Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Britney
As I stepped into my room, which I’d always assumed was turned into a sewing room or a man cave or even an exercise room, I realized it was exactly what I remembered. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that because I’d been sure they would toss everything related to me.
My bedsheets were black. My earrings were all silver and still on my old wooden vanity. And my secret door was full of NSYNC, Backstreet, and One Direction photos though in front of them was Amy Winehouse. I’d thought if I could have dark hair like hers, my life would somehow be tragic.
My hairs stood on end as I remembered my conflicted teenage years while the door closed behind me. I turned and faced the sexy, sweet, tall muscular guy beside me and said, “This is embarrassing.”
He passed Amy and stood at the closet door. “You were into boy bands. It’s cute.”
I rubbed my neck. “I figured they’d burn everything here.”
My full-size bed wasn’t going to be comfortable to sleep in. I doubted Michael’s legs would even fit.
“Why?” he asked.
I took a deep breath and remembered we’d agreed to having no sex, which was probably good since I was hearing guests in the backyard. Everyone there was acting like the weekend was the same as one twenty years ago, and I had goosebumps.
“Because they always took Ava’s side,” I said.
I closed my eyes and hugged him. His sense of calm was a rock that I needed. As the hug ended, the sound of guests and people in the backyard grew. He peeked out the plastic blinds and said, “I want to go help Billy if that’s okay.”
And win over my family in the process. I nodded since I needed to figure out how we were going to either sleep there or get out of there. “Go.”
He kissed my cheek and left.
I collapsed on the bed, which had still had Britney Spears’s perfume sitting on the nightstand next to it.
I’d doused myself with it as a teen and laughed.
Even as a teen, I’d been two sided—edgy, dark, and standoffish on one side but wanting to bounce and dance to boy bands when no one was around.
I squirted some on, and memories came back.
I shook off the trip down memory lane and headed outside.
In the backyard was my family and the sound of beer cans being opened as people laughed.
I took a deep breath and realized the day wasn’t horrible. As I stepped outside, I saw Michael working the grill, and he waved at me.
Somehow he fit in there, and my heart was stirred.
I went to grab him a bottle of water as the weather was hot, and Ava came up beside me and said, “So you’re marrying nobility, sis. Does he know how you dated half the boys in high school?”
I flinched. The major difference between me and the fictional characters I idolized was that I was way more discerning when it came to whom I brought home.
I met my sister’s gaze and asked, “You actually believed those lies?”
She smiled, seeming very relaxed. “You never denied it before.”
“You never asked me about anything.”
“I was always dealing with the fires you started.”
“You were the one that cared what people thought about you. Why did you do drugs that night?”
She flinched. “You never asked.”
“Ha. I already said that to you.”
She closed her eyes. “I had all this pressure to be perfect, and you acted like my life didn’t matter, ever.”
“It just wasn’t my life.” I hugged my waist as I stood taller. “When you’re known as the bad sister, you don’t get much of a defense.”
She sighed. “Why were we always fighting as kids? You’re pretty honest, which is pretty rare in this world.”
Since Ava wasn’t letting up, I met her gaze and refused to blink. “Because you were perfect, and there was no competition for that. So all I had was the head on my shoulders.”
She shook her head. “You were the smart one even when we were little. I had to work to get the grades that you could have gotten while sleeping.”
My eyes widened. I’d never thought about Ava looking at me in any positive way after I’d found out she snorted drugs with some band member’s guitar’s pick. “That’s not true.”
But I wasn’t the one who tried anything other than alcohol, socially.
She was still perfect, her blond hair in a bun as she watched her children. “It is. It’s how you became as successful as you are and how you’re now dating a gorgeous man like that.”
Michael glanced at me, and my heart thundered. He was wonderful and super down-to-earth. I served a round of burgers to the children. Ava’s husband was making the plates and manning the condiments.
“Billy’s nice,” I said.
She shrugged. “Billy’s a good guy. He’s my best friend since forever, but yours is right out of a fantasy. He even speaks like Mr. Darcy.”
I giggled and warmed as I said, “We watched that together, didn’t we?”
“We did though I preferred Mr. Knightly in Emma as they were friends first.”
So maybe my home life wasn’t as bad as I remembered.
I had just been out of place. I took a deep breath and realized Ava could be more like one of my friends.
