to an old wound. “I’m not the fuckup I used to be, Thea. Give me some credit.”
Thea reeled back. “I have never called you a fuckup.” Thea had just enough sincerity in her voice to make Liv feel guilty.
It was true. Thea had never said those words to Liv. She was just projecting. Liv had called herself a fuckup enough times in her life that it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. But she thought she was beyond those days. Now here she was—unemployed and carrying a heavy secret that she had no idea how to deal with.
“Please just let me help you,” Thea said, leaning forward again. “Let me pay off your loans, or—”
“No.”
“Gavin and I have more money than we know what to do with, and you’re family.”
“Stop, Thea. I’m not taking money from you.”
Thea tossed her arms in the air with a frustrated sound. “Why? What is wrong with accepting my help?”
“Because that’s all I’ve done my entire life!” Liv blurted. She instantly regretted it. Thea got that look on her face—that half mom, half best friend look that had always been the defining balancing act of their relationship.
“Look, I will find another job,” Liv said quickly before Thea could launch into one of her sisterly lectures. “I don’t know when or where.” Or if Royce will try to ruin me. “But I will find something.”
Thea bit her lip. “What about working for Mack?”
Liv snorted. “Uh, no.”
“Why not?”
Liv shoveled in another bite and chased it down with orange juice. “I worked in a bar for three years during school. I don’t want to do it again.”
“But this would just be temporary until you can find another pastry chef job.”
“No.”
Thea opened her mouth as if to argue further but then apparently thought better of it. Instead, she turned her ire onto Royce. “I can’t believe that jerk. After everything you’ve put up with, the hours you’ve worked, the holidays you’ve missed, the abuse you’ve had to endure. Just like that, you’re done because of one mistake?”
Not exactly. Liv didn’t say it or correct Thea’s misunderstanding. Liv didn’t know what she was going to do, but she did know one thing: she was not going to tell her sister the whole story about how and why she got fired. Telling her the truth meant getting her involved, and Liv was not going to drag her sister into this mess. Liv had already been the cause of too much trouble for Thea throughout their lives. The past two years had been the only ones when she hadn’t been a major burden on her sister. There was no way she was going to turn back the clock now.
The slide of the French doors in the living room brought their conversation to a quick, blessed end. Ava and Amelia ran into the kitchen, pigtails swinging in unison.
“Aunt Livvie!” Ava yelled, throwing herself against Liv’s legs.
Liv crouched down and gathered them into a tight hug. They smelled like the outdoors and strawberry shampoo.
“Can you play with us?” Amelia asked.
“You know what? I actually have to get going—”
“What?” Thea said. “Where are you going?”
“—but I promise I will be back soon to play, okay?”
The girls nodded and pulled away. Liv stood just as Gavin and Mack shuffled nervously into the kitchen. Their eyes darted between Liv and Thea as if asking permission to enter.
She needed to get out of there before the interrogation started again.
“My offer stands, Liv,” Mack said, sober in a way she wouldn’t have expected from him.
“I appreciate it. Really. But I’ll find something,” she said. She looked at Thea then. “And I can’t take your money. This is something I need to figure out on my own.”
“No, you don’t,” Thea said.
“Then can you just accept that I want to?”
Thea’s face softened with understanding—an expression Liv had only ever seen on one other person in her life. If not for Thea and Gran Gran, Liv would have been lost.
Liv closed the distance to Thea and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Trust me,” she whispered. “I’ll be okay.”
Thea gave her a squeeze and lowered her voice. “I do trust you.”
Liv escaped before Thea could see how much those words meant to her. And how desperately she wanted to live up to them.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning, Liv’s landlord, Rosie, tucked a hen named Gladys under one arm and planted her free hand on her other hip. “I was burning my bra forty years ago over shit like this, and it’s still happening.”