“Good morning,” I greet calmly. We both know she’s not here for flowers, so I don’t even bother pretending. “What can I do for you today, Esther?”
There’s a harsh pinch to her mouth as she stares at me, looking nothing like the woman I grew to know last year. “I heard you were back,” she says stiffly. “But I have to admit that I was surprised.”
I tuck my hands into my apron, giving her a polite smile, wondering how so much could change so quickly. Esther invited me into her home, treated me like family. She made me feel like I was one of them, but as soon as Paisley turned up, everything changed.
“Why would you be surprised?” I ask curiously. “This is my home.”
Esther’s brows knit at that, but she quickly smooths it out into something more neutral. “Gracie, I like you, but you can’t go around blaming my daughter for problems in your relationship.”
It’s so out of left field that I can’t stop my eyes from flaring wide with shock. I wait a beat, turning the words over and over in my head, trying to make sense of them. “Is that what I did?” I venture, tilting my head to the side. “Because I’m pretty sure I placed the blame right where it was deserved.”
Esther straightens, white-knuckling her purse. “You can’t be serious,” she demands frostily. “You swore at Paisley for giving you a Christmas gift, and you’ve ruined our friendship with the Newports.”
“Esther,” I say slowly. “Have you ever given a woman perfume as a gift?”
Her chin jerks back like she didn’t expect the question. “What? No. Why would I? What does that have to do with?—”
“I just wondered if you gave Paisley the idea to give meherperfume, because I know you had to have given her the idea to bake for Braxton. Right?”
Esther’s face floods with color, her mouth opening and shutting. I’m not sure if her reaction is from me calling her out about the baking, or if she truly didn’t realize what Paisley gave me at Christmas.
Finally, her eyes harden. “None of that matters,” she states firmly. “You’re not used to living in a town like this one, but if you plan on staying”—there’s a lilt to her words, a demand masked as a question that I don’t bother answering—“then you need to play by the rules.”
“The rules,” I repeat slowly.
“Paisley feels like she can’t come home,” Esther blurts out furiously. “Mydaughterwas born in this town, and she feels like she’s no longer welcome here, and it’s because of you!”
I suck my cheek between my teeth, biting down hard. The pain grounds me enough that I can push the anger back, even when my hands start trembling in my pockets.
I inhale deeply through my nose and then blow it out before giving Esther a cutting smile. “Are you sure that doesn’t have anything to do with Paisley assaulting a drunk man with her mouth in public?”
You could have heard a pin drop, the silence damning. Esther’s eyes bug out, a vein throbbing in her forehead. “Paisly didnotassault anyone,” she snaps viciously, stepping closer to the counter and making me appreciate that barrier between us.
I make aneekexpression. “Oh, but she kind of did. And I heard that Nick punched Braxton that night, too. Not that I blame him, but guess that both your kids are two for two, huh?” I lean closer, lowering my voice like we’re sharing a secret. “Wonder what the town is saying aboutyoubecause of all that?”
Esther jerks her head back, looking like she just sucked on a lemon. “Look, Gracie, I like you?—”
“If this islike, I’ll give it a miss,” I mumble.
“—but you have to know that Paisley and Braxton have history. They’ve known each other their whole lives, and it’s only natural that feelings might grow from that.” Her mouth softens into a smile, her eyes almost dreamy. “Apparently, they just needed some time apart to really see what was in front of them. I understand it’s unfortunate timing for you, but isn’t it better it happened this way? Imagine if you had found out after you and Braxton bought that house together.”
“Esther,” I say firmly, “you should leave before you say something you can’t take back.” A low sound of unamused laughter leaves me. “In fact, it may be too late for that, because there’s no denying that you were fully aware of your daughter going after a taken man—possibly even giving her your blessing for it.”
She falls back a step, but her shoulders tense, her jaw going tight. “You and Braxton weren’t married. You weren’t even engaged.”
I scoff. “And that’s your line?” I lean my hands on the counter, staring at her derisively. “Was Joseph with someone else when you started showing up with your baskets of muffins and coconut balls, hm? Were you quite happy to steal him away from another woman because he wasn’ttechnicallytaken? After all, there’s something about a firefighter that makes the girls gocrazy, hm?” Each word is straight from Esther’s mouth, a conversation on Thanksgiving that she has probably forgotten we even had. “It was something that bugged me, hearing about how Paisley turned up at the fire station with muffins for Braxton. It was just such a familiar tale, you know?”
Esther can’t hold my stare, her eyes sliding away from mine, and it feels like an admittance of guilt.
I shake my head, clucking my tongue. “Ilikedyou, Esther.” She flinches, but I’m past caring. “But you’re right. It’s better that it happened like this. I won’t fight for a man who doesn’t fight for me, and I definitely don’t need people likeyouand your daughter in my life.” My smile is tight, uncompromising. “You can go now.”
“Gracie—”
I hold a hand up to her. “No. You don’t get to come into my workplace and tell me that I did anything wrong whenmyboyfriend climbed intomybed smelling ofyourdaughter.” I laugh again, but the sound is brittle, every remembered hurt surging back in like it just happened. “Honestly, Paisley giving me that same perfume as a Christmas present? It’s actually unhinged.”
It’s a credit to how focused we are on each other that neither of us hears the door open or the bell chime. But we do hear the choked sound before a familiar voice demands, “What?”
Esther and I both turn as one to face Braxton, standing a few feet away, his face pale as a sheet and his mouth gaping wide.
