“Oh, it’s fine,” Georgia said breezily. “You may not believe it, given what she did to you, but she’s not a bad kid, not at her core. Spoiled by one parent, that would be my son,” she said flatly, “and all but abandoned by the other. When you look at the big picture, it’s not all that surprising she’s pulling the stunts she’s pulling.”
My curiosity was piqued and I couldn’t bring myself to ignore it. I wanted to know too badly, so I rested my forearms on the counter and asked, “What’s the story there? When she showed up at his office the day of my interview, she said she wasn’t Nate’s real daughter.”
Georgia let out an aggrieved huff. “That seems to be her thing lately, that and calling him Nate instead of Dad.”
Okay, even more curious now. “Why would she say something like that?”
Georgia didn’t hesitate to explain. “Evan was already two when Nate met her momma. The relationship was okay, probably would have fizzled had it not been for the girl. He fell for Evan long before falling for her mom. That’s why he stayed in it. That’s why he married her. And that’s why he didn’t divorce her a year into the marriage like he should have. Adopted her the moment he was legally bound to her mother, already had the papers drawn up and everything before the wedding was completely planned.”
My heart did a little flip, and I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until the burn in my lungs grew too painful to ignore. I didn’t want to see the guy in a different light. I was comfortable with the one currently shining on him. By keeping him tucked into the slot designated for asshole bosses, I could sometimes forget that he was the guy I’d had headboard-rattling, bedframe-breaking sex with. But I felt myself softening toward him after hearing Georgia’s story, and that was not good.
Fortunately, I was saved from having to overthink the shit out of everything when the girl in question came around the corner that led to the back. “Grandma, I finished the stockroom. What else do—” She jerked to a stop the moment she lifted her eyes and spotted me, her skin flushing a deep pink from her neck to her cheeks. “Uh—I—You—”
I couldn’t help but smile at her nervous fumbling. “Hey there, Shawshank. How’s it going? Commit any felonies lately?”
Her eyes went so wide I could actually see the blue of them beneath all that inky eyeliner. Studying her just then, really studying her for the first time, I could tell, beneath the makeup and the bad attitude, Evan Warren was a cute girl; cute enough that her dad was going to have some sleepless nights when he finally started letting her date. And in a few short years, she’d be a beautiful woman. She just needed someone to guide her hand when it came to cosmetics. At the moment, however, she looked like an adorable little bunny in the middle of the road, about to be flattened by an oncoming truck. “Um, I don’t—that is—”
“Oh, you knock it off.” Georgia laughed and batted my arm. “You’re going to give the poor girl a coronary at fourteen.”
I smiled at the skittish kid and shook my head. “I’m just messing with you. You said you got that stockroom in order?”
She shifted from foot to foot, tugging nervously at the hem of the maroon Warren’s General Store smock she wore over her clothes. “Um, yeah—yes. Yes ma’am.”
I let out whistle. “Impressive. I’ve seen that room, and I know it was a disaster. You got it done fast.”
The flush remained in her cheeks as she ducked her head and bit her lip to fight back her grin. “Yeah, it was pretty bad,” she mumbled, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.
Figuring it was time to cut the kid some slack, I turned back to Georgia and announced, “Well, my bathtub is calling. I should grab that wine and head on home.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll ring you up just as soon as I give Evan here her next task.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw the girl’s shoulders droop in relief now that she knew I wasn’t sticking around, and that time, I was the one ducking my head and biting my lip to fight back a smile.
* * *
Evan
I didn’t realizeI’d been staring at the door Ms. Copeland had exited, lost in my own head, until my grandmother tapped my shoulder and jolted me back into realty. “You okay, sweetie? I said your name three times.”
My cheeks warmed at being caught. “Sorry. Guess I was lost in a daze.”
She reached up and pressed her palm to my cheek. Grandma had always been so nice. From the first moment I met her and Grandpa, they’d treated me like I was their own flesh and blood, so the fact that I’d disappointed them by doing what I’d done to Ms. Copeland’s car made me sick for days. Every time I thought about the looks on their faces when the sheriff had pulled me into their store, my eyes burned and welled up. It was bad enough, disappointing my dad, but them too? I’d felt like even worse crap than I had when Dad came to pick me up after we’d crashed Kelsey’s mom’s car. He’d rushed in, his face all white and panicked, worried I’d been hurt. I felt terrible after that, but this had been even worse.
“You know her pretty well, right?” I asked, tipping my head toward the exit. “Ms. Copeland, I mean. You’re friends?”
Grandma laughed that bubbly, cheerful laugh that always made me smile. “I might be a little too old to call myself her friend, but yes, I know her very well. We’re very close.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, as I looked back outside. “So... she’s cool then? I mean, if you and Grandpa like her so much, she must be okay.”
She seemed okay just a few minutes ago. She’d smiled when she saw me come around the corner, and it wasn’t a nasty smile. It had seemed genuine. I wasn’t sure who Shawshank was, but I got the impression she’d been joking with me. Then she’d told me I did a good job for finishing the stockroom as fast as I did. After what I’d done, the fact she could be nice like that, she had to be cool. Which only made me feel worse for keying her car.
“Oh, Luna’s wonderful. Kind-hearted, funny, sweet.” She gave me a serious look. “That’s how I know she’ll most definitely forgive you if you apologize to her.”
That burn came back to my eyes, and I dropped my head to hide behind my hair.
“Oh, sweetie.” Grandma took my face in her hands, forcing me to look up at her. “I know your life’s been hard recently. The divorce, then your momma shipping you off.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue, and I got the feeling that maybe my mom wasn’t her favorite person. What I didn’t say out loud was that the feeling was mutual. As much as she hurt me, as much as the last things she’d said to me made me cry, I was scared to tell Dad or my grandparents any of it. She was still my mom, and the thought of them hating her made me sick to my stomach.
“You’ve had to deal with a lot. But I promise you, it gets better. Take it from someone who’s lived it and knows, the bumps always smooth out eventually. You just have to grit your teeth and push on.”
I let out a sigh and got back to work—or punishment, more like it—thinking that I sure hoped she was right and things would start to smooth out soon.