CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Danica
“I’ve never been on a date,” I whined to my cousins.
We were in Gabrielle’s bedroom, since it was the biggest, and I was trying on different outfits.
Naomi and Raina brought some of their clothes that they thought I might like, and I brought the three dresses to my name.
They lounged on Gabrielle’s bed while I criticized every lump, bump, and roll as I stared at myself in the mirror. “How do I even do this?”
“You keep doing what you’ve been doing since you met him, because that’s obviously what prompted him to ask you to dinner in the first place,” Naomi said, her hand propping up her head as she lay on her side. “And also, you don’t wear baby-pink, because pastels absolutely wash you out.”
Gabrielle and Raina nodded.
“Don’t even bother trying on that light-green dress,” Gabrielle added. “Just toss it onto that chair. We’ll make that the ‘definitely not’ pile.”
Rolling my eyes, I peeled out of the pale-pink slip dress Naomi had brought over, until I was in just my nude bra and matching panties.
“Should I wear fancy underwear? Is he going to expect sex?” Worry made my fingers tremble as I grabbed the plum-colored dress off the pile and yanked it over my head.
“I don’t own fancy underwear. The fanciest I own is a matching set of black with a little bow at the front.
” Smoothing the dress down my sides, I spun around in the mirror to check out the disaster.
“Ooh, I like that,” Raina said. “The purple makes your eyes go pow! Us green-eyed girls always look sexy in dark-purple.” She gave me a wink, then took a sip of tea from her mug.
“What if this isn’t even a date?” I spun around to the side to check to see if any rolls or weird lumps showed from the back.
I wasn’t like Gabrielle. I didn’t get up every morning to do Pilates.
I liked my sleep, and I liked my carbs. Was I fat?
No. But I wasn’t skinny. I was what you would call “athletically curvy.” I had hips, tits, and an ass, and while my waist was narrow, I think that was just genetics, because I certainly didn’t do anything to keep it that way.
“It’s a date,” they all said at the same time.
“I really liked that one,” Gabrielle said. “It hugs you in all the right places and accentuates your great tits, narrow waist, and big, juicy booty.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, and she grinned. “What? You’ve got a big, juicy booty, and it deserves to be celebrated.”
“I’d celebrate if I had an ass like yours,” Naomi said. “I’d throw a party. A ‘Look at My Great Ass’ party.”
“Try on the black one,” Raina encouraged.
“But put the purple one in the ‘maybe’ pile.” Gabrielle pointed to the silky, gray, sleeveless blouse and navy pencil skirt that we all agreed didn’t look horrific on me, but certainly weren’t showstoppers either.
After trying on all the outfits in the pile—minus the pastels—we decided that the purple dress from Raina was the clear winner.
It hid my least favorite parts of my body and accentuated the better parts.
Then came the disaster of figuring out what to do with my hair and whether I should wear makeup.
I had no makeup. I never wore it, and didn’t see the point in owning it if I wasn’t going to wear it.
Blessed with a fairly clear complexion, I had a drawer full of various flavored lip glosses, but even the ones with a little tint to them made me feel like I was too made up and gearing up to pose for Vogue.
“I’ll do your hair, and Gabs will do your makeup,” Raina said as I shimmied out of the purple dress after trying it on again. “Don’t worry. This date will go great.”
“How’s Sam doing with that bully, Clyde?” Gabrielle asked. We convened in her kitchen, all leaning against various counters and cradling our mugs of lukewarm tea.
I snapped my fingers. “Oh my god! I totally forgot to tell you guys—”
“Because she’s too busy fantasizing about Mr. Moneybags,” Naomi interjected.
All I did was flip her the bird. “Clyde is Otto Pickford’s grandson.”
Jaws dropped around the kitchen.
“Shut. Up,” Raina finally said. “How do you know?”
“Because Tom’s donkey, Pinata, escaped and ran next door and started eating Brenda’s tulips. The door opened, and Clyde was apparently there. Then he called for ‘grandpa’ and who should come to the door but Otto.”
“Holy shit,” Naomi breathed. “That explains so much about that little monster and why he gets away with murder.”
“And why his parents won’t return your calls or messages,” Gabrielle added, shaking her head.
“They also believe their child is untouchable, and therefore, don’t believe he should be held accountable for his actions.
Everything is everyone else’s fault.” She sucked in a deep breath through her nose. “God, I hate people.”
