“Sounds terrifying,” I jab.
“Oh, probably. But what do I know? I’m just out here sleeping with couples apparently.”
My eyes round and I turn to face her fully. “You had fun, right? Don’t be hard on yourself.”
Bri continues making an X with her stick into the rock. “It was fun. But I was kinda jealous of what they have, you know? They were secure enough in what they feel for each other to bring me in. I want that. I don’t even need somebody who wants to share. I just want that tight bond. I want a Jake for me, who would carry me in the house when I drink too much and clean my feet?—”
“Okay, wait, what?” I hold up a hand and shake my head. “First things first. Yes, I want all those things for you too, and I don’t think you screwed up in hooking up with Stone and Becca if it helped you learn what you want. You’re ready for more and you wouldn’t know that unless you went home with them.”
“That’s true. Sunny side up and all that.” She chuckles. “I bet you want to know more about when your man scooped you out of the grass like some bodice ripper cover and whisked you away to your bed.”
“Like a bodice ripper cover?” I laugh. “Was he wearing a torn-open white shirt? Did his hair magically get longer and the wind came along to rustle it?”
“Not quite, but it was really sweet. He like, got a warm washcloth and cleaned grass off your feet, even though you were crabbing at him.” She pauses. “I get why you’re mad at him, Darcy, and only you can decide if it’s a deal-breaker. But I like him. He brings out the best in you instead of covering you up.”
“Oh my god, save that for our fanfic! Can we write tonight, or are you having Becca sleep over after the barbecue?”
She sticks out her pinky. “Let’s write. Becca’s for this weekend. You’re for always.”
I link my pinky with hers and we each kiss our thumbs. “You’re my always too.”
Wollered: rolled around, wallowed
THIRTY-THREE
DARCY
I’m a sweaty,sticky, dirty mess when Bri and I get back from the orchard. A handful of my most helpful cousins showed up to help with the morning picking. It’s a part of our family Fourth of July tradition. The peaches come in super fast, and we give the workers the holiday weekend off.
My dad’s sisters Susan, Sally, and Rosie, are bustling around the kitchen and dining room putting out sandwich fixings for our massive family, and the house is getting crowded. Of course, some just show up to eat, then pick, while others come out early to get more orchard work done.
I haven’t even made it to the kitchen because of the people soup I’d have to wade through to get there.
I’m rejuvenated by being surrounded by my big loud mess of a family, but between the ride, picking peaches, and my persistent hangover, I’m wiped. Bri has been here enough times that she can fend for herself, so I don’t worry when I lose her to the swirl of cheek kisses and “sorry I stink” and “the place looks great!”
I’m swept into a big hug before I’m oriented, but I know it well: an extra bicep squeeze to bring us closer, surrounded by Pleasures perfume, and a nest of graying hair. “Maggie.”
“You’re doing so good with everything, sis. It looks great. And also I think your perfume smells better than mine and you need to give me the name of it because when you inevitably leave us, I’ll miss that smell in the house.”
I laugh. “You’re too sweet. And at this rate, I’m never leaving.”
She tips her head. “That’ll be alright too. Somebody’s got to see us into our sunset years.”
“Okay, wait, I didn’t say, ‘retire and never come back.’ How’s your trip?”
I get a tug on my ponytail and again, I know who it is before I turn. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, sweetie.” My dad squeezes me tight and holds me back by the shoulders. “A little dirty, but it’ll do.”
“Maybe if you’d shown up a little earlier, you could be dirty too,” I say, and Bill laughs, coming up next to my dad.
The hug chain keeps coming until Maggie clutches my shoulder. “You’ve worked the hardest. Fix you a plate before all these ghouls gobble it up.”
“What ghouls?” My mom comes around the corner and plants her hands on her hips. “All I see is my baby girl.”
I reach for my mom, who looks very little like me. I got most of my looks from the Rossetti side: perky boobs, big hips and ass, and all that dark curly hair. If anything, I resemble my aunties most.
I hug my mom, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve seen her since I split with Rob. That brings in a mix of emotions. Why didn’t I call them first? Why was Maggie the first call I made?
