I declined Ellen’s offer under the guise of not wanting to move out to the middle of nowhere and live far away from my friends. But really, I just didn’t want Ellen to have to take more heat than necessary from my mom and deal with whatever temper tantrums she decided to throw throughout my remaining years.
So I stayed in my mother’s house and settled for visiting Ellen as often as possible. She used to drive into Copper Springs and pick Charity and me up from school on Fridays so we could stay the weekend at Willow Inn.
The summer we were fourteen, Charity and I got to stay at the inn for two weeks. It was two weeks of ice cream and movies and late-night fun with Ellen. That was the summer Ellen started calling me Pixie. I’m glad she never stopped.
Sandra Marshall’s scolding voice rakes over my nerves as I hear her chatter away downstairs.
Goddammit, my mother is here. I thought I was free, but now the very person I’ve been trying to get away from my whole life is downstairs yelling at Haley about eating carbs.
34 Levi
I occupy myself with outdoor jobs all day before heading back inside, hoping to avoid Sandra Marshall.
There are only three ways I can enter the inn. I can go through the front door—but Sandra might be in the lobby. I can go through the main back door—but Sandra might be in the library or by Ellen’s office. Or I can go through the kitchen’s back door.
Kitchen it is.
I wipe my shoes on the mat outside and let myself in.
“Hey, handsome.” Mable smiles warmly at me. “I made honey croissants. Want some?”
“Always.” I take a croissant from her and bring it to my mouth. Pixie’s over by the sink, her hair pulled back from her face so her cheeks and nose look extra small. Her yellow apron is covered in flour and what looks like chocolate, and I notice she’s wearing nicer clothes than usual.
Our eyes meet.
She looks away.
Sandra enters the kitchen and frowns at Mable. “Croissants are not good for a woman your age. Are you trying to die?”
Mable arches a brow. “Are you?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mother.” Pixie rolls her eyes as she starts kneading dough on the counter. “Quit insulting everyone.”
Sandra isn’t listening to her daughter, though. She’s looking at me.
Here we go.
I’d been working at Willow Inn for only three weeks the first time Sandra Marshall came to visit her sister. I hadn’t seen Sandra since Charity’s funeral, and I didn’t expect her to speak to me at all.
But she did.
“You work here now,” she stated with disgust as I hung a painting on the lobby wall.
I turned around with a hammer in my hand, not sure if she wanted me to respond.
“My sister says you live here, as well,” she added. “Do your parents approve of this arrangement? Oh wait. That’s right. They’ve moved away.” She clucked her tongue. “You just destroyed your whole family, didn’t you? First your sister, then your parents.”
I clenched my fist around the hammer.
“Can’t say that I blame them.” She looked me up and down with a pitiful sigh. “You look just like her.” She shook her head. “Your poor mother. I bet she curses the day you were born.” And then Sandra Marshall turned and left, walking out of the inn like she hadn’t just ripped out my heart and verbalized every fear I had hidden inside.
I stood, hammer in hand, staring after her for long, hot minutes, waiting for my heart to stop pounding in fury. But I couldn’t shake the pain in my chest. Because she was right. I was the reason Charity was dead.
And now we meet again, this time in the kitchen. Sandra’s evil eyes narrow in on me, and I’m the same guilty boy I was six months ago.
She purses her lips. “Judging by the muck and stench you’re covered in, I guess you still work here.”
I smile tightly. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“No, you’re not,” she sneers.
“Leave Levi alone.” Pixie glares at her mother.
“I most certainly will not leave him alone. He almost killed you last year!” Sandra turns to me. “And you scarred her too. No man’s ever going to appreciate her naked now. Does that make you happy?”
Mable gasps, all color draining from her face.
I feel like Sandra just punched me in the stomach.
“Mom!” Pixie looks humiliated.
“Well, it’s the truth, Sarah!” she says. “You’re only half-pretty to begin with, but with that giant scar through your skin—and across your chest, no less—it’s just… well, repulsive.”
All feeling drains from my fingertips as I stand frozen by the counter. I can’t breathe. I’m torn between wanting to kill myself and wanting to kill Sandra Marshall.
I might do both.
“You hush your mouth, Sandy,” Mable says. “That’s no way to speak to your beautiful baby girl.”
Pixie looks like she’s going to cry, and my decision is made. I’m going to kill her mother first, then myself.
Sandra rolls her eyes. “Oh now, Sarah, don’t get emotional.”
“You need to leave, Sandra,” I say. And I call her Sandra because formalities are way the fuck over.
She whips her eyes to me. “I’m not going to take orders from the janitor.”
“Then the janitor will be escorting you out,” I say.
“Mom, can you just go?” Pixie’s voice sounds small, and I hate the defeat I hear in it.
Sandra looks appalled. “And leave you here with this”—she looks me up and down like I’m a criminal—“filthy, despicable, sister-killing boy?”
And that’s the end of any strength I had. Sandra played the Charity card, and all the oxygen has officially left my lungs.
“You are a horrid woman,” Pixie says, straightening her shoulders. “You are truly awful, and I hate that we share DNA.” She points to the dining room door. “Leave.”
“But we haven’t even had dinner.”
“You didn’t come for dinner. You came to be a bitch and remind me how very worthless I am. And you know what? Mission accomplished.” Pixie throws the rolling pin down. “I’m ugly. I’m scarred. I’m worthless. Whatever.” Her eyes harden. “I might be all of those things, but you know what I’ll never be?” She pauses. “You.”
She’s more confident than I’ve ever seen her before, and I’m so proud.
“And you,” Pixie continues, “are the ugliest thing in this room.”
So fucking proud.
Sandra runs cool eyes over her daughter, looking her down in condescension, and mutters, “I knew I should have had an abortion.” Then she turns and walks out of the kitchen.