with her foot—a reassurance, Taylor supposed, about moving in together and going to a community college in Tampa.
Mimi began to collect the dirty plates. “What are your favorite subjects in school?”
“I like art, so I’m thinking about graphic design. Something I can do from my home. You know, run my own business.”
“It’s always nice to be your own boss,” Autumn said. “But won’t it be hard to find customers?”
“Not necessarily,” Sierra said. “There’s a lot of demand for that type of work, and I could get jobs online. Places like Upworks. That sort of thing.”
Autumn smiled. “Sounds like you’re savvy enough to get it all figured out.”
“I hope so.”
Taylor watched her mother carefully. Had that comment been sincere? Did she like Sierra?
They ate vegan brownies for dessert, and the conversation finally veered away from Sierra. Caden talked about how cool it was of Quinn Vanderbilt to give them a free lunch at The Daily Catch, Sierra asked about the coffee shop Mimi was adding to her bookstore—something Taylor had tipped her off would be a good subject—and Autumn talked about the fundraiser.
After dinner, Sierra stayed to watch a movie. Caden joined them, but Autumn and Mimi were busy working on the fundraiser at the kitchen table. They didn’t seem to be paying them any attention, but as soon as the movie ended, Taylor could tell Sierra was eager to go. “I’m pretty tired,” she said. “I’d better head home.”
“Okay.”
Everyone said goodbye and told her they were glad she’d come. She said she was grateful for the invite and the food was delicious, and Taylor walked her out.
“Are you okay?” Taylor asked as they reached Sierra’s father’s car, parked in front of the house. He’d let her take it, saying that if he needed to go out tonight he could use the bike. Taylor was beginning to see that Mr. Lambert wasn’t all bad. He had his shortcomings, but as Sierra had once said, at least he’d stuck by her and taken care of the basics—like making sure she had a roof over her head, food to eat and clothes to wear.
“I’m fine,” she replied, but Taylor got the impression that she hadn’t truly enjoyed herself.
“You didn’t like meeting my family?”
She got into the driver’s seat and started the engine so she could roll down the window before closing the door. “I think your family’s awesome.”
Taylor bent down, resting her elbows on the window ledge. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“I can tell there is,” Taylor insisted. “Why won’t you just tell me?”
Sierra nibbled on her bottom lip as she stared through the windshield, in the direction of the beach.
“We can tell each other anything, remember?” Taylor said.
“You’re very lucky. Your family loves you so much.”
“I know. I love them, too. Why is that a problem?”
She sighed. “Because I think I’ve been fooling myself all along.”
Taylor toed a rock in the gravel. “In what way?”
“I’ll never fit in with you, with them. I might as well face it.”
“What are you talking about? You don’t have to fit in. People need to accept you as you are, and that includes my family.”
“That’s a nice thing to say, but that isn’t always how it works—not when...not when you care.”
“I’m confused. Care about what?”
Sierra put the car in Reverse. “If I care about you, I have to care about them—whether they like me or feel I’m good enough for you or whatever.”
Taylor straightened and let go of the window ledge. “You’re good enough for anyone, the best person I’ve ever met. Where’s this coming from?”
“You honestly don’t understand what I’m saying? I’m different, Taylor. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, they can already see it. And they won’t want you to be different like me,” she said and drove off.
* * *
The sun was just lifting its sleepy head over the Atlantic as Quinn waited at the lifeguard station.
Would Autumn show up this morning?
He’d tried talking himself out of texting her last night. After wrestling with the temptation for a couple of hours, he’d decided to back off and leave her alone. She wasn’t in a good position to start a relationship. She’d said as much. And although he wanted to be with her, and had already pursued her, the truth was, neither was he.
As terrible as it was to watch his mother suffer and to know that he could lose her in the next few months, at least he was free of the intense and emotionally draining outbursts that had characterized his twenty something