“Maggie, you could paint each wall a different color and I wouldn’t care. It’s your room; you can do anything you would like with it.”
The whole motherhood thing is still kind of throwing me for a loop. We got into our first real mother-daughter fight two nights ago because I wouldn’t let her sleep over a friend’s house on a school night. It was the end of the fucking world. Screams and I hate you’s flew through the air. My feelings genuinely were hurt until Chrome reassured me it was pretty typical for her age. Once everyone woke the following morning, it was completely forgotten. I remember doing the same to my own mother, except my outbursts never impacted her at all.
“Star, I need to know which color is going where?” Chrome’s arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me in close. He grazes his lips to my temple and the room fills with hoots and hollers. I have never been one for public displays of affection, but I’ll never get enough of his hands on me.
“The yellow and cream is for the kitchen and dining room. The sea green is for the bathroom downstairs, and the grey is for the office in the back. I think that’s all I have for down here. Magnolia and I will handle the two bedrooms upstairs.” I turn in his arms and give him a wink.
“Tomorrow, I have to set up the furniture delivery. By Sunday, we should be out of your place completely.”
I ignore the look of disappointment on his face. He doesn’t want us to leave, but there are so many reasons why living together just isn’t the best idea. Even beyond the fact that we have known each other for a few weeks at most. Seven can have her overnight happily ever after, but for me; I need some time for the situation to grow on me.
I did, however, include Scarlett in the planning of the house. There are so many rooms in this place, so one of the spare bedrooms has been designated hers. She can do whatever she chooses with it. Chrome and I argued over it, but I totally won; that’s becoming a pattern.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he says, but I won’t let that change the fact that I know this is the right thing to do. I won’t let him pressure me. I bought this house for a reason; it’s part of my healing.
“This discussion was over days ago, Atticus.” I shoot him my death stare and use his real name, telling him I mean business. It is funny to watch him back down.On the topic of healing, my first session with my therapist is next Tuesday. I talked with Seven at length, but I realized, no matter how much unloading on her helps, I need professional help. I can’t spill the fact that I gunned her brother down in cold blood. As much as I want to just forget it ever happened. He was still her brother. No matter how shitty he was to us over the years, no matter how much she hates him, this is a secret I will be forced to keep to myself for eternity. I’m not up for fancy medication; I just need someone to help me work through the problems I have overcome so they can stay in my past.
What can I say? Life is good. For the first time, I can honestly say that and believe it.
EPILOGUE
Almost three weeks have gone by since Magnolia and I moved into the first place I can honestly call a home. The same goes for her, and I can tell she genuinely appreciates the stability I have been able to provide. She doesn’t say much; she’s shy, which reminds me of how I was as a child. I often wonder if someone hurt her the way Blue hurt me, but I have to push the thought out of my mind and pray nothing happened. Maybe, in time, we can have that heart to heart, but now we are still just trying to get to know each other.
I found this adorable restaurant a couple towns over that offered full catering for Thanksgiving. In the past, we have never done much. Seven and I would head out to dinner at some posh Manhattan restaurant, eat something completely nontraditional, and then get absolutely shit-housed. This year, though, I wanted to make it about family. My family, the new family I have created. Blended with the only family I have known over the years.
The guest list became lengthy when I allowed Chrome to bring in the wayward guys from the club who really had no place else to go for the holiday. I felt bad, because I know the feeling of being unwanted, the feeling of trying to find your place when everyone you depend on has turned their backs. A handful of the guys decided to join us. Ryker, Cowboy, and Diesel have been a staple in our day-to-day lives for weeks, and they are front and center in our festivities. Zane, Chrome’s brother, made his way home for the first time in months, along with Jett, another club member.
Seven, Levi, and Paisley made the drive up from the city. I’m planning on begging Paisley to stay here with me. I still don’t know what happened to her in Florida; Seven wasn’t able to get any information out of her. It was clearly bad, and something she plans on repeating to no one. The guest bedroom at the end of the hallway will be hers if I can work my magic. River has been spending a lot of time with her in the short time she has been here. I know he is an amazing friendly ear when anyone needs it. They aren’t half bad to look at together, either.
I invited Journey. I didn’t want to, considering I still feel incredibly betrayed by her, but the holidays are about moving on, forgiving, and acceptance. She never replied, and as of yet, she hasn’t shown, either.
The dining room is jam-packed, completely dwarfing the sprawling twelve person dining room table I insisted would be enough when we moved in. Silly me; who would have thought my life would become so chaotic so quickly? I certainly didn’t.
People sit at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, the small two person dining table in the kitchen nook, and most importantly, smack dab in front of the television in the family room. Apparently, football is a big deal on Thanksgiving, but you could have fooled me.
“Dinner!” I yell through the lively halls of the house, cuing everyone that our delivered meal is ready at last. Chairs scrape across the hardwood floors, boots stomp down the hallways, and the kitchen floods with all the people whom I have come to call family.
“This is all perfect.” Magnolia appears by my side with Scarlett not far behind. The girls are fascinated by the scene before them. I would be, too, if I didn’t Google the shit out of how to plan a family Thanksgiving.
If you could only have seen my ass on Pinterest trying to make these fucking centerpieces no one has batted an eye at twice, you would have laughed. At least I gave it a try, right?
“Go get your plates, girls.”
They get in line between their aunts and a bunch of big bikers. I wouldn’t call this a Normal Rockwell Thanksgiving, but it is a perfect new Starburst Bloom Thanksgiving, that’s for sure.
“Honey, go get your plate.” Chrome comes up behind me, scaring me half to death. His hands are full, one holding onto a plate stacked a mile high with turkey and all the fixings. The other grips my ass cheek through the thin fabric of my knee length brown dress.
“I’m on it. I just wanted to make sure everyone else gets a plate first.”
Seven walks by with a plate and I smile at new traditions for our new beginning as a family. We have been through so many years together that being together in such a positive way warms my heart.
“I never thought I would see the day when this porn star bitch could put together a fucking Martha Stewart holiday. I think Hell just froze over.” Seven laughs, and I can’t help but join her. I guess Hell did just freeze over.
“Leave the dishes. We’ll clean up in the morning, Star.” Chrome grabs the empty mashed potato tray from my hands and tosses it on the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Everyone is gone, and I have been watching you strut around the house in this little brown dress all day. All I’ve wanted to do is peel it off you and have a feast of my own.”