Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(72)
Author: Mimi Strong

Dalton pushed back from the table. “I’ll call Vern to prepare the plane. You can fly out within the hour.”

She said, “But I don’t want to ruin the rest of the weekend, and everything you have planned.”

“Mom,” he said.

My heart clinched at him calling her that.

He said, “Go and be with your son. We’ve got plenty of time. So much time.”

They argued back and forth for a few minutes, until my father stood and started toward the doorway to the rooms.

I stood as well.

Dalton looked up at me with surprise. “Vern can make two trips. It’s a short flight.”

How could I explain to Dalton that I carried a mother’s guilt with me?

His father and cousin were staring at me with interest.

How could I say that I’d already let Kyle down once by not acknowledging him and getting prenatal care, and that I’d die if I ever let him down again? How could I explain I was as drawn to him because of the fever as my mother was?

I couldn’t explain without telling him the truth—the terrible thing I’d been able to tell the other men I’d been dating, but not Dalton.

Without words, my eyes somehow conveyed enough of an explanation.

He stood as well, and said, “I’ll help you get packed and on your way.”

“I can get my bags packed, I don’t need a butler,” I snapped.

“It’s up to you,” he said.

“Peaches, you can stay,” my mother said.

“You know I can’t,” I replied, and started walking away from the table. I tried not to think about the wounded expression I’d seen on Dalton’s face.

CHAPTER 32

Kyle’s fever had already broken by the time we landed on Dragonfly Lake Sunday afternoon.

The three of us picked him up from his friend’s house, apologized for probably infecting the other little boy with whatever he had. Kyle was feeling well enough to request ice cream, so we stopped at Moody’s Milk and News for frozen treats.

Kyle and I sat in the back seat of the car, eating our Fudgsicle and Creamsicle, respectively.

He wasn’t content to just eat, though, and kept poking me in the leg to get a reaction.

I said to him, “Kyle, I know Mom already said you could be the ring bearer at my wedding next weekend, but I think I might get someone else.”

He stared me down, his eyes squinting. “Who?”

“Oh, anyone would do. I just need a little girl, so her dress matches mine.”

“No. Carrying the ring is my job. Mom said.”

“Fine, I guess you’ll have to wear the pretty dress I bought.”

His eyes widened.

“The skirt is so pretty,” I said. “With ruffles, and flowers.”

“Mo-o-o-o-m!” he wailed.

She sighed. “Peaches, don’t antagonize your brother.”

“Gimme a bite of your Fudgsicle,” I said, even though I don’t care for the burnt taste of chocolate ice cream. “One bite, and I’ll let you wear the boy’s suit Mom got you.”

He gave me the sweetest, most innocent expression, and held the drippy Fudgsicle toward me. “Okay.”

“You’re going to smack me in the nose when I try to take a bite, aren’t you?”

“No. I love you.”

“Kyle, why do you love me?”

“Because I do.”

“I love you, too, but I don’t want your Fudgsicle, because your germs are on it, and I don’t want to get sick before the wedding.”

“Okay.” He stuck it back in his mouth.

After he’d eaten it right down to the stick, he asked me, “Are you really getting married? Because some people said that you can’t, because you’re fat.”

My mother turned around in her seat, her face livid before she toned her reaction down in front of Kyle. Through clenched teeth, she asked him, “Sweetie, are the kids that you play with talking about Peaches?”

He turned to the window. “Sometimes.”

I stared at my mother, feeling sick to my stomach. Through all of the craziness of the summer, I barely considered how my actions would affect him. If I married Dalton, the gossip would only get worse, especially when Kyle returned to school in September.

My mother turned to my father and said, “Hey, we’re married, aren’t we?”

“Yes, I believe we are,” he said calmly, turning on the turn signal to get onto the road home.

“And were there any problems due to me being fat?”

He smiled. “Are you fat? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Most days I don’t notice, either,” she said. “Except for sometimes, when I meet really, really, really stupid people. Mostly I just feel sorry for them for being so stupid.”

Kyle laughed. “The girl who said it. She is stupid.”

I remembered what my mother had said two weeks earlier, about Kyle acting out recently. If kids were teasing him about his sister, that would certainly explain him being upset. I made a mental note to spend more one-on-one time with him, so I could talk to him about any problems he was having.

Kyle started telling us more about this girl who was mean. She was eight years old, and her mother already had her on a diet.

My mother gave me a knowing look. “I believe I know exactly who this girl’s mother is, and I look forward to having a little chat with her.”

My father said, “Maybe I should be there with you when that happens. Just in case.”

“As backup for the beatdown,” I said, nodding. “Go, Dad.”

“Something like that,” he said.

My mother rolled her eyes and turned back around in her seat.

In a low voice, I said to Kyle, “Hey, if you ever need me to take care of someone, just say the word.”

He gave me one those cute I’m-so-confused-by-you faces.

“I’ve got your back,” I said, nodding gravely.

“You’re weird.”

“You eat boogers.”

“Your whole head is made of boogers. And your butt.”

We traded insults until we got to the house.

Mom thawed out a meatloaf from the freezer, and we sat together and enjoyed our family dinner. I wondered how Dalton and his father and cousin were doing back at the resort, but mostly I relaxed and savored the comfort of being with my people.

CHAPTER 33

Monday morning, I arrived late to Peachtree Books, now open at the new location. I was shocked to discover the store was already open.

A brunette woman, about fifty, swept the front sidewalk clear of dirt and debris.