Chapter 43
YEET THE PARENT
Ginny
My mother wakes me up.
I pinch my eyes shut tighter, ordering the dream to leave me alone, for her to get out of my subconscious, but she’s still yelling.
Yelling?
Talking loudly?
What—
I bolt upright in bed. What—two o’clock? How the hell is it two o’clock?
Flow whimpers and crawls closer to me while my brains slosh in my head like I’ve been drinking.
I haven’t though.
I haven’t had anything at all to drink since Caro’s wedding.
“Ginny?” Cricket says softly.
I gasp.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she says quickly from the corner of my room. “I—Mabel asked me to sit in here.”
My heart squeezes and I lunge for my phone, which isn’t where it’s supposed to be. “Declan—”
“Declan’s fine. He’s good. Cross my heart.”
She crosses my floor, still not spotless, but much cleaner than it has been, and sits on my bed with me. “You’re in the news again, but everything’s fine. Here. Coffee. It should still be warm. Do you want me to pour it in your mug?”
Oh no.
No, no, no.
If Mabel sent Cricket up with coffee in an insulated tumbler and the coffee mug Declan made me— “Caro? Ten?”
“Everyone’s fine.”
My mother’s voice drifts up the stairs again. “I demand to see my daughter. She needs her mommy.”
I flinch.
“Mabel’s handling it.” Cricket doesn’t wait for my answer on the coffee and instead pours it from the tumbler into the mug, then hands the mug to me.
Flow whimpers harder and crawls into my lap.
I take a sip while I look at my friend.
One of my sisters. Sisters of my heart.
“What—what did I do now?” I ask Cricket.
“Nothing.” She squeezes my arm. “But the world kinda knows now that you’re dating Declan and that he’s been filming a documentary here. Which means your mother knows. Actually, she might have started that rumor. We’re still looking for the original leak, but we’re pretty sure it was her. And—”
“She’s my daughter and she’s in trouble and she needs her mommy and I will see her right now.”
Flow howls.
Full-on howls, then leaps off the bed and dashes into the closet.
I hand Cricket the coffee mug and toss my sheets off.
“Fuck this,” I mutter. “I’m done.”
I throw on a pair of pajama shorts underneath Declan’s Minnesota T-shirt, then fling open the door.
Dori and Samantha are leaning against the opposite wall.
“She’s going to war,” Cricket says behind me.
“Here for you, Ginny,” Dori says.
“You tell us if there’s anything we can do, hon,” Samantha says.
I don’t register my feet touching the stairs.
Don’t see the wall of photos when I reach the bottom.
Don’t feel the handle when I fling the door open onto the front porch.
My mother’s so loud that her voice is carrying through the windows, carrying on about how everyone here lied to both her and me and how they don’t deserve me.
Playing the victim.
Centering herself as if my life is still hers to own.
“There you are,” she says as I push between Mabel and Olivia, who are blocking her from the top of the porch stairs. “Oh, my sweet angel. My poor dear. My other baby. Mommy’s here.”
“Mabel, call the sheriff,” I say. “Have this woman removed.”
“Already on their way,” Heath says.
“Ginny,” my mother says. “I’m here to help.”
“Give me your phone,” I tell her.
“Sweetheart, why on earth would—”
“Give. Me. Your. Phone.”
She angles away, confirming what I already know.
She’s recording this conversation.
Recording it to leak it.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” I say. “You leaked the news about Caro’s wedding.”
“Virginia. That documentarian that your friends lied to me about leaked the news. You heard him say it yourself.”
“You leaked it because you wanted the attention.”
“I would never.”
“You’d force your children to be on a reality show that destroyed our reputations, and you’d mishandle our money leaving me with nothing, and you’d go on the news after goading me into interrupting Alex’s wedding and claim that I was always a bad seed, that you don’t know where you went wrong with me that I wasn’t as perfect as Caro, but you wouldn’t leak the news about her wedding to the press? ”
She stares at me with those wounded victim eyes that used to work on me as a child.
When I’d want a chocolate cake for my birthday but I knew it wasn’t her favorite and why would I not want to celebrate the woman who gave me life on my birthday too?
When I’d run out of shampoo and why was I using so much and didn’t I know how much it cost to keep my hair looking good?
When I’d beg for an art kit and instead get Caro’s leftover bag of yarn from when she decided she wanted to take up knitting.
“How could you accuse me of ever doing anything to hurt you?” she says.
“You finally took the time to look into who Declan actually was instead of assuming he was just hired help and decided this was your chance to get back into Hollywood too, didn’t you?” I reply.
“What is this? What’s with you? You know I have always put you first.”
“You’ve never put me first. Ever. I don’t even know what happened to bring you here pretending to be my savior today, but I am positive it’s something you did. Something you arranged. Because you can’t handle not being the center of everything.”