“Can we just stop and take a moment to fully picture, and then laugh about the fact that a donkey escaped, ran to Brenda Pickford’s, and ate her tulips?” Raina asked, giggling. “Because that’s pretty fucking hilarious.”
Smiles crept onto all of our faces as the image took shape. Brenda Pickford was a miserable woman, and if anybody deserved to have a donkey eat their tulips, it was Brenda.
“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person,” Naomi said.
“So how are you going to use this information?” Gabrielle asked. “Because you can’t just sit on it. The favoritism needs to be brought to light. If we can take down Otto and get him removed from his position as school principal, then all the better, if you ask me.”
“I’m going to let you spearhead that endeavor.
” I grabbed her electric kettle and filled it up with more water at the sink since I already knew the answer to whether we all wanted more tea or not.
“I’m going to support my daughter and help her navigate the last few months of school with this hellion.
But now that I know where he lives, you can bet your butt I’ll be knocking on their door to get them to answer me. ”
My cousins smirked.
“When you do, can I come watch?” Raina asked.
I gave her a soft glare as I set the kettle back down on the counter and hit the “on” button.
“What?” she asked, flicking her dark-red hair over her shoulder. “You’re the most mild-mannered out of all of us. I’d love to see Danica St. Claire rip someone a new asshole.”
Naomi snorted and then reached for the Tupperware container on the island and opened it. “Gingersnap?”
“Yeah, Laurel and Maverick made them,” Gabrielle said.
Naomi took a bite of the cookie. “Speaking of your sexy baby hockey player—”
Gabrielle cringed. “Gross.”
“Speaking of the younger man, who is a famous hockey player, where is he today?”
“He’s over at Bonn Remmen’s land with Jagger and the rest of the McEvoys talking about plans,” Gabrielle said. “He offered to go as our proxy since we were busy helping you.” She gave me a wink. “First dates—ever—are a big deal.”
Well, that made me more emotional than I was expecting but also instantly made me think about the date again, and all the nervousness I felt about it. “What if he’s expecting sex?” I asked.
“Then you can kick him in the olives and tell him to fuck off.” Raina reached for a cookie. “Nobody should expect sex. Have we not learned anything from our pasts?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“If you’re not ready, don’t do it. But do you honestly think that he will, A.
pressure you? B. expect it on the first date?
Or C. toss you out on your juicy ass if you turn him down?
” Gabrielle grabbed a cookie too, so not to be left out.
I grabbed one as well and let the ginger and cinnamon work like a magical potion to ease my mounting worry.
“I don’t think any of those things—really,” I finally said, cupping my hand under my chin to catch some crumbs. “But I can’t stop my brain from chucking them at me anyway. Tom is so respectful. So kind. And I’m not sure he’s been on a date, or with anyone, since his wife passed away.”
“There you go.” Raina went to Gabrielle’s tea cupboard and pulled down the box of various teas.
“No more caffeine for you,” she said to me, tossing me a peppermint and chamomile blend.
“You’re both going to go into this date total noobs, probably knock teeth when you kiss, and it’ll be gloriously awkward and wonderful at the same time.
You’ll only be able to improve from there. ”
“That doesn’t give me much reassurance.”
The front door opened and in poured the children.
Damon—Gabrielle’s fourteen-year-old son—was homeschooled now, so he spent a lot of time in his room doing his homework, or editing Maverick’s podcasts for him.
The rest of the children though, all went to the same school, where Otto Pickford was of course, principal.
They took the bus home together. Unless, of course, Marco wanted to hang out with the McEvoy kids, then he got off the bus with them at their place.
But all the kids were home today, and they quickly zeroed in on the open container of cookies. Austin, Naomi’s twelve-year-old son—who was slightly feral, but in all the best possible ways—smacked his lips together playfully. “I see cookies.”
His mother rolled her eyes and slid the container closer to him and the rest of the kids. “How was your day?”
Laurel shook her head in disgust. “Principal Pickford took us all into a room together and—”
“Wait, what?” my cousins and I all said at the same time.
Laurel glanced at Sam, who inched her way closer to me, then met my gaze. “He kicked sand into my eyes on the playground,” Sam said, blinking and then rubbing at her eyes—which, now that I noticed, were very red. “Then he did it to Honor and Laurel too.”
Gabrielle and Naomi each grabbed their daughters by the face to inspect their eyes.