Chapter 7
SEVEN
“I sit next to Hallie!” Emma yells when Mrs. King announces that dinner is ready, and we all start moving toward the dining room.
“I’m sure your grandma has the table how she wants it, Em,” I say, but Mrs. King hip bumps Emma and winks.
“Already got you two girls next to one another. Madden, you’re next to your brother tonight.”
Madden groans because when Wren is home, it’s usually Wren, me, and Madden, with Jesse and Emma on the other side of the long table, but since Wren isn’t here, it seems Mrs. King and Emma have new plans.
For the past year, I’ve dreaded sitting across from Jesse, but things seem to be a bit easier between us since I’ve started helping out at his house, so for the first family dinner I can remember, I don’t feel that nervous energy of having to sit across from him.
We’ve shared casual updates about our lives, with everyone telling Mr. and Mrs. King about the best and worst parts of their weeks, a tradition they began long before I started joining these dinners, when Mr. King speaks.
“Jess, make sure you put the plow on your truck sometime before the storm comes on Tuesday.”
I groan out a sigh. “A storm is coming?”
Mr. King looks at me with a hint of confusion, and I have to assume it’s a storm that he, and probably the rest of the town, has been tracking for a bit. Unfortunately, I am more of a fly by the seat of my pants and see what the weather is when I wake up kind of girl.
Mr. King, who would probably be prepared if an apocalypse hit, can never quite understand when I say I don’t foresee things like massive storms coming, but looking ahead in the forecast only makes you think about the bad. I’d rather every day just be a fun surprise.
“A big one,” he says. “Nor’easter. Could get eighteen, twenty inches.”
I scrunch my nose with irritation. Typically, a snow day wouldn’t be that big of a deal: I’d stay home, watch shitty movies, make soup, and dilly-dally until the streets are plowed.
But this week, I’m helping Jesse with Emma, and when a storm hits, Jesse has a lot on his plate since he picks up odd jobs plowing around town and has to ensure everything is okay here on the farm.
Mrs. King could probably take over, but I know she’ll be busy making sure Mr. King is safe out on the property, and the last thing I want is for Wren to come back from her trip and find out I added to the stress instead of easing it.
“Do you mind if I spend the night in Wren’s old room on Wednesday night?
” I ask Mrs. King, knowing it’s what Wren would do if she were watching Emma this week, wanting to stay close but knowing getting home would be too risky.
“That way, I don’t have to worry about getting home after watching Emma if the snow is crazy. ”
“Of course not,” she says with a smile and a shake of her head. “I’ll make sure it’s all good for you.”
“No need, really. I just need a bed to sleep in.” She rolls her eyes at my dismissal, which is expected.
“You also could just stay home,” Jesse says. “Emma could have a sleepover with Mom.”
“Dad, no!” Emma whines. “We have to keep working on our makeup and cooking lessons!”
Jesse turns to his daughter, frustration evident on his face.
He mentioned he’s been butting heads with her a lot, which, from spending a few days with her, I can understand—especially since he and Emma are complete opposites in personality.
To try and prevent the coming argument, I drape my arm around her shoulders and pull her in close.
When she looks at me, irritation fades into disappointment, softening something in my chest.
Wren has told me there’s a history of her mom making promises she never keeps, so I tread that line carefully.
“No need to pout, Em. Even if, for some reason, it doesn’t work, I can come one day this week.
I promise to make it up to you, but there’s no need to give anyone else a hard time, especially your dad, who is trying to make sure I stay safe.
” Jesse looks at me from across the table, and relief and appreciation are written clear across his face.
I give him a wink, feeling like we’re on a secret team right now, working together to keep Emma happy.
He gives me a slight nod before looking down at his plate again.
“Okay,” Emma grumbles, then picks up her roll and takes a much larger-than-polite bite, but I don’t mention it.
“You should just move into my old place,” Madden says, waving a fork in my direction. “You keep bitching about living next to Colt, and the house is just sitting there.”
“I don’t bitch,” I say, glaring at Madden.
He gives me wide, disbelieving eyes. “Sure you don’t.”
“I don’t!” I repeat, balling up a napkin and throwing it at him. It hits him in the nose and falls into his lap, making Emma giggle. “I occasionally complain, the same way Wren would if she were stuck living in a house with paper-thin walls right next to you.”
“It’s not like you’re bringing home anyone where the thin walls would actually matter,” he mumbles, a smirk playing on the edges of his lips like he knows that’s going to annoy me.
This is our way: teasing and taunting and irritating until one of us cracks and we start laughing so loud and hard, neither of us can breathe.
“I’m sorry that I’m not constantly out looking for some—” I start, but Mrs. King cuts off our bickering in a smooth, practiced move she’s used a hundred times.
“That’s actually a good idea, Madden. Hallie, you’re here nearly every day anyway, so it would probably save you gas money,” she says. “You absolutely should move in there.”
I stare at her with wide eyes and shake my head. “No, no. I really couldn’t. That’s…that’s not necessary.”
“I disagree. It makes perfect sense to me,” Mr. King adds, and the panic in my chest builds.
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to impose,” I say, knowing I’ve imposed on the Kings more times over my life than I’d like to admit.
Mr. King shakes his head. “No, no, it wouldn’t be an imposition at all. That building is just sitting there! Hell, I’d actually feel better having someone there. It would make me feel less silly about building it.”
“And I’d feel better about having you close! I love having all of my kids close by,” Mrs. King says with a broad, genuine grin that strikes me in my chest.
