helping? She cared about her sister and was good at solving problems. “I never meant for you to feel that way.”
“There’s a fine line between a hug and squeezing so tight that I can’t breathe from the force. I appreciate support and encouragement, but don’t want to be disempowered in the process. It feels like you don’t believe in me, like you always know better.” Tuesday studied her face, her eyes burning. “Let me make mistakes. Trust that Dad has a plan. We aren’t stupid.”
“I don’t think either of you are stupid. But…”
“You know who you don’t trust? Yourself.” Her chin lifted slightly. “You worry about us so you don’t have to worry about yourself, afraid what it means to look at what you want deep down because that means you’ll have to own it. And once you admit what you want, it’s scary as hell because it means you have to make the real choice. To go after it or not.”
Pepper reeled like she’d been struck, and flexed numbing fingers. Her mouth dried. It took two swallows before she could speak. “Tuesday—”
