“You don’tneedto do anything. But we could certainly make a good case against them, for fiscal losses.”
“No,” I say immediately. “No. Not right now. I just want them out of my life and gone. If anything, I want a restraining order against them.”
Shelley snorts, but takes my quip seriously. “Keep a record of any contact they make with you, and let me know if you notice their P.I. following you.”
I tell her that I will, and then we hang up. I set my phone down, take another bite of my pastry and a sip of coffee. Then it finally starts sinking in: my parents’ lawsuit was dismissed. I’m done with them—I won.
I can finally focus on my future, without the weight of the lawsuit and the specter of my parents hanging over everything I do. I can finally let myself dream about my life here in Star Mountain. With Jonah.
I’ve never given much thought to what I would do with my life outside of pageants and social media. I never had the chance.When every day is lived for survival, when every aspect of your life is about making someone else happy, I guess you start forgetting about yourself, and what you want. At least I did.
As a child, I remember wanting one thing: for my parents to care about me. Tonoticeme. But it’s past time for some new dreams. I could do anything I wanted.
For some reason, all I can think about is Hank’s hardware store closing, and the shop front that will be vacant on Star Mountain’s Main Street. Ronda mentioned more than once to me that she wishes there was a nice clothing store here, and maybe some of the other locals feel the same.
I could start a shop that sells used and vintage clothing, as well as some hand-picked new styles. I could sell prom dresses and bridesmaid dresses. Hell, I could even start sourcing some vintage bridal looks. I could make it a one stop shop for fashion and color and fun, just like Ronda suggested, right here in Star Mountain.
Just thinking about it makes me smile. With a new dream tucked into my heart, I eat the last bite of my pastry, and it tastes absolutely fucking delicious.
After a few hoursof work at the barn and another lesson on Rosie, I rush home, excited to tell Jonah about the lawsuit. I find him in the entryway, examining what looks to be a rifle.
“What is that?” I ask, setting my bag down and staring at him with wide eyes.
“A hunting rifle,” he explains placidly.
“And why is it in our house?”
“Because I need to make sure you’re protected when I’m not here.” He sets the rifle down against the wall by the door and gives me a serious look.
I can’t help but laugh. “So I’m supposed to what, fire that thing at trespassers on our property? Jonah, I’ve never shot a gun and I wasn’t planning on learning.”
“It’s not for trespassers. It’s for your parents, or anyone they hire. To scare them off if they come here looking for you.”
Ah. The rifle makes complete sense now. “Come here,” I say, grabbing his elbow and guiding him into the living room. “Sit.”
Together we sit on the couch and I angle my body so that I’m looking at him. “The case was dismissed. My parents aren’t going to be a problem any longer.”
“Winnie, that’s amazing.” Jonah leans in and kisses me on the cheek, and then on the forehead. “I knew they wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”
“Against Shelley,” I correct. “She’s a shark.”
Jonah chuckles. “That she is. How do you feel?”
“I feel…like I have my entire life ahead of me. I feel like I can breathe again. I feel hopeful. Like I can do anything. And weirdly enough, this lawsuit was the last bit of connection I had with them. Now that it’s done, I can live my life as if they don’t even exist.”
Jonah’s face turns grave for a moment. “But they do still exist. Unfortunately. So I’m not getting rid of the rifle just yet, okay? You don’t have to learn how to shoot it, but I think you should.”
“Jonah, even if they did come here, I’m not going to shoot my own parents.” I laugh at the thought.
“Well, I probably fucking would,” he mutters, rubbing his chin.
“Let’s just be happy about this, okay?” I try to keep the note of pleading out of my voice and fail spectacularly. “I just want tobask in the joy of knowing that for once in my damn life, I beat them at something.”
“You’re right,” he says automatically, though I still see a gleam of ire in his eyes—not for me, though. God help my parents if they ever meet Jonah. “Why don’t we celebrate this weekend? We could get an early dinner at the Eighteen-Hundred House. It just opened, but my parents enjoyed it. And then there’s another open mic night at the Horseshoe.”
“That all sounds perfect! I might even order something new to wear online.” Jonah opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him. “I know, I know. I have enough clothing. But I want something special if we’re celebrating.”
“I wasn’t going to say shit about your clothes, honey, I swear. I was going to ask whether or not you wanted to sing with me at the open mic.”
