Seeing is Believing (Cuttersville #3)(19)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Piper chose the easier question to answer first. “We have the chairs because Grandma likes them.” Her father’s mother, Willie, and Amanda were as different as ants and elephants, but they had a deep respect for each other. “And I don’t know why Brady is here.”

“Curious.”

“What, about the chairs? Not really.” Even though Piper knew that wasn’t what her mother was talking about.

“No, why the prodigal grandson has returned home. Talk about wasted potential, that one. It’s depressing. And you know how I feel about depressing.”

Oh, yes. She knew. It was one of Amanda’s catchphrases whenever she didn’t like something. If it was depressing, it didn’t have the Amanda stamp of approval. Sometimes she was serious, sometimes she was exaggerating. Piper was used to her being slightly overdramatic. But her words reminded her of what Brady had told her about not painting anymore. “Why do you say that?”

“He could have been a successful artist, but he went off to art school in Chicago with all that swagger and bravado. It turns people off, makes it so no one wants to help you get ahead. It’s a shame, because he’s talented, but he was always a little insecure.”

“You think he’s insecure?” Piper asked in amazement. She wouldn’t have said anything of the sort. “He seems pretty sure of himself to me.” In bed and out.

Amanda swept her eyes over Piper. “I always thought you had a bit of a crush on Brady. But I’m sure you’ve outgrown that.”

Maybe not. “Why does it matter? He’s just here for a few days.”

Piper didn’t like the way she was being studied, like a butterfly pinned to a board.

“I like Brady,” her mom said. “I always have. He’s charming and funny. But he’s the kind of man who is never satisfied.”

Piper could disagree on that one. He’d seemed plenty satisfied the night before, but she couldn’t exactly say that.

“He’s restless,” Amanda added.

“So?” Piper sounded petulant and she knew it. But she didn’t want her fantasy squashed like that dead snake in the yard. Couldn’t she pretend and indulge for a day or two before someone stomped on her head? She had known when she had gone into the hallway that there was no possibility of a relationship with Brady. But that didn’t mean she wanted the bloom knocked off the rose quite so fast. She wanted to enjoy the memory for at least a day or two before reality kicked her in the teeth.

“He’s not good enough for you,” Amanda said in a soft voice. “You deserve the best. Someone with staying power.”

Because she’d had a mother who died and a shitty stepfather. Because she’d been a bald little ragamuffin.

She got it.

She knew it.

She lived it.

Her parents wanted the best for her. She understood that and appreciated it. She loved them for it. But sometimes it was just damn frustrating to have them treat her differently. Like she was fragile. Never once in her childhood had she been spanked or grounded, even when she had acted up, which hadn’t been that often, but still. Nor had she really taken any risks or made any mistakes because she hadn’t wanted to scare them, cause them worry.

Her father had saved her from hell, so she shouldn’t cause him any. That was how she’d lived her life.

But damn it, she was a grown-ass woman, and if she wanted to get naked with her childhood crush, that was her business. It might have been a huge mistake, but it was her right to make it.

“Thank you,” was simply what she told her stepmother, because she wasn’t going to argue with her. Piper didn’t argue. She’d learned by three years old never to do that.

“I always thought you’d end up marrying Cameron,” her mother said.

Which made Piper want to roll her eyes. “Cameron and I are best friends, that’s it.” Nor was her friend the kind of guy who dug in and committed himself to a lifetime, which was why Amanda’s argument about Brady seemed doubly ridiculous. Piper heard the irritation in her voice and winced.

Fortunately, Logan chose that moment to serve as a distraction by whacking the dead snake so hard it flipped up and smacked a gawking Lilly in the eye with the tip of its tail, who burst into tears. Several of the dogs started barking, agitated.

“Daniel Logan!” Amanda said, bolting out of her chair and striding to the end of the porch. “That’s it. You are as done as dinner, mister. Apologize to Lilly and then get in the house.”

“It was an accident,” Logan protested, with the irreverence only thirteen-year-olds seem to have.

“For real? I mean, did your arm holding a stick just happen to fall on a snake? If you’re going to form an argument, make sure it’s a solid one. I know you watch Law and Order. The end result was an accident, but your initial action caused it.”

Piper got up herself to go and comfort Lilly, who was putting up quite a fuss. “There’s a snake in my eye!” she screamed, running towards the house.

Amanda snorted and shot Piper a grin behind her hand. “The kid has style. I like the drama of it all.”

It certainly wasn’t what Piper would have done at that age. But Lilly was a pint-sized drama queen. She flew up the porch steps and hurled herself at Piper, who hugged her.

“Let me see it,” Piper said gently, coaxing Lilly to step back so she could see whether any damage had been done. “Okay, everything looks fine. It will feel better in a second.”

“What’s all the racket about?” Piper’s father came out the back door onto the porch and adjusted his baseball hat to better shield him from the sun.

“Logan hit Lilly in the eye with a snake,” Amanda told him. “And I would like a cocktail.”

Logan was sullenly coming towards the house, his gym shoes kicking up dust. He’d gotten tall and lanky over the summer, his hair bleach blond like his mother’s.

“Oh. That sounds about right for a Saturday.” Piper’s father moved to the end of the porch, ruffling Piper’s hair on the way by as though she were still Lilly’s age. “Daniel Logan, I think you’re coming with me to clean out the chicken coop.”

“Dad, it was an accident!” Logan looked appalled at the injustice.

“Coop still needs cleaning.”

“Piper never has to clean out the chicken coop,” was her brother’s final protest, the stick still in his hand and striking the porch posts now.