I Can Fix That

Chapter 15

After the bake drive this afternoon, I was exhausted and covered in sweets. My hair was shoved into a messy bun, and the shoes I had on were now wholly ruined. But it was a great time. Only a few other teachers showed up, so I had to pick up most of the slack. I didn’t mind, though; it meant more time with the excellent quality teachers we had.

Hannah took cash, and the other girls and I were in charge of sorting and plating. It was easy for the first thirty minutes, but when a wave of people came by, we were so overwhelmed I couldn’t even tell you what day it was.

When I got out of the shower, there was a light knocking on the door. I ran through my mind, thinking who it could be. I made my way to my bedroom and quickly threw on the closest outfit, which was atrocious. However, whoever was at the door showed up unannounced, and I wasn’t ready for company. The knocking began again, faster paced this time. “June Hart, you better open this door right now.” Mom?

She hadn’t visited my apartment since I first moved in, and after the first glimpse, she was not impressed.

I opened the door, and sure enough, my mother was with her arms crossed and her foot tapping against the concrete floors.

“What are you doing here?”

She opened her arms and placed them on her hips. “I have called you over and over this week. How did I know if you were even alive?” I opened the door wider, silently inviting her in.

The only reason she was so persistent about us being in touch lately was so she could coerce me into selling Gram’s house and sharing the money with them. Before I inherited that, she would go months without talking to me.

“I’m fine. I’ve been busy with work.” In other words, I didn’t have time to answer the phone and be pestered by you.

“June, you need to stop rebelling against us so hard. You have always been such a good girl.” She patted my hair down, attempting to tame the wild, wet mess. “I think this house has become an obsession of yours. And I know this boy you’ve hired is not helping the situation. The girls at the club say they have been seeing him with you quite often. It doesn’t look good for our family for you to be around a man like that. What would Gram think?”

I was no longer able to keep my opinions to myself. “Grant has nothing to do with this. I cannot be who you or Dad or any of you want me to be. You may measure success as money or status, but in my eyes, success is defined by the impact I make on others. So excuse me if I don’t make as much as my brothers or if I’m not as academically impressive to your country club friends. As far as what Gram would want she would tell me to live there because it meant everything to her. That’s the whole problem, she was the only one who ever wanted me to be who I was. She’s the one that told me to follow my own path and just because I don’t fit into your cookie cutter lifestyle-”

She interrupted me. “Now, June—”

“No. I am sick of no one listening to me. I am not selling, and the house is built well and on wonderful acreage. I love every piece of it, regardless of what you or Dad think. I don’t care if no one wants to see it. Gram left it for me because she knew you would sell it and never think about her again.”

She crossed her arms defensively, taking a look around my dirty kitchen. “Why is there icing on your ceiling?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Seriously? I just went on a rant about my thoughts of the house and how you need to understand me, and you were too busy noticing my dirty kitchen to even hear me.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s hard to think of anything other than this giant mess.”

I balled my fists at my side. “I think you should go.” My voice was sharp. I was past the point of being kind. I wasn’t usually so abrupt, but I couldn’t handle this anymore. I looked at my mother, staring at her forehead, too angry to meet her eyes.

“I’m trying to make you understand.”

I nodded, frustrated tears threatening to fall. “I understand, Mom. I need you to understand I will not be selling, and I will not be getting money from the property. I really think you need to go.”

She opened her mouth to reject me, but I simply turned away from her. “I hope you know the mistake you’re making with this house and with that man.” She slammed the door, and the apartment fell silent.

I will not cry for her. I will not cry for her. I repeated these instructions in my head, inhaling and exhaling in paced breaths. I needed to get out of here, anywhere but this cold apartment.

I reached for my phone, beginning to call Ashley, when I remembered her date with Beau was tonight. Considering how excited she was when we spoke about it, I couldn’t bother her with my family drama.

I scrolled down to the contact of the only other person I wanted to see. I clicked the contact, and it rang once before I heard the answer.

“Hart? Is everything okay?”

I sucked in a breath, my voice cracking as I replied, “Can I come over? I, um. I didn’t know who else to call.” Tears fell down my cheeks, and my throat was tight.

Rage seeped through his voice on my phone’s speaker, “What happened?”

I sniffled, wishing it was as simple as something I could easily explain over the phone. Instead, I had an entire clan of unsupportive family members and the collective decision being made for me, once again.

“I just need to see you.”

“Of course. I’ll come to get you.”