“I’m more nervous about meeting his parents as I have visions of disapproving royals who might want my head for stealing one of their theirs from them. ”
She held up my hand and said, “Even if they turn out to be like Lady Catherine de Bourgh, so what? You’ve got the ring on your hand, and you can just steal him back to America, where they’ll never see him again.”
A full laugh escaped me as I imagined that very scene from the miniseries with me instead. Tears formed in my eyes, and I shook my head and said, “Stop! But maybe you’re right.”
She side hugged me. “Relax. I’m sure it’s not going to be that bad. She can’t be half as passive-aggressive as our mom.”
I asked her, “So why did you start being nice to me just now?”
She stood taller, and as she spoke, I felt like we were transported back to being children sitting together in the living room.
“I… am proud of everything you do in New York,” she said. “When my kids are high on sugar and my husband’s sitting around, drinking a beer and watching the games with our dad, I sometimes fantasized about leaving all this and running to you as you’re clearly fancy now.”
And I would send her new things so that she could have a little bit of Charlotte’s style as that had been her favorite character when we were kids.
“If you ever want to, just say the word,” I said.
She locked arms with me and asked, “What’s it like living like the women on Sex and the City ?”
For a second, she seemed to be reading my mind, but I knew she would never leave the life she clearly loved here. I inched closer to Michael to give him my hand as I said, “Not as glamorous as it seemed on TV though my friends have become my second family.”
She shrugged and walked out of the shade with me into the full-blown hot sun. “Or your first as I wasn’t that good. I’m still jealous of all your potential.” Ava was still the good daughter and wife and mother, while I wasn’t ever going to be her.
I turned and smiled at her. “There is nothing to be jealous of as you choose your life, but I should go help Michael.”
We hugged, and I promised myself I would send more gifts for her and not just the nephews. I walked to the blazing hot grill and handed Michael a water.
“Everything okay with you and your sister?” he asked.
I motioned for Billy to take over and tugged Michael away. “I’d forgotten she wasn’t always horrible. She wasn’t as critical as mom. She was more just oblivious to me.”
He gulped the water then said, “I promise my sister will not turn out to be our friend in the end.”
I held Michael’s arm and said, “I don’t expect her to.”
He smiled at me. “Good, but we do good work together.”
I raised my eyebrow and whispered, “And create cute babies together?”
His eyes widened. “Babies?”
Fuck. I tensed and looked down. “Just one. I was clearly not speaking right.”
He shrugged, the glimmer in his eyes making me feel lighter. “Who knows? Maybe it’s twins.”
I took a deep breath. “We should go to the next appointment together in a month. I’d been told normally the ob-gyn doesn’t see you till you’re eight weeks.”
“I knew it. You’re pregnant!”
I pivoted and saw my mother’s huge smile. I winced because she was worse than that blogger. She would tell everyone she’d ever met.
As she hugged us both, I said, “Mom, I didn’t see you there.”
She let us go and wiped tears from her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me that on the phone, sweetie?”
She’d never called me that in my life. I swiped my face too and said, “I can’t pretend everything is good in our life. I came home because I wished you loved me.”
She told my father, who then joined us. Then she said, “Now, that’s just the baby talking. I’m sure you’re fine as you always are.”
My father began, “And your boyfriend?—”
“Fiancé, honey,” my mother corrected him. “She’s trapped him?—”
“Mother, enough.”
My father nodded. “He’s doing right by her. And her fiancé can cook a great burger, better than Billy’s.”
Michael tensed. “Not bad for a spoiled English brat, then?”
At least my father was being nice. I stepped closer to Michael as we walked away from my mother’s toxicity. I wasn’t going to get my resolution, but Michael was more important.
“No one said that about you,” I said.
He gazed at me. “You were thinking it.”
My heart stopped. I’d avoided a relationship because of his money then tried to avoid him again because he had it. My parents had no idea.
I cupped his face and said, “Only when we first met, darling.”
He laughed and winked at me. “You’re starting to like your nickname, darling, or you’d not make fun of it.”
Billy put the rest of the burgers out, and I grabbed a plate and sashayed to the line.
“Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t,” I said. “I guess a lot depends on how this burger tastes.”
He laughed, and that sound went down my spine. “You must be having a boy with how carnivorous you’ve become.”
It was true. I used to love salads and tomatoes and more. But now, all I wanted was plain old meat.