Page 77 of The Aster Valley Collection, Vol. 1

“And I loved it. Probably at first it was because it seemed to make my mom happy, but then I just really liked the challenge of growing obscure spices that I could use in cooking. As I got into growing the plants, I reached out to Berry for advice and remembered the medicinal ones she always had on hand. So I began to grow those, too.”

“Do you sell that stuff at the shop as well?”

Truman nodded. “Yeah, actually, I still produce and distribute several homeopathic products Berry was famous for. There’s an arnica salve that I can barely keep in stock.

It’s been flying off the shelves for years.

There’s also an antioxidant tea blend, but I don’t grow it.

I order the leaves and make the blend. What else…

? Oh. There’s a hypoallergenic organic soap I still make from her recipe, as well as a spray household cleaner.

Some women’s remedies,” he added with a blush, “and nutritional support blends.”

“How do you manage all of this with so little help?” I worried about him.

I knew from Mikey that Truman had a little part-time support at the shop, but it didn’t seem like he had help here at the farm itself.

That was a ton of physical work for such a small man who also needed to be in two places at once and manage the accounting and everything else.

Truman peeked over at me, hesitating. “It’s not easy.”

I wanted to laugh at the understatement, but he seemed worried about my response. “No,” I said instead. “I can’t imagine it is. Why don’t you have more help? You seem to be successful. Hell, Mikey heard about the shop before he even came to Aster Valley the first time.”

He tapped the side of his wineglass with a fingernail. “I tried to hire help when I was first starting out. No one wanted to work here. With me.”

My jaw ground tight. “That’s bullshit.”

Truman’s eyes widened in surprise. “No. It’s true.”

“I don’t mean it that way. It’s ridiculous that these dumbasses would let ancient history get in the way of decent employment. I don’t get it. You were five fucking years old, for fuck’s sake!”

As my voice raised, Truman leaned farther away from me until his chair was practically tipping over. “I’d better go check on dinner,” he said quickly before scrambling for the house.

I’d scared him.

I’d scared him after he’d done absolutely nothing wrong. I was a fucking monster. He deserved better than someone with an anger problem. Better than someone like the Stanners.

Better than someone like my own damned father.

Memories of my dad’s rage stormed into my mind against my will, making me nauseous.

My phone buzzed for the millionth time, and I no longer had a handle on my self-control. I answered it on speakerphone and then placed it on the table so I wouldn’t throw it across the meadow.

“What?” I barked.

“Finally!” My mom’s voice was relieved, but I also heard fear and desperation in it, a sound as familiar to me as the scent of her apricot hand lotion. “Where the hell are you, Sam? We need you here. Things are out of control.”

No kidding.

“I’m in Colorado,” I said.

“Well, you could have told someone you were leaving. And why now, when Kira needs you and Ethan is in the middle of tax season at work?”

While Kira had acted out with drugs, Sophie had acted out with men.

She’d thrown herself at them in hopes of finding “the one,” but, despite my attempts to keep her out of trouble, it had resulted in an unwanted pregnancy at the age of twenty and a string of asshole losers ever since.

Ethan was the latest boyfriend, but I had to admit this time seemed like the real deal, not to mention, I liked the guy.

And my mother more than liked him. She thought Ethan was Sophie’s only chance at a normal life, and she tried everything in her power not to burden him with our family issues.

I couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t Ethan’s job to deal with Kira. But it wasn’t mine either. Not anymore.

“You don’t need to do anything. Kira made her choice. And now she’s going to have to live with the consequences of her actions. We can’t keep bailing her out, Mom,” I said.

There was a long beat of silence on the other end. I thought I heard the tinkle of ice cubes, but I wasn’t sure.

“She’s sick,” she said. “Addiction is a disease. It’s not her fault.”

I let out a humorless laugh. No, it wasn’t.

And that’s why I’d spent several years dropping everything to help her and bail her out of trouble.

That’s why finally setting boundaries was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do.

“The addiction may not be her fault, but her actions are. Where does it end? If she won’t consent to treatment, we’ll be right back here again in a month or two or six.

Just like we’re right back here after last time. And the time before.”

“She didn’t have an easy childhood, Sam,” she reminded me.

I didn’t either. I bit my teeth against all of the toxic responses that threatened to rain out if I so much as opened my lips.

“She needs you,” she said softly for the millionth time. “We need you.”

What about when I needed you?

“I’ll be home in a few weeks,” I told her.

“I’m heading out to California for a break.

” I thought back to the way I’d just fucked things up with Truman.

Even my vacation was going to be pathetic now since it was pretty clear I’d spend the entire time dissecting what I’d done wrong and how I’d never have a healthy relationship as long as I lived.

“Surely your family is more important than some fancy beach vacation,” Mom snapped.

This was the expected next stage of any manipulative conversation with my mother.

First was the sweet, innocent plea. Next came the angry implication that I was selfish and snobbish.

Finally, the sullen mother guilt would wrap it all up in a tidy bow.

Sometimes followed by the bonus hanging up of the phone.

“Not right now, it’s not,” I admitted. “I’ve prioritized work and my family for fifteen years, Mom. It’s not too much to ask for a week to myself.”

“Must be nice,” she said with a sniff.

I thought of my bike crushed against the sign. The look on Truman’s face when I got angry. The possessive way Barney Balderson had held him when he’d tried defending me to the sheriff. The easy affection between Tiller and Mikey—the kind of relationship I’d never have with someone.

“Not really,” I muttered.

“You can fix this,” she said. “You’ve always fixed everything. It’s your role. You’re the fixer.”

I hated this forced narrative. I’d done what I’d needed to do out of desperation, not some innate skill or calling.

“No. Not this time. If you want this thing with Kira fixed, then fix it. You’re an adult. You have a job. You bail her out.”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through, Sam. None.”

I looked out at the streaks of color the setting sun was shooting across the clear sky.

It was so beautiful here in the valley. It almost felt like I was protected from the full weight of my family responsibility.

“I find that hard to believe. Look, Mom, I have to go. I’m sorry you’re having a tough time, but Kira needs to learn to look out for herself. ”

“She doesn’t need life lessons! She needs her brother.

She needs family. And she needs a good lawyer.

You know how awful the public defenders are!

There you sit on your high horse with all your rich friends and fancy vacations, and you can’t even spare enough money for your sister to stay out of prison? ”

My face felt numb. I thought back to all of the thousands of dollars I’d spent over the years trying to keep my sisters out of trouble, trying to get them out of trouble, then trying to cover up the trouble they’d been in. I was so fucking tired.

“Bye, Mom,” I said in a low voice before reaching out to hit the End button.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. How had I fucked everything up so completely, and how could I try to make things right with Truman? Should I even try? Or would it be better for me to spare him… whatever this was… by keeping my distance?

I opened my eyes and prepared to stand up to face the music, but I saw Truman standing over me.

“I’m sorry,” I said with as much heartfelt sincerity as I could muster. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

A wrinkle of worry marred his smooth forehead just above the dark frame of his glasses. At first, I thought it was his concern that I might have another outburst. But then he stepped closer and crawled into my lap until he was straddling me. He slipped his arms around my neck and hugged me tightly.

I froze for a beat in shock before wrapping my arms around his slender body and letting myself exhale.