There were a few buildings on the King property other than the farm, office, storage barn, and a small retail shop at the base of the farm: the main house where we are now, the one that was built for Jesse and Emma, and a second, smaller home intended for Madden that now lies vacant.
From what I understand, they were also going to build a small house for Wren, but they learned she would be inheriting her grandmother’s home and figured Wren would enjoy that more.
Mr. and Mrs. King love having all of their kids close, and since they have the means and the land, they have done what they can to ensure that.
Never in a million years did I think I would be included in that.
“I don’t—”
“Madden just said you’re not loving living with Colt, and Wren told me you were looking for a new place, right?”
I mentally shake my fist at my best friend, who listened to my whine about living in the split home with my brother, who is incredibly nosy and has no concept of personal space—something that says a lot when coming from me.
Two weeks ago, I was telling her that the sheer number of times he’s come over without knocking and almost walked in on me having a date with my vibrator is honestly getting obscene, and she was laughing so hard, tears were coming down her cheeks.
“I mean…” I hesitate, unsure of what to say. “Yes, but—”
“So it’s settled. You’ll move in,” Mrs. King states with a grin.
I open my mouth, looking around the table for a single person to vouch that this is crazy, but find none.
“I really don’t think this is necessary,” I say with a laugh. If it were any other family, I could laugh it off and move on, but this is the King family, and I know if any of them get an idea in their head, they’ll be going for it within twenty-four hours.
“It makes total sense, Hallie. I mean, you’re here more than Madden even is,” Mr. King says, sending a glare to his son.
“I never asked you to build me that house,” Madden grumbles.
“Plus, you could help more with me!” Emma adds.
I turn to give her a soft smile, latching on to the one piece of leverage I might have.
It’s not that I wouldn’t love to live closer to where I work or to the Kings, since I love them all completely.
It’s that I’ve learned my lesson over and over not to ask too much of anyone because when I do, they get tired of me.
The second I become too much work for someone, they begin distancing themselves from me, and losing the Kings would absolutely destroy me.
“I love hanging with you, but I also don’t know if your dad—” I start, looking to Jesse for help, but he also surprises me.
“It would be a help, honestly,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders, and for a moment, a look of shock crosses his face, like even he isn’t sure why he said it.
Still, he doesn’t backtrack. “I like to make sure there’s someone there to get her off the bus, but it’s not fair to always rely on my mom, so a lot of the time I have her walk over to Wren’s after school, who has to drive her up here. ”
I bite my lip, knowing this is true and desperately wanting to encourage Wren to keep setting boundaries and putting herself first.
“I mean, I could easily get her off the bus, whether or not I’m living here. Most of the time I’m working in the office with Madden—” I start, which is true. Although I work for myself, I like working from the office at Three Kings so I don’t sit alone all day.
“You work from home some days, though, especially in the winter,” Madden adds, and when I turn to him, he has a smile on his face like he knows I’ve already long lost this battle and he’s happy about it.
“It would be an extra drive when there might be ice or snow on the ground. And the place is nice, Hal. Not too big, probably as big as the duplex. It’s perfect for you.
The kitchen is huge and faces the woods. ”
I scrunch my nose because he knows me too well. I like living in town, but I love the woods, especially the woods out here on the farm. Being able to wake up and look out my window at them every day would be a dream.
“I don’t—” I start again, though even I can hear the fight is gone from my voice.
“Jess, do you think Hallie could move in tomorrow?”
My eyes bug out. Tomorrow?! Before I can argue, though, Jesse is answering.
“Yeah, it should be good now, but I’ll double-check everything later.
I can show you tonight before you leave, if you’d like,” Jesse answers, looking across the table at me.
I glare at him, a traitor, especially considering that just two days ago, he could barely even stomach the sight of me.
Now he’s encouraging his family to move me in next door, basically.
“It’s settled. If you like the place, you can move in tomorrow,” Mrs. King says with an excited clap of her nails that are painted a pretty light green color with red tips for the holidays, a giddy grin on her face.
“I appreciate it, really, but I’m paying Colt rent for my half of the duplex—I can’t in good conscience—”
“And you can keep paying him until he finds someone to live there,” she replies with a shrug.
I narrow my eyes, already seeing where she’s going with this. “Mrs. King, I can’t afford double rent,” I start, and she shakes her head, confirming my fears.
“You’ll only be paying rent to Colt. And I told you, call me Mom. My god, you’ve basically been my kid for years. This Mr. and Mrs. King thing has to die eventually.”
Warmth fills me at the common argument, but I push it back, trying to stay focused, knowing her goal is to distract me. “I can’t live in Madden’s place and not pay—”
“If you try and tell me you want to pay rent, I’m going to be offended, Harriet Young.”
Mrs. King breaking out the full name makes me smirk a bit, but I force myself to stay focused. That fight isn’t one I’m going to win right now, but maybe I can table it.
“Okay. I’ll move in, but I’m not dropping the conversation about rent.”
“Yay! After dessert, Pete will give you the keys, and Jess will take you over to your new home. How exciting!” She claps her hands excitedly. “Now. Everyone, help me clean up. I’ve got an apple crostata waiting for everyone if things get cleared quickly!”
As I’ve witnessed happen a dozen times before, everyone at the table stands, moving efficiently to clean up the table, each person having their own task.
I gather the plates and scrape them, which is usually my and Wren’s job, and it’s not until I’m laughing with Emma as she steals a scoop of whipped cream off my plate that I realize she never agreed to talk to me about rent later.