She holds her brows high, eyes challenging me.
“Thirty-eight,” I grumble.
“That’s not so bad,” she sighs.
“Easy for you to say. You’re light years away from being as old and cunty as I am.”
She laughs again, and the fact that she can recover so quickly from the emotional ordeal she’s been through today heals something in me.
“I have hope for you yet, old lady.”
“I might be a lost cause, but that’s a story for another day.” Taking a deep breath, I get back on track. “You won’t be gone long, right?”
“I need to refill my tank and empty my gray water,” she says, like it’s an answer.
“Your what now?”
“My gray water.”
My blank stare must inform her that I have no fucking clue what she’s talking about.
“The shit water.”
My face pulls in disgust. “Oh, that’s fucking disgusting.”
I step back from the van on instinct, like the shit water is just going to spill out and get on my sneakers. These are the only shoes I have to wear at the restaurant, I don’t wanna get them nasty.
Amelia gives a small laugh at my reaction. “I wasn’t ready to hit the road. My van wasn’t prepped. I can’t stay out long, I just had to get some space.”
I nod, bouncing my head rapidly. “Sure, yeah, that makes sense. Just, uh, can you keep in mind that Weston is a good guy?”
Her head drops down a bit and she takes a few steps, kicking the dirt.
“I know he is.”
“He wanted to make sure you were safe. None of us have been through what you have, I can’t even pretend to imagine what it’s like to be you. I’ll let you make your own conclusions onWest, but for what it’s worth, I don’t think he had any harmful intentions there.”
Amelia reaches down to pick up a small branch from the ground and throws it forcefully into the tree line along the edge of the lot.
“I know he didn’t.”
“It took a lot for him to let you do that on your own. You’re supposed to be a team now. Give the guy some credit.”
She huffs, maybe not ready for tough love yet. I don’t have many other modes, but I shoot my shot with one other path.
“Do you wanna talk about what happened? Any of it? The article? Your brother? Weston?”
She lets out a sigh so heavy her tiny shoulders drop.
“I probably need to take action on some of it, don’t I?” she asks me, like she values my input. That’s a fucking first for me.
Lucky for all of us, my sister has never not been prepared for what to do a day in her life and thoroughly briefed me on my drive.
“Rory thinks it might not be a bad idea to release your own version of your story at this point. She reached out to the team back at her firm and contacted the publicist they recommend to their clients. She even spoke with her already, and if you’re up for it we can call Rory together and she can make a transcript of whatever you want to say. We’ll run it through the publicist, get it out there to combat the bullshit these Snoopy fuckers are spreading.”
Amelia nods. “Yeah, I can do that. If everyone is already going to know my name, I’d rather they know my story too.”
That’s my girl.
