“I have been doing your hair for twenty years,” Alaina shoots back. “I taught Kate how to do it.”
“She’s not lying,” Eliza—aka Kate—says with a smile. “You’re in good hands.”
“Oh, fine,” Gladys mutters. The two of them continue to cackle as Eliza and I make our way into the back room with our food.
“Thank God,” she says as we sit down to eat. “I really was starving.”
“You mean Gladys wasn’t just being dramatic?” I tease. Because if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that Gladys is always dramatic.
Eliza shakes her head, fully aware of that, and I laugh.
We pull out our sandwiches, a ham and Swiss with extra pickles for her and an egg salad on white for me. After we both take a bite, I hear her giggle.
“God, look at us. Eating country food like a bunch of old ladies.”
“I heard that!” Alaina barks from the other room.
We both laugh.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I hate to say it, but I kind of like it here.”
“It’s definitely different,” she admits. “But it’s not the worst. Better than the neighborhood we grew up in.”
“God, don’t remind me. That street has gone so far downhill, anything is better than that.”
Eliza chews pensively. I can tell she’s thinking about something, deciding if she wants to say it. I’m close to all three of my siblings, but my relationship with her has always been a bit different. More sisterly than motherly. Even though I am a bit older than her, I still feel like we’re on the same level.
Growing up with grit will do that to you. I see it in all of them, not to mention myself.
“C’mon, girl. Spit it out.”
“Am I that easy to read?” she asks.
“Not as easy as Bella’s layers of kohl, but yes.”
She smiles, but it fades a little.Uh-oh.Whatever it is, it’s actually bothering her.
“Have you… talked to him?”
My smile fades too.
“Of course not,” I answer quickly. Maybe too quickly, because her eyes flash up to mine as she tries to read my expression.
“Have you thought about it?” she presses.
I chew harder. “If you’re asking if I’ve thought about him at all… sure. I mean, we were together, even if it was in a complicated kind of toxic sort of way.”
“Kind of toxic?” she asks. We keep our voices low so the hens around the corner don’t hear us, although I’m sure they talk. They must have all sorts of theories on why we moved here. Why four siblings are living in a little rental together.
Why the oldest one is pregnant and single.
I guess that’s one of the only things that sucks about moving to such a small town. I feel the eyes on me, eyes that are judging my situation. Rumors mill about and then fizzle before another theory is formed. The last I heard, people are saying that the baby’s father is deployed. A Marine. I decided that’s not bad as rumors go. At least it doesn’t make me into the town harlot.
“You’re also pregnant with his baby.” She mouths the words to keep her voice extra low.
As if I don’t know.
“It’s complicated,” I say, and that’s that.
