“Thanks, Momma. I appreciate that.”
“I’m proud of you, sweetheart. How far out are y’all booked now?”
“Few months.”
“That’s great! I know Nash showed Nat around while she was home, and she took a ton of pictures of everything y’all’ve done. Showcasin’ those’ll get your schedules booked out even more, I bet.”
If Rory’d heard those words before the call with Nat, she’d have just rolled her eyes and grumbled internally about what kind of Photoshop magic her sister would work on the pictures just to mess with her. But now…well, maybe Nat’s motives weren’t so sinister. Maybe it really would help launch their joint venture to where it needed to be for both of them to have sustainable incomes.
Daddy scoffed. “Still don’t know why you’re wastin’ your time with that nonsense. If you’re so intent on doin’ frivolous stuff, you can help Will set up the town events to get more hours and go full time.”
Rory took a deep breath, but it didn’t calm her in the least. That perfection she’d strived for simply in an effort to make her daddy happy had never satisfied him.Nothinghad.
When she’d come home with a 4.0 GPA, he’d told her she should’ve taken more AP classes to get that rank higher. When she’d received a full-ride scholarship to Ole Miss, he’d lamented the fact that it wasn’t an Ivy League school. When she’d been elected student council president, had been reigning captain of the debate team, and still managed to be editor of the newspaper, it hadn’t been enough for him.
And then she’d gone on to marry a man whom she’d felt she had to be perfect for to keep, and look where that had gotten her. Was it really such a wonder she’d listened to the whispers—both internally and externally—telling her she’d never be enough for Nash?
Rory slammed her fork on the plate loud enough that Mac jumped next to her. “What I do isn’t frivolous. And every time you suggest as much—for either me or Will—it’s rude and disrespectful, and I’m tired of it.”
Silence settled over the table, but Rory refused to shrink back or apologize. She was so damn sick of apologizing for everything she did. The only person she’d never done it with was Nash. And he’d never asked her to.
Daddy stared at her, his forkful of chicken potpie stilled halfway to his mouth. He cleared his throat and set his fork back on his plate. “Well, pardon me for tryin’ to help my daughter out. I just want you to settle in a good, strong career so you can take care of the girls.”
She could’ve nearly recited his words because they happened like clockwork. The snide remark was first, then came the guilt. But Rory was through allowing her father—or anyone—to make her feel something she didn’t want to.
“No, what you’re tryin’ to do is belittle my choices.”
“That’s not—”
“I’m not finished,” she said, her voice stern. “You’re also tryin’ to tell me in not so many words that you don’t support me or believe in the path I’ve chosen to pursue.”
“Excuse me, young lady—”
“Still not finished, Daddy.” With each word, her voice grew a little stronger and she sat up a little straighter. Telling her father exactly what she thought of him and his bullshit ideals feltfantastic. Why hadn’t she done it years ago? “I’m appreciative of the job you’ve given me at town hall when I certainly wouldn’t have been hired elsewhere. But that’s all it’s ever gonna be to me—a job. It’s never gonna be a career. Never something I’m passionate about. Not something I wake up excited for each day. Not something I dream about or spend my off time thinkin’ of. Not like design.”
“Well, I guess I just don’t understand what’s so special about that.”
She exhaled a deep sigh and barely refrained from rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. “I’m not askin’ you to understand it. I’m askin’ you tosupportit. To supportme.”
She could’ve heard a pin drop in the next room. No one moved an inch—was anyone even breathing? She glanced over at her girls, and they were staring at her with wide eyes and open mouths. It didn’t bother her one bit that they’d seen her stand up to him, but maybe she’d gone too far. Maybe she’d said too much. Maybe this was a conversation she should’ve had with her father privately. Maybe she—
Gran slapped her hand down on the table. “Well, it’s about damn time.” She inclined her head toward Rory and lifted her glass, a grin splitting her face. “If I had it my way, you would’ve told your daddy all that on the day he didn’t show up to your ballet recital, but I suppose that was a lot to ask of a nine-year-old. Better late than never.”
“Ballet?” Ava asked, her voice interested as she darted her eyes between Gran and Rory. “You used to dance like me, Momma?”
“She sure did,” Gran said. “Was the cutest little swan I’ve ever seen—next to you, of course. Such a shame some jackassery stopped her from pursuin’ that.” Gran shot her son a scowl—one he either didn’t notice or ignored completely. “But it looks like she’s all done with that nonsense. Let this be a lesson to you, girls. Don’t let anyone stomp on your dreams.”
While Ava launched into her dream to be a figure skater, Rory glanced around the table, her throat tightening when she found nothing but support—from her momma and sisters—and the contrite eyes of her father. She knew it was too much to ask for him to say the words, but she didn’t need them. Not anymore.
For years, she’d allowed him to make her feel like she’d never measured up to his standards. Had allowedeveryoneto make her feel like that, but she was done. The only standards she needed to reach were the ones she’d established for herself. The example she wanted to set for her girls, and she’d done so.
Somewhere along this twisty, windy road, she’d found herself, had settled more comfortably into her skin, and she was finally and unapologetically herself. She was done with the fake smiles and facades. She was done pretending. If people couldn’t handle her at her worst, they didn’t deserve her at her best.
She sat a little taller in the knowledge that she wasn’t apologizing anymore. She was Rory Haven, firstborn girl in five generations of all boys. Divorced mom to two beautiful, unique girls, a damn good interior designer, and in love with a man eight years her junior.
Now she just had to figure out how to show him that.
Rory couldn’t getthe girls in bed fast enough. Through the rest of supper and after, she’d checked out, her mind working through a dozen different scenarios to let Nash know she was finally in this, all the way. She was done inventing reasons to hold them back. She wanted everything with him, to hell with what anyone else thought.
