I held a big smile while my sisters and mother exchanged wordless glances and tiny shrugs. It went on for a solid two minutes, long enough to catch Cindy's attention over in the romance section. She gave them a quick once-over and went back to her browsing. Whichever plan they'd hatched on the way here—because they always had plans—had gone to shit when they walked in.
Eventually, my mother asked, "Annette, are you dating Sheriff Lau?"
A shocked, breathy noise rattled in my throat, like I was gagging on a laugh. I hadn't been expecting this visit but I should've expected that question. I didn't look toward Cindy or the romance section. I couldn't meet her gaze for anything. "What? What are you talking about?"
"See? I told you it was ridiculous," Rosa said, giving my mother and sisters a sharp look. "Can we go now?"
I went back to fussing with the box in front of me. I wasn't lying, not exactly. I just wasn't confirming anything. It was an omission, for sure, but I needed more time to formulate my approach with my family. If I appeared disinterested and blew off their questions, I'd buy myself a month or two. That was what I needed to prepare Jackson for a Cortassi family dinner-slash-inquisition and pray he didn't run far and fast in the opposite direction.
"If you're not involved with him, well, that's—that'sgood," my mother said. "A relief, really."
"A relief?" I asked. I was glad I hadn't said anything. This way, I could hear what they really thought. I went on shuffling the contents of this box as if it required an extreme attention to detail. "How do you figure that?"
Rosa smiled as she stepped toward me. "We wouldn't want you getting hurt."
"Okay," I said, dragging the word all the way out. "Not sure about that but thanks."
"He's just out of your league, honey. It wouldn't work out in the long run," Rosa said. "Think about it. If you're honest with yourself, I'm sure you'll see we're right."
Ice shot through my veins, freezing me where I stood. Rosa wasn't one to make oblique comments so she wasn't saying that to hurt me. She was saying it because she believed it. Part of me believed it, too. I'd always believed it.
"And after everything that happened with Owen," Nella added. The cringe on her face said it all. She didn't have to say another word but she couldn't help but provide an annotated history of my missteps. "Where you kept trying to force it with him and he clearly didn't want that, and you didn't know how to recognize a brush-off when you saw one, and you spent a couple of years looking desperate? You don't want to do that again."
"You don't," Lydia agreed. "It doesn't matter what you two are doing. You shouldn't try to force it with the sheriff, Annette."
I jabbed a finger at them. "You're being kind of awful right now. You're welcome to rest this case at any time."
Nella folded her arms as she sent me a smug glare. She was good at that, being smug. I couldn't say it suited her but it was certainly a skill she possessed.
"We're telling you the truth," Nella argued. "We care about you. We wouldn't be saying this if we didn't."
"I mean, there are ways to get your point across without also being awful," I said, shrugging. "I'm just saying."
"Sometimes the truth hurts. It's a lot like getting your vag waxed," Rosa said. "And you seem really sensitive for someone who claims she isn't hooking up with the sheriff."
"Your sisters are right," Mom said, leaving no room for dispute. "Whatever you think is happening between you and the sheriff, it's time to let it go. You two aren't a good match."
"Not at all," Nella insisted.
"Cool," I deadpanned. "Not sure about all that but thanks for your concern."
I wanted to argue. Tell them they knew nothing about me and Jackson. Insist I was worthy of a man like Jackson. Remind them I'd never questioned them or their relative value when they were dating their now-husbands.
I wanted to cry. Walk away, sink down into a dark corner, and cry. The door chimes sounded and I answered Cindy's wave with one of my own.
"He needs a wifey-wife and you're not into the wifey gig," Nella continued. Goddamn, I wanted to throw a book at her head. "You don't cook, you don't iron, you're not into the whole happy home thing. There are too many nice girls around here who would do that for him. Don't make him believe he should settle."
"We're only looking out for you, Annette," Mom added. "We don't want to see you following that poor man around like you did with Owen. Like Nella said, it was desperate. You don't attract a man with desperation."
Their words stung but I wasn't going to let them see that. I wasn't going to let them see anything.
I wanted to argue. Tell them they knew nothing about me or Jackson. Insist I was worthy of a man like him. Remind them I'd never questioned them or their relative value when they were dating their now-husbands.
I wanted to cry. Walk away, sink dark down into a corner, and cry. Forget all the barbs and backhanded comments—the open-fist ones, too—and pour it out.
I wanted Jackson. I wanted to get lost in him and his unyielding comfort, and I wanted him to promise me they were wrong. But now I knew what they'd think about me and Jackson, together. What they'd say when I wasn't in the room. I'd always known it would be this way but hearing it from them cemented it for me.
I also wanted to school my family on gender roles in modern society. I didn't know where they got off with this line of thinking. It was moments like these that made me question my lineage.