“Virginia May Rhodes, stop this right now.”
My middle name.
Her middle name.
Caro’s middle name? Freida.
Ten’s middle name? Wentworth, our mother’s maiden name.
She’s centered herself in every bit of our lives since we were born.
Not because she wanted to raise kids.
Because she wanted to own our lives.
“I’m done with you,” I tell her. “Leave.”
My mother draws herself to her full height, glaring at me in a way that used to make me shrink as a child. “After all that I’ve done for you, you’re done with me? It doesn’t work that way, young lady.”
“Actually, it does. Go fuck yourself, you selfish barnacle.”
Her jaw flaps in the breeze as she gapes at me, but she recovers as quickly as only Freida can.
“How dare—”
“Utter one more word and I’ll remove you,” a deep voice says behind me.
A deep, comforting, not-supposed-to-be-here voice.
I whip around so fast I lose my balance, but Declan catches me.
Catches me and crushes me to his chest.
“What—what—” I can’t finish the question.
Am I dreaming?
Is this a dream in a nightmare?
“I’ve got you,” Declan murmurs to me. “We’ve got you. Sorry I was late. Just got here. Came through the house.””
“And now you’re hugging the man who lied to you about being a mechanic, who’s been secretly filming your life, who destroyed your sister’s privacy?” my mother says.
Declan squeezes me tighter, then releases me and turns toward my mother.
Olivia and Mabel step aside without having to be pushed.
He ambles down the steps.
Heath ducks his head.
Undoubtedly hiding a smirk.
Cricket bounces on her feet beside me, suppressing a smile.
“Do you know what I have that you don’t?” Declan says to my mother.
She pulls herself up to her full height and glares at him. “Terrible morals and an overdeveloped sense of being able to intimidate people? My god, leave my daughter alone.”
“I have receipts and the money to hire a private detective to find more. To find the evidence that you stole your kids’ money.
To find evidence that you leaked the news about your daughter’s wedding.
To track that you were the anonymous source telling the news that I’ve been here and starting rumors about Ginny again.
And I have zero qualms about destroying your reputation and your life the way you destroyed Ginny’s reputation and attempted to destroy her life. ”
I shiver as my heart swells.
Mabel slips her hand in mine and squeezes.
“You don’t scare me,” my mother says to Declan.
Heath chuckles.
Mabel smiles.
Cricket coughs like she’s hiding a giggle.
“Then you don’t really have any self-preservation skills, do you?” I say quietly. “Because we won’t be acting alone. We have Mabel. We have Heath. We have Cricket. And everyone else who lives here.”
“Nothing left to lose,” Cricket says cheerfully.
“We’re your worst nightmare,” Olivia says.
“I’m here for this party,” Dori says.
“Party?” Pip says as she, too, joins us. “This isn’t a party. It’s just all of you standing on a porch.”
“Pip, will you please tell these people that they’re being ridiculous? And mean to me on top of it all?” my mother says.
Pip tilts her head at my mother, then squints at Mabel, then winks at me.
“Huh. Hearing voices again. I should go get ice cream.” She turns and slips back into the house without another word.
My mother gapes at her retreating backside, and I don’t think it’s because Pip’s sporting a new horseshoe tattoo on her ass.
But Pip has a point.
My mother loves attention.
And that’s exactly what we’re giving her.
I step forward and put a hand on Declan’s shoulder.
He’s here.
He’s here.
He covers my hand with his and squeezes. “We can fight you to the end of time,” he tells my mother. “So go on. Go run to all of your little snitches. Share all of the recordings with them. We’ll make you regret it to your dying day.”
“Goodbye, Freida,” I say. “Have a shitty life.”
Declan turns, sweeps me off my feet and up and into his arms, and carries me inside, flanked by my friends.
A flash of blue-and-red lights reflects off the windows.
“Got it, Mabel,” Heath says.
“I’ll—I’ll—I’ll sue you until you’re penniless for this,” my mother calls after us.
I ignore her.
Declan ignores her.
The rest of my family of friends ignores her too.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper into Declan’s neck.
“Fuck hockey. You’re number one. My number one. Always.”
Seeing is suddenly impossible.
So is breathing.
Neither work when a flood of tears attacks me.
I’m his number one.
“Flow—closet—scared,” I sob.
He kisses my head and carries me upstairs to my room, grunting a little as we go.
My number one.
My one and only.
“Didn’t—have to—come,” I sob.
“You’re number one,” he repeats softly.
He sets me gently on my bed, and I pull him down with me.
He’s here.
For me.
The missing piece of my heart.
Everything I never thought I could have.
More than I still think I deserve.
“I love you,” I say as he holds me to his chest, stroking my hair and pressing kisses to the top of my head, Flow jumping all around us until she settles on top of both of us too.
He hugs me tighter. “Love you forever and always.”