“What’s her game?” he asks, grunting in annoyance. I hum in agreement. My sentiments exactly.
“Fuck if I know,” I admit honestly, shrugging again. “But I can’t take the chance of her getting pissy and trying to pull some shit. I think she’s panicking because she’s realizing she’s going to have to pay child support if I get full custody like planned. I’m worried she’s going to pull some shady shit to try and get out of it. I don’t trust her.”
“I don’t blame you,” Joel mutters, sighing. “You’re doing great, by the way. I know I don’t tell you often enough, man. But, I hope you know how lucky those girls are to have you. This too shall pass, brother. It might pass like a kidney stone, but it’ll pass.”
I grimace at the thought and an involuntary shudder runs through me. Urgh.No fucking thank you.
Clapping me on the back, Joel squeezes my shoulder once, and we look at each other. “See you at Mom’s?”
Nodding, I push away from the counter. “If I don’t see that ugly mug at a call before then, yes.”
“We all know I’m the pretty brother,” he mutters, shaking his head as he follows me out.
I only grunt at him in response, because the smug bastard isn’t wrong.
Seven
Louise
“You do realize it’s still almost eighty degrees out, right?”
Tessa sticks her tongue out at me as she carries another tote of fall décor through the doors of the main barn at Bliss Garden. She’s decked out in a full fall ensemble; a long, black, tiered peasant skirt with a slit clear up the right thigh, chunky knit sweater in a deep burgundy red, black combat boots, and a wafer-thin black scarf wrapped around her neck.
I’m roasting just looking at her.
“It’sfall,” she hisses, setting the tote down on the floor and shoving her red rimmed glasses back up the bridge of her nose. Her signature red lip stain is in place, as usual.
“It’s the second week of September andeighty degrees, Tess—” I argue.
My sister waves her hands, dismissing my argument. “It’s fall. I’m protesting.”
I roll my eyes but don’t bother arguing any further. If she wants to sweat to death, by all means. It’s too hot to argue, anyway.
A pair of cutoff jean shorts have ridden far too high up the insides of my thick thighs, and I pull them down for the billionth time tonight. A cropped tank top in a light, lavender purple is keeping me plenty cool while we work. My long hair has been secured back into two Dutch braids that are falling over my shoulders every time I move, but at least it’s off my neck.
Tess had very graciously volunteered us to bring in all the fall décor to get started on our prep for all of the fall festivities starting next week. But it means that it’s one less thing on Darci’s plate, so I’m more than happy to help.
And in Northern Michigan, once September hits, it’s fall. Even if the weather hasn’t gotten the memo to drop the temperatures, yet.
My favorite barista even messaged me earlier this week to tell me—on the downlow, shhh—when they’re releasing my favorite pumpkin cream cold brew…Thank you, Carol.
I will be first in line with absolutelyzeroshame. And a nice, fat tip in thanks. My girl, doing the Lord’s work.
Just don’t tell Tessa. Because then she’ll recruit my ass for her ‘all things fall’ protest, and I amnotchanging in my flip flops and tank tops until I absolutely have to.
Willow and Livare unpacking the totes and organizing everything based on what area of the gardens each piece will be used. Basic fall décor for now, and then closer to Halloween Tess will switch everything out for more traditional Halloween décor.
I was fairly certain Mom was going to have an aneurism the day Dad and Tess had brought back not one, not two, butfourtwelve-foot-tall skeletons from Home Depot. Each October since, they’ve stood proudly on either side of the arched gate entrance, welcoming our guests. It had been Dad’s idea to light up plastic pumpkin candy buckets from the inside with string lights and hang them from each of the skeleton’s hands.
That had started the tradition of dressing them all in costumes.
Every year, Mom humors the grandkids and handmakes giant Halloween costumes for the four of them. One year, they were characters from Harry Potter, complete with wizard hats, robes, wands, and one dementor included. Another year, they were Disney villains. My personal favorite though, was the year we turned them all into the Village People and had them doing the YMCA. Dad thought it was brilliant.
We also host a ‘Trunk or Treat’ on Halloween, with local businesses and families coming out to line the long drive and parking lot with decked out vehicles and buckets of candy to hand out. The barn is turned into a haunted house, we offer spiced cider, and apple and pumpkin donuts for anyone that comes out to join in the festivities. It’s mine and Tessa’s favorite event that Bliss Garden hosts.
Struggling to untangle a long length of orange string lights, Liv sits down in the center of the floor, letting her arms droop around her, the lights encircling her. Willow laughs, then takes her phone out to snap a picture. Liv’s kids, little towheaded blondes with hair just as curly as hers, are running around the currently empty barn, dancing through the sunbeams streaming in through the windows high above us.
“My arms are tired,” she laughs, shoulders slumping. “Who put these away last? This whole bin is a complete rat’s nest of lights. This is just pure evil. Its anarchy incarnate.”
