“Is that why I didn’t see you come home with the tent?”
Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.
“No,” I said. Very slowly. “The tent was covered in mold and I threw it out. And by the way, thanks for springing that whole ‘Mom’s new boyfriend owns half of Honeyfield’ thing on me. How could you keep that a secret?”
She rolled her eyes. “Roger owns the diner and the repair shop, not half of Honeyfield.”
“Have you been on Main Street? That is literally half of Honeyfield.”
“Don’t use that tone with me, and don’t try to change the subject.” She crossed her arms, and it was like looking at a younger version of Gram. “Did you or did you not share a tent with Paxton Croft last night?”
“So what if I did?” I hadn’t intended to confess that part—Elise would’ve covered for me on the tent front—but I was so sick of having my life dictated by her choices.
“Goddamn it, Macy.” She stood and paced in front of me. “You are supposed to be smarter than this. You are supposed to get the hell out of this town and have a better life and never have to know what it feels like to work until you’re dead.”
“I can still do those things.” I hated this. I hated this entire conversation. “I’m not going to be tied down and pregnant just because I had sex with a boy. I know what a condom is. I’m not you.”
Her head snapped back as if I’d slapped her. I’d said too much, struck too deep. I opened my mouth to tell her I was sorry and that I didn’t mean it, but she cut me off with a single raised hand. “You think I didn’t know what a condom was? How do you think I felt being one of the lucky two percent it failed on?”
I’d had no idea. She’d never said anything like that before. I’d just assumed she’d had unprotected sex, and that was how I came to be. But still, her words hit me as hard as I’d hit her, and we’d reached a point where we were just one-upping who could hurt who more.
“I bet you felt awful,” I said. “I bet having me was the worst thing that ever happened to you.”
She sat with a heavy thump on the beach recliner. As if all the fight had been knocked clean out of her. “That’s not what I said.”
“You didn’t have to say it.” I already knew. Just like I knew I’d done everything in my power to be the perfect daughter. Because my entire life I’d been trying to apologize for existing.
“That’s enough.” Gram stood on the back porch, her hands on her hips. “I’ve got twelve hours left to get a quilt ready enough to win, and I’m not going to sit inside and listen to another minute of this nonsense.”
“Then go back to your quilt and mind your own business,” Mom said.
“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady. I don’t give a good goddamn if you are grown; I will whip your ass from here until Sunday.” Gram stalked across the yard and stared Mom down until we both shrunk to the size of the ants crawling among the brown grass.
“Sorry,” Mom mumbled.
“How much did you hear?” I winced, knowing Gigi was inside.
“Everything.” Gram turned on me, and I flinched from her fire. “The entire neighborhood could hear the way you two were screaming at each other, and we’re going to settle this now so I can get back to quilting in peace.”
“You don’t need to settle anything,” Mom said, with significantly less tone. “This is between me and Macy.”
“Like hell it is. I’m not going to sit back while you throw knives at each other until you’re both nothing but bloody ribbons. Gracie”—Gram turned to Mom, and she flinched just the way I had—“Paxton is as fine a boy as there ever was, he’s got a soft heart, and I know you’ve seen the way he looks at Macy. He’s not that piece of shit college boy who abandoned you; he could never be that boy. You need to let it go.”
“Don’t talk to her like that,” I said. Even though I fully agreed with her, and she was taking my side, the need to protect Mom ran so bone-deep, I couldn’t help myself.
“You’d do well to shut your mouth when I’m defending you,” Gram said.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said to my feet.
“And you.” Gram flung her pointed finger at me. “You didn’t tell your momma about Paxton before you went camping, and you know that’s wrong. We expect better of you.”
“I know.” I toed at the anthill hidden in the grass. “I’m sorry.”
“Another thing you need to know.” Gram grasped my chin and tilted my face up. “You have been a joy and a blessing in our lives. It was tough when your momma found out she was pregnant, tough on all of us, but don’t think for one second that we regret you being here. We love you, Macy. You’re the brightest bit of sunshine we have in this dark world.”
I knew they loved me. Of course I did, but it was so hard to look at the life Mom had and know it could’ve been easier without me, to not feel selfish and ungrateful that I wanted something different. But just like Mom needed to let go of her past, I needed to let go too. My family meant the world to me—I never wanted them to think they weren’t enough—but I’d graduated. Next year I’d be moving on. And I had to accept that I couldn’t fix or change something I wasn’t responsible for, or I’d never stand on my own.
“I love you too. Both of you. Nothing will ever change that.” I stood and turned to my mom. “But I’m not going to stop seeing Paxton. I need you to let me make my own choices. And maybe I’ll screw it up, but for me, it’s a risk worth taking.”
Mom didn’t speak, and I quietly died inside while she sat silent. I wouldn’t take back a single word though. This confrontation had been a long time coming. If we hadn’t dealt with it now, all the guilt I carried around would’ve turned to bitter resentment, and the damage to our relationship would’ve been catastrophic.
“Gracie.” Gram’s voice turned softer. “Are you going to talk to your daughter, or are you just going to keep sitting there like a stiff?”
“Mom.” I had to explain this in a way she’d understand. It always came back to Say Anything. “He’s my Lloyd Dobler.”
Her eyes widened a fraction, but she still didn’t make a sound.
“And I’m not saying I’m Diane, or you’re trying to put me in a box, but maybe …” If I didn’t say what was on my mind now, this would pass, and we’d go on as we had been with her worrying all the time and me feeling guilty all the time, and I couldn’t do it anymore. “Maybe sometimes you do, without meaning to. I know life got hard, and I know you don’t want the same for me, but at what point will you believe that you’ve done enough?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her nose wrinkled the way mine sometimes did when I knew I’d been busted at something.
“Yes, you do.” My voice had gone so quiet, Gram had to come closer to act like she wasn’t hanging on every word. “My life is good. It’s full of people I love who love me back because you made sure I’d always have that. You gave me everything I’d ever need, choices and guidance and roots, and I’m so grateful for it all. It’s because of those things that I love Paxton. Because of those things, he loves me too. Because of who you raised me to be.”