big sister,” she agrees. Mallory is so nonchalant about her feelings for Zeke. I can’t tell if she is really into him or if she is just using him to pass the time the same way she did with Ricky. Either way, I’m not going to push the issue. I kind of like the idea of my sister dating Cole's friend. As long as Mallory is entertained with Zeke, Cole and I will have another couple to hang out with.
We spend the rest of the afternoon comparing Cole to Zeke and arguing over who is hotter. It is shallow and pointless because my sister and I only have eyes for our respective guy, but it helps pass the time while we work. Mom pulls up with the Jeep and trailer just as I win the debate over who could carry the most two-by-fours across the lumber yard. Cole, obviously .
I’m not surprised when I see that my mother converted an old horse trailer to haul her furniture in, complete with a glossy coat of bubble-gum-pink paint and the name of her business—Three Girls' Creations—in white block lettering with swirls of turquoise behind them.
“Three girls? I thought Mom was a solo act?” I ask as my mom backs up to the barn door.
“ We're the other two, dummy,” she answers as she hops into the trailer. “Now get your bony ass over here and help me load this dresser.” I am stunned. Not because she insinuated my ass was bony, which it isn’t, but because my mom included me.
“ But why?” I ask as I move over and lift up my end of the dresser. “I haven't been around. I haven't helped her with anything.”
Mallory shrugs with a smile. “I guess she always knew you'd come back around.”
I didn't mind the work today—all of the loading and polishing and finishing touches. As soon as my mom comes into the barn, I throw my arms around her neck and squeeze her a little tighter than usual.
“ You didn't have to do that,” I mumble into her hair. She pulls away and looks at me with confusion. “That,” I say, pointing at the trailer. “Three Girls'.”
“ Of course I did,” she smiles. “There are three of us,” she adds without hesitation.
“ Yeah, but I haven't been... I haven't done anything. I don't deserve any recognition.”
“ It's not about what you did or didn't do. It's about who you are, Whitney.” She raises her hand to my cheek. “You're my daughter first and foremost. I don't care if you help paint tables or go off and travel the world. You're always here with me.”
I feel my eyes start to well up, but I can’t stop the laughter that bursts from my lips. Mom looks at me with her knowing eyes and begins to giggle.
“I sounded like a Lifetime movie, didn't I?”
I sniffle. “A little bit.” I hug her again. “But it was sweet and I appreciate it.” It is the first time I have ever felt like enough to a parent. I don’t feel like I have anything to prove to myself or to earn my place with her. Back in the city, that was all my life was about—earning my place as daughter, student, girlfriend, etc.
After we loaded the trailer and Mom and Mal retreated to the house, I stayed out in the barn. I figured I had an hour of sunlight left, and even though my mom had said I didn't have anything to prove, I re-dusted every piece of furniture for the sale.
My cell phone chimes from across the room, and I immediately drop my dust rag and scurry to fetch it, hoping it is Cole.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since our date the night before. The conversation we had at dinner only intensified how much I like him. We didn’t discuss anything too deep, mostly likes and dislikes. He told me about his arrangement with Hank to fix up the house he is staying in. The only thing that seems to turn me on more than watching Cole the night he grabbed a hold of Ricky is watching his eyes light up when he talks about his plans for that house. It probably has something to do with the shirtless images of him I
We spend the rest of the afternoon comparing Cole to Zeke and arguing over who is hotter. It is shallow and pointless because my sister and I only have eyes for our respective guy, but it helps pass the time while we work. Mom pulls up with the Jeep and trailer just as I win the debate over who could carry the most two-by-fours across the lumber yard. Cole, obviously .
I’m not surprised when I see that my mother converted an old horse trailer to haul her furniture in, complete with a glossy coat of bubble-gum-pink paint and the name of her business—Three Girls' Creations—in white block lettering with swirls of turquoise behind them.
“Three girls? I thought Mom was a solo act?” I ask as my mom backs up to the barn door.
“ We're the other two, dummy,” she answers as she hops into the trailer. “Now get your bony ass over here and help me load this dresser.” I am stunned. Not because she insinuated my ass was bony, which it isn’t, but because my mom included me.
“ But why?” I ask as I move over and lift up my end of the dresser. “I haven't been around. I haven't helped her with anything.”
Mallory shrugs with a smile. “I guess she always knew you'd come back around.”
I didn't mind the work today—all of the loading and polishing and finishing touches. As soon as my mom comes into the barn, I throw my arms around her neck and squeeze her a little tighter than usual.
“ You didn't have to do that,” I mumble into her hair. She pulls away and looks at me with confusion. “That,” I say, pointing at the trailer. “Three Girls'.”
“ Of course I did,” she smiles. “There are three of us,” she adds without hesitation.
“ Yeah, but I haven't been... I haven't done anything. I don't deserve any recognition.”
“ It's not about what you did or didn't do. It's about who you are, Whitney.” She raises her hand to my cheek. “You're my daughter first and foremost. I don't care if you help paint tables or go off and travel the world. You're always here with me.”
I feel my eyes start to well up, but I can’t stop the laughter that bursts from my lips. Mom looks at me with her knowing eyes and begins to giggle.
“I sounded like a Lifetime movie, didn't I?”
I sniffle. “A little bit.” I hug her again. “But it was sweet and I appreciate it.” It is the first time I have ever felt like enough to a parent. I don’t feel like I have anything to prove to myself or to earn my place with her. Back in the city, that was all my life was about—earning my place as daughter, student, girlfriend, etc.
After we loaded the trailer and Mom and Mal retreated to the house, I stayed out in the barn. I figured I had an hour of sunlight left, and even though my mom had said I didn't have anything to prove, I re-dusted every piece of furniture for the sale.
My cell phone chimes from across the room, and I immediately drop my dust rag and scurry to fetch it, hoping it is Cole.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since our date the night before. The conversation we had at dinner only intensified how much I like him. We didn’t discuss anything too deep, mostly likes and dislikes. He told me about his arrangement with Hank to fix up the house he is staying in. The only thing that seems to turn me on more than watching Cole the night he grabbed a hold of Ricky is watching his eyes light up when he talks about his plans for that house. It probably has something to do with the shirtless images of him I
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