How to Marry Your Frenemy - London Casey Page 0,103

need them. Proving that I could take care of myself and my mother alone. I wanted to take on anything that a man would do because my father left us. I wanted to be the best, no matter what. I took a job that was bad for me and worked to prove myself. I met a man who challenged me. When I was offered money to marry that man, I did. Because I could never back down and never act as though I was a woman with feelings. I fell in love with that man. I loved him so much… I still love him so much. All the dirty secrets and truths rained down on us and crushed what we had. Confusion. Doubt. Worry. I married for money and ended up with a husband I love. Only I don’t have him anymore. He’s gone. I’m here. And… I… I accept… my fate.”

I shut my eyes and blew out the candle.

Then I started to cry.

“Here, take this lucky tissue,” Sunny said.

“Is that your boob tissue?” Lake asked.

Sunny tangled a white cloth in front of my face.

“Please don’t touch that tissue, Callie,” Joni said.

“It’s been cleaned,” Sunny said.

“It was just in your bra,” Joni whispered.

“I’m clean,” Sunny said.

“You were just with Bill last night,” Lake said.

“That was a secret,” Sunny said.

“Oh, Sunny, you’re with him again?” Joni asked.

I started to laugh.

They all looked at me.

I took Sunny’s boob tissue and wiped my face.

“I owe you all an apology,” I said.

“For what?” Joni asked.

“For the way I’ve acted,” I said. “I’ve always judged you. I’ve treated you like you’re less than you are. I was so rude to you all…”

“We’re here now,” Lake said.

“I want to believe,” I said. “The sayings. The candles. The rocks. The energies…”

“Then just believe,” Sunny said. “Just tell the universe what you want. Open yourself to receiving. Don’t be afraid…”

I nodded.

I opened my mouth, ready to fall into it.

Yeah, that’s right, I was going to fall into the energy. Only because I could actually feel it. Their stories were real. Honest. They were raw and painful. They weren’t hippies looking for peace and drugs. They were strong women who lived through hell and could tell stories about it. The same with Mom. She lived through so much pain and could never take a moment because she had me. And I was always so loud and fast… and annoying.

“Okay,” I said. “What I want is-”

“Some lemonade,” Mom said as she walked into the room.

“Uh, not quite,” I said.

“Yes, you do. Drink it.”

I took the cup from her. “Is this spiked with something?”

“Yes,” Mom said. “It’s my voodoo stuff.”

She wiggled her fingers at me.

I rolled my eyes and sipped the lemonade.

I quickly put the cup down. “Oh… wow… sorry, Mom, that’s terrible. That’s the worst lemonade I’ve ever had.”

“I know,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yeah. Nobody could make lemonade like you,” she said.

“My lemonade stands saved us,” I said.

“Yes they did. And now this lemonade is going to save you. Stand up and go see where it came from.”

I slowly stood and walked to the front of the shop.

I didn’t see anything or anyone.

At least not until I got to the front door.

That’s when I saw a lemonade stand out front of the shop.

With someone standing behind it, pouring little, plastic cups of lemonade.

Jackson.

I pointed to the cups. “You should stop pouring these.”

“Why?” Jackson asked.

“They’re disgusting.”

“The lemonade?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You have too much lemon in it. It’s too sour. You have to have the perfect balance between lemon and sugar.”

“Thanks for the feedback,” he said.

“What is this?” I asked.

“I was snooping through your drawers once and saw the picture of you with the lemonade stand.”

“You… what?”

Jackson grinned. “Yeah. I was looking for some kinky sex toys. There weren’t any.”

“I don’t own any kinky sex toys, Jackson,” I said.

“I know that now. But I also know that the lemonade stand meant a lot to you. What you were willing to do to survive. It takes a lot to be that young and have that drive.”

“No choice,” I said.

“That’s why I’m here, Callie…”

“To sell crappy tasting lemonade?” I asked.

“Your mother still owes me for the cup she took,” he said.

“Send me the bill,” I said. “Oh, and don’t quit your day job.”

“Too late, Callie.”

“What?”

Jackson stepped out from the lemonade stand. “Too late. I quit.”

“You quit your father’s company? Why?”

“Vince told me a story about you and him,” Jackson said. “I didn’t believe a word.”

“But…”

“I trust you, sweetie. What I saw that night looked really