The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4 (Cursed #3-4) - Rebecca Donovan Page 0,143
can wear them.
“I’m going to Nantucket with the Harrisons,” I reply dismissively. And my nose may have turned up ever so slightly at her reply.
“Of course you are. Pretending to fit into a world you don’t belong to, as usual.”
I scoff. “And what male-bashing riot are you participating in this time? Did someone hold a door open for you and completely offend you?”
“Enough,” my mother barks, wiping her hands on a towel as she walks in from the kitchen. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You girls can have and stand up for any damn life you want. No one here has to pretend to be anything. Just because you’re in college, it doesn’t mean you don’t have plenty to learn.” She shoots Helen a look, but before I can be too smug about it, my mother redirects her hard glare at me. “And if your sister wants to stand up for an injustice, regardless of what she believes in, then she has every right to do so. We don’t all believe in the chivalristic bullshit you do.”
I cross my arms and purse my lips, matching Helen’s scowl. I can see her fighting back whatever insult she feels I deserve. But we both know it’s useless once Mom intercedes. My sister and I could not be any more opposite if we tried. It’s amazing we grew up in the same house, only a year and a half apart. It feels more like we were raised on different planets.
“The Harrisons should be here any moment to pick you up. You might as well wait for them on the front porch. What time will you be back on Monday?”
“I’m not sure which ferry they booked, but they usually leave in the morning. So I should be back in the afternoon sometime.”
“Enjoy your weekend,” she says before walking back into the kitchen, “but don’t forget where you came from.”
Like I ever could.
But I know she’s not talking about privilege. She’s talking about the constant reminder not to trust anyone, especially men. My mother is extremely jaded when it comes to letting people get close to her. Ever since our father left her with three girls under four to run off to who knows where with someone older with nothing but the clothes on his back.
I’m not sure what bothers my mother the most—that the woman was ten years older than her or that she was as dirt poor as we are. It doesn’t make sense … unless he really loved her. And there’s no way my mother can ever be convinced of that. Instead, she thinks the woman lied to our father, convinced him she could give him something my mother couldn’t … like a son. Or a chance at wealth. Or … I don’t know exactly—this is usually where I start blanking out, not able to listen to her go on about how men are untrustworthy. To never believe a single word, especially if they tell you they love you. She makes love sound like it’s a weapon of mass destruction.
I’m sorry he hurt her. I really am. But not every man is like my father. And I honestly can’t be angry with him if he left for love. Love is the only thing we’re meant to experience in this life, and if he had to leave my mother to find it, I want that for him. It just stinks that we’ll never see him again because of my mother’s wrath. I refuse to believe he intended to leave his girls behind forever.
I half-carry and half-drag my suitcase down the stairs with Helen looking on silently from the landing, not offering to help. I’d never expect her to. And just as I roll it out onto the front steps, the Harrisons’ shiny silver Lexus SUV pulls into the driveway.
I smile brightly as the driver’s door opens, hoping the back door will as well. But I know Kaden’s not with them. He’s been on the island all week, and it wouldn’t make sense for him to come all this way just to sit with me on the ferry. But my heart still hopes.
“Hi, Faye,” Mr. Harrison greets me, walking around the vehicle toward me. “Let me get that for you.” He takes my suitcase from me like it weighs nothing, and I follow him to the car.
The passenger window rolls down as I approach. “Hi, Faye. Ready for this weekend?”
“Hi, Mrs. Harrison,” I reply. “I’ve been looking forward to this weekend since we