Chapter Nine

Nina

Jordy was waiting at a booth when I arrived at Torches, a Manhattan on the rocks with three black maraschino cherries waiting for me.

Just like Nanna used to make.

I take the seat across from her, then eye the Manhattan. "Did you poison it?"

She stares at me for a second, then rolls her eyes before scooting the drink towards her and taking a small sip. "Mmmm, nothing like poison in a public place." She gives me a pointed look, then nudges the drink back towards me.

"I was joking," I say, though that's only partially true. It's not like I can trust anyone in my family anymore. I take my own sip, and damn if it doesn't bring me back to the old days, when Nanna served up strong cocktails despite us being underage. It was always after we watched Practical Magic , but she thought Midnight Margaritas were too basic, so Midnight Manhattans became a thing.

"Don't tell your mothers," she made us promise, then handed us each a fancy cocktail glass full of the syrupy drink, garnished with extra cherries. Nanna Dot had a personal bar that far outmatched Uncle Dan's, and she taught us how to make every drink she knew. According to her, every hostess needed to know the recipe of at least one signature cocktail, so she taught us dozens.

Perhaps my next gig will be in a bar instead of stupid coffee.

"So?" I say, taking another sip of the Manhattan. I'm trying to play it cool, to sip slowly and keep my wits about me. It's not like I need a replay of that family dinner fiasco. But damn, this drink is good.

"So, I guess I want to get to know you better," she says.

"Like, how exactly I talked Nanna Dot into giving me her fortune?" I put my drink down and inspect my nails.

"You're really going to do this?" Jordy hisses, and I look up and grin at her.

"There you are, I was wondering when you were coming out to play."

Jordy takes a deep breath, then lets it out slow. "Look, I know there's more to what Mom and Aunt Poppy are saying. It's why I'm here."

I narrow my eyes at her, finally done with this charade.

"No, you're here because you need a cheap place to live and are hoping I'll forget all the awful things you've said behind my back and invite you to take over my home. Did I miss anything? Or should we have another so-called family dinner to lull me into submission?"

"So, Brayden told you."

"Well, someone had to." I offer a fake pout. "Or did I ruin the surprise?"

Jordy looks down at the table. Even still, I can see the anger blazing in her eyes. "I guess you have it all figured out. Are you just going to continue thinking the worst of me without even hearing me out?" She looks up and glares at me. I, in turn, laugh. Loudly.

"That's rich, coming from you. Let's see, five years ago, our grandmother died and left everything to me. I neither asked for it, nor expected it. In fact, I didn't even think she would die. If giving all that money back meant she could be alive, I'd give it up in a heartbeat, because I loved Nanna Dot."

"And you think I didn't?" Jordy sits up straighter, looking me dead in the eye. "How do you think it felt to know Nanna Dot's last act was to forget all of us?"

Shitty, I know. But then there was the statement she included in her will: "You never cared to visit me when I was alive, so maybe this will help you think of me in my death."

"Like you forgot about her? Where were you that last year?" Even as I say it, I already know. She'd met Brayden that year and was probably too busy fucking her boyfriend to visit, to even pick up the phone.

But just as I'm about to blurt this out, I see her face fall. It's quick, but it's enough to knock the fight out of me. Something happened, something I don't know about. While I want to hurt her, to make her feel everything I've felt since Nanna died, I listen to that small voice inside me telling me to stop.

"It's complicated," she finally says. "I don't have a good excuse. Still, I thought Nanna loved me. It's not so much the money, though it sure would have helped pay for my student loans, it's the way she did it. By giving you everything, she let us know she didn't love us." She looks up at me. "I know you didn't make her do that, I think I've known it the whole time. That's not something you'd do. But I was so hurt. When my mom said you probably talked her into it, well, it just became a way to redirect our anger, I guess. Nanna Dot wasn't there to answer for why she cut us out, but you were. "

I feel completely twisted inside. I am still furious, but now there's this ache accompanying it. I look down at my hands, afraid my face will show how I'm feeling now that she's copping to what happened. Honestly, I'm not even sure what I'm feeling. Relief, maybe. Sad. A little defeated, knowing it just took a thought to completely write me out of their lives.

I suppose like Nanna Dot wrote them out of her will.

It doesn't change what happened. But somehow, just hearing Jordy say it smooths the edges of the pain I've experienced ever since Nanna died—and when I lost everyone along with her.

"I wish you would have talked with me." I clench my hands, then unclench them, feeling the tension ebb slightly. "If you would have just asked me about it, or even asked how I was doing. I was left alone in that house after Nanna died, and not one of you came to see if I was okay."

