repeated. “Who, according to Ava, is somehow your husband?”
“Well.” I winced. “Yes.”
“Sweet butter biscuits, Diesel, when were you going to tell us that any of this was happening?”
“When you got back?” I shrugged. “I didn’t want to ruin your vacation. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime trip, after all, and—”
“And you didn’t think we’d be a little more concerned about you than about some old, drafty cathedrals?”
Aunt Dot came scurrying over with a large rectangle of pink material she’d crocheted and held it up to Mari’s back. “There we go. Sized it perfectly on the first go! I’ll have this worked up for my baby in a jiffy, won’t I, sweet girl?” She ran a hand over Marigold’s head. “I won’t upset you by holding you right now, angel, since you don’t know me yet, but we’re gonna have so much fun together, and—”
“Dorothy Ann,” Birdie interrupted pointedly. “I was telling Diesel off for keeping us in the dark, and you’re stealing my thunder, honey.”
“Oh. Did you get to the part with the drafty, old cathedrals?”
“Yes.”
“And the bit where we think of him as the son we never had? And how proud we are of the man he’s become? And how lucky Parrish is to have him? And how we can’t wait to see them kick butt at raising this baby? And how we want to support them in whatever way we can?”
Aunt Birdie sighed. “No, I hadn’t gotten there yet.”
“Oh.” Dot shrugged and smiled saucily. “Well, it’s not my fault you can’t cut to the chase.” She gave me a loving look. “But really, Diesel. We love you. We’re family. And family’s not just for barbecues and gift-giving occasions, okay? You should’ve told us. You should’ve let us support you. You aren’t alone.”
It was hard to speak around the giant lump in my throat, so I nodded. “Okay.”
“All parties in the case of Marigold Church, please step forward,” the bailiff called.
The aunts hugged me quickly, and I stepped forward to take my place, even though my nerves were eating at me. “I can’t do this,” I whispered to no one in particular. “I need Parrish.”
Ava stepped in front of me and put her hands on my cheeks. “I’m sure Parrish will be here any minute, but you don’t need him to win this case. You never did, do you hear me? You were always good enough for that little girl, with or without your husband. You’re a hard worker, a business owner, a generous member of your community. You are strong and loving, and you have all the support you need to bring Marigold up to be the same. We are your family, do you understand? All of us.” She gestured to the packed hallway where more of the Thicket citizens had gathered while I’d been busy wallowing in my pity party. I saw Tucker Wright and Dunn Johnson, Amos Nutter and Emmaline Proud. People I’d given eggs to, sold parts to, or somehow met or interacted with during the decade I’d lived in the Thicket.
It was overwhelming. I’d still thought of myself as the troublemaker, the scared and angry teen who’d hitched a ride to Stix’s salvage yard, the loner who tried not to be noticed as much as possible. But now here they all were.
For me.
Somehow along the way, I’d become a true Thicketeer without realizing it.
Mal and Brooks came up behind Ava. “You got this,” Mal said.
“Give ’em hell,” Brooks added gruffly.
Ian shot me a calm, reassuring smile. “You have a strong case, Diesel. Let’s go convince the judge you’re Marigold’s future.”
I nodded and strode forward into the courtroom, almost believing his words. He was smarter and more experienced than I was, so maybe he knew more than I did about my chances.
But as soon as I looked at the raised dais where the judge sat, my stomach fell. Ian shuffled me to our table as reality came crashing down.
The bailiff stood forward to speak. “All rise. The Honorable Sarabeth Kelly presiding.”
I stared at Miss Sara in the somber black robes of a family court judge.
Miss Sara, as in Parrish’s landlady? The woman who knew everything? The woman Parrish had confided in about the sham engagement agreement, the marriage on paper only, and the horrible way I’d treated him when I’d gotten scared? God, she even knew his past with Payne’s own custody situation had been real.
“Miss Sara is a judge?” I managed to squeak out under my breath.
Ian turned a concerned look at me. “Don’t worry. She’s more