This is what always happens when someone else invades my space. When someone tries to push me places I don’t want to go.
It makes me shut down. Close off. Want to hide from everyone and everything.
Which is what I’m going to do now. Because I don’t want to hear anything else my mother has to say about the way I have to live. I wasn’t given a choice and she won’t be getting one either.
But—true to her nature—as I’m closing the door to my rooms, she manages to sneak in one last thing.
“I don’t think we disagree as much as you think.”
7
Mariah
“I CAN’T STAY here.” I wipe at one of my teary eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. “Not now.”
I know I’m overreacting. Yes, Moss Creek is a small town, but it’s notmysmall town. I wasn’t born and raised here. People haven’t known me since I was a kid. They won’t judge me for the situation I’ve accidentally found myself in.
And it was absolutely an accident. One I never saw coming.
“Of course you can stay here.” My friend Janie wraps one arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her side. “You know Devon and I have your back.” She wiggles her brows. “And I’ve got three built-in babysitters at my disposal now.”
I manage a watery smile. I’m happy for my friend. She’s had a shitty go of it and deserves the love and support she’s found in Devon and his three teenage daughters. But damn, I wish I could have found something like that.
Instead I tripped and fell onto a fly-by-night ranch hand with smooth moves and faulty condoms.
Along with no sense of responsibility or attachment.
“I know, and I love you guys for that.” I take a shaky breath. “But I think it’s time for a fresh start.”
Again.
That’s what Moss Creek was supposed to be. A fresh start. And it was. Right up until I started making the same mistakes I always do. Seeing what I want to see instead of what’s really there.
I can’t do that anymore. Now it’s not just me I have to worry about. Not just me have I to look out for.
Yet another reason I have to go.
“Plus, I really can’t turn this opportunity down.” Technically, it wasn’t even supposed to bemyopportunity. Janie’s the one who found this job. If things had gone a tiny bit differently, she would be the one selling off her furniture and packing everything else into a couple suitcases. It would be her driving to Wyoming in the morning.
But things didn’t go differently. They went the same way they always do.
I fucked-up. I put my trust in the wrong person and it came back to bite me.
“I mean, you’re not really wrong about that.” Janie leans close, lowering her voice like we aren’t the only two people sitting in my empty apartment. “You realize you have to tell me everything when you get there, right. I need to know what it’s like working for Deidre Bradshaw.”
“Technically, I’m not working for Deidre Bradshaw.” I sit a little straighter, repeating the words Deidre said during my interview. “I will be working for her son Titus Bradshaw, tech genius.”
Whatever the hell that means.
I know how to use the Internet as well as anybody, and I can take a pretty great selfie. But that’s as far as my digital knowledge goes. Thankfully, I am one hell of a good cook, so I’m not too worried my new boss will be as unimpressed by my skills as I currently am by his.
Maybe unimpressed is the wrong word. Uninterested is a little more applicable. To be fair, I’m not interested in much right now outside of naps and dry toast with a side of ginger ale.
Janie purses her lips, nose wrinkling as she asks, “did you tell them you’re pregnant?”
“No, I did not.” I have a whole list of reasons why I held that information back, the main one being I haven’t hit twelve weeks yet, so I’m still technically in the danger zone. It’s entirely possible that this could all go away.
And I’m not sure how I feel about that. Initially I wasnotthrilled to end up a member of the two percent of the population victimized by ineffective latex. But now that I’ve had a little more time to think about it—and get used to the idea—I have to wonder if this might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