She's quiet. Then she blows out a deep exhale. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Of course you didn't. You all were so absorbed with everything you didn't get, you didn't even see that I'd lost everything. And then I lost—" All of you. But I can't get the words out because I'm crying too hard. She reaches across the table, holding her hand out. I look at it, at the open invitation her hand offers.

I don't want to forgive her. I've held on to my anger for so long—especially against her—that I don't know how to be without it.

But it's more than all that, and I know it. I don't want to forgive her because I'm jealous of her. Even admitting that to myself feels embarrassing and icky, but I am. She's tall and gorgeous while I'm short and frumpy. Her clothes are elegantly styled while mine are thrifted and colorful. She has perfect tan skin, and I just discovered a new zit on the side of my nose this morning. She's close with her mom—at least now it seems—and my mom only calls me when she needs something .

And she got the guy.

Fuck. I can't believe I'm being this petty and childish. She got the guy because she met him first. It doesn't matter how I feel about him, or that we experienced this unreal connection. He's not mine.

I look at her outstretched hand, then at the cautious question in her face. The one that seeks forgiveness, to repair our lost friendship, to come back to what we once had.

We aren't there, and it will take so much time to get there; but it has to start somewhere, right?

I take her hand, and she squeezes it. But I pull away.

"Look, I'm not an idiot. I know you're just playing nice because you need a place to stay, and I have the room. So let's not act like this is anything more than it is."

"I really do want to repair this rift between us," she says. I shoot her a narrow-eyed look, and she sighs. "Fine. And I need a place to stay. I know it's a big ask, and honestly, I knew it was too much when we coerced you into that sham of a family dinner. We haven't exactly been on the best of terms lately, and that's hardly the recipe for a good living arrangement. But I'd like to try. For my own selfish reasons, of course, but also to try and mend our broken relationship. I'll even pay rent, whatever you feel is fair, though I do ask that it be kept below market rate because holy fuck the rents are ridiculous here."

I know it, though I've never had to pay rent.

"And you want to move here for college?" I ask.

"Partly," she says. "But also to start planning our wedding."

I fucking hate those words, but I do everything in my power to keep my face neutral.

"Our whole relationship has been somewhat long distance," she continues. "Brayden's parents are old fashioned and super traditional, so I can't move in there, and I won't ask him to leave the farm for me. At least not yet."

"What do you mean not yet? You want him to leave?" The words are out of my mouth before I can pull them back in. I shouldn't care this much, not for someone who's supposed to be a stranger. But if she notices, she doesn't show it.

"Well, yeah. To get my career going, I thought we could try out New York. I considered Los Angeles too, just so we could be near our families. But really, New York is where I need to be if I want to make a name for myself.

She wants him to leave the farm? Alarm bells are ringing inside my head. It's none of my business, of course, but I also know that Brayden is passionate about caring for his family farm. I could tell when he talked about it the night I met him, and even on our ride home. Hell, he won't even hire someone to work there unless they get along with the family.

"We're planning to spend a lifetime together," Jordy continues, "but we hardly spend any time together now. So I thought I could finish my graduate year here in Sunset Bay, and maybe Brayden and I could finally set a date for our wedding and start making plans for our home together."

Oh, my heart. I can't believe how much it aches. Just hearing Jordy talk about all this is like a gut punch.

How will it be if she lives with me? How will I manage it when he comes to visit her, when I see him kiss her, when they disappear behind closed doors?

I have to say no. I have every right to say no. Jordy and I are not reconciled as kin. In fact, it's way too soon for a request like this.

But then there's the loneliness of the house. The walls that are caving in on me. The overwhelming clutter and the amount of cleaning this house requires. The fact that I haven't let anyone in since Maren moved out—and who best to help me but family?

Can I rely on her like others can rely on their family members? Because the track record is not looking good.

"I'll help you with the house," she says then, as if she's reading my mind. I look at her sharply, but she continues. "I saw it, Nina. You need help, and I can give it. I do this all the time. I recently helped this elderly woman who had decades of stuff in her home, much like you do with Nanna Dot's. While I live with you, I could help you get rid of the things you don't need anymore, and free up some space in that house."

There's a tug-of-war happening inside me. On one hand, I don't want her near any of Nanna's things, and I definitely don't want to get rid of anything. But on the other hand, I'm being edged out by Nanna's belongings. If I don't do something about it, I'll have no room to live.

And I want a relationship with Jordy. I miss her. There was a time when I could trust her with just about anything. Jordy was my confidante, and since her, I've never had anyone come close.

I take a deep breath, then look in her hopeful brown eyes. "I really should say no," I begin, and I hate the way her eyes light up, and how my own heart feels hopeful, "but okay."