Page 10 of The Sunny Side (Rojo 2nd Generation: Rojo Police Department #3)

“Just like it’s my job to take care of the two of you - which is what I’ll be doing tomorrow when I outfit your homes with things adults need.

You know . . . bath mats, real dishes . .

.” I put my hand on my chest and gasped before I said, “I might even buy you . . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . . silverware!”

“Sarcasm is not a good look on you.”

“Honey, I make everything look good,” I boasted, even though I did not think that at all. “Love you! Don’t forget to be ready by ten!”

I laughed as Darcy closed the door to lock it behind me because she was muttering under her breath, “Nag nag nag. Gawd!”

I looked down at Cupcake and smiled as she burrowed into my chest. Once I was in my SUV, I put her food on the floorboard and then settled her into the carrier that was buckled into the passenger seat. I had a lot to do today, and I was going to try to keep the promise I made to my sister.

A walk around the park may actually do some good. I glanced over at my lazy, pampered dog and chuckled to myself. Whether she was interested or not, Cupcake could use the exercise too.

I decided to do some cleaning rather than start on the next step in the project I had underway, and a few hours later, I was content with my progress.

All of my paint and supplies were organized on a shelf in the laundry room, and I put the tools I’d acquired over the last two weeks in a tub since I’d most likely be using them a lot during the course of my remodel.

Once I was done, I looked around, exhilarated at how much I’d accomplished. I checked the weather app on my phone and found it had cooled off significantly outside because there were thunderstorms in the forecast.

I was still surfing the “look at how much I’ve gotten done today” high, so I kept it going with some “look at me exercising like a healthy person” energy. Once I pulled Cupcake’s harness and leash out of her basket, she seemed just as excited as I felt.

I let Cupcake lead me out the front door and didn’t bother locking it behind myself before I followed her to the sidewalk.

I had almost instantly fallen in love with this neighborhood, but even more, I immediately felt safe here.

The second I saw the inside of the house I’d chosen, I was overwhelmed with ideas of what I wanted to do to make it my home.

That, besides the comfort and security of the neighborhood, made my decision to buy it easy.

For as long as I could remember, I had watched home renovation shows and flipped through magazines about cozy decor.

I knew that part of that was in rebellion against how our house changed after our mother died.

As soon as Collette got her claws into our father, she started changing things.

After that, our house never felt like a home at all - more like a mausoleum that had to be perfect at all times.

The decor had monetary value, not emotional value, which made the house feel formal and uncomfortable.

Even the furniture was chosen because of its worth instead of its comfort.

The pristine white carpet in the living room, complete with the blinding white couch, didn’t exactly invite people to relax. And God forbid anyone consider carrying a drink out of the kitchen to anywhere else in the house.

Just like my sisters, my bedroom suite was my sanctuary, and luckily, it was far enough away from my stepmother’s orbit to keep her from dropping by often.

On the rare occasions she did, she spewed insults about the “bohemian aesthetic” and wrinkled her nose at the thought of even trying to find a place to sit anywhere in the space.

Considering the size of the stick up her ass, I wasn’t sure she’d be able to anyway.

The one home that I’d always felt comfortable in was my grandmother’s.

Yes, it was an immense house, just like the one I was raised in, but every room felt cozy and just made you feel like you were home.

The rooms were filled with bright colors, the furniture was inviting, the books on the shelves were well loved, and the coasters on the coffee table invited you to sit down with a drink and make yourself comfortable.

I loved visiting Grandma’s because I could always be myself there - something I could never do at home.

Just like me, my sisters spent as much time as they could there, usually only going home when Collette insisted because she knew we were having fun and relaxing, something she thought was a waste of time.

Our grandmother had a standing in the social community that Collette would just about kill for, but it was pretty clear that was the only way she’d ever become as powerful as she thought of herself.

Our grandmother only used her position to do good unless someone crossed her.

She’d let the claws out then, and it was always a sight to behold.

She was a force to be reckoned with - even Collette rarely tried to go against her.

Our sweet grandmother, who spent hours having tea parties with me and my sisters, talking about everything and nothing all at once and smiling at every opportunity, could flip a switch when angry and wield that old money and social standing like a weapon when she was pushed too far.

Collette found that out quickly, so she left us alone, for the most part, when Grandma was involved.

After our grandmother passed away suddenly when I was fourteen, Collette tried her hardest to erase every good thing Grandma had taught us and replace it with her shitty socialite mentality.

Luckily, my sisters and I had already learned how to handle ourselves in the world Collette wanted so badly to be a part of, and we played our roles perfectly to keep her off of our asses.

One by one, we finally escaped to college, which we made sure was as far away from Collette’s reach as possible, and were able to relax again.

When I moved away, I convinced my father to invest in a three-bedroom townhome, using the ruse that I would watch over Darcy and Tansy once they joined me on campus and make sure they adhered to our evil stepmother’s strict standards.

I assured him we’d dress appropriately, make all the right friends, avoid people who didn’t match our social standing, and represent the Middleton name like Collette would expect.

Dad fell for it, and since “out of sight, out of mind” was his and Collette’s parenting style, we finally got to unwind and live a little.

When I graduated from college, I did what was expected of me and moved back to Denver to take my place in society, just as Collette had molded the three of us to do.

I lived in the townhome Dad had given me as a graduation present - the same property that I now knew was never put in my name - and was joined by my sisters once they received their degrees and came back to Denver.

We looked and behaved exactly how we were supposed to because we knew that we’d receive the inheritance Grandma left us one day, and then we would be free to go our own way without any financial worries.

We were all smart enough to know that would be a problem if our father cut us off like he threatened to do every time we didn’t toe the line.

I shook away the thoughts about my father and stepmother and how horrible it was to play the part of the perfect daughter all those years.

I guess while I’d been walking down memory lane, I had already made it around the large park that was across the street from my house.

I decided to make another lap since it was so pleasant and cool out.

Cupcake trotted in front of me, her short legs going a mile a minute as the bows Darcy had put behind her ears bounced with every step. She was content to walk even farther, and so was I. As a matter of fact, this was so relaxing that I thought I should add it to our nightly routine.

I knew that walking around the park wasn’t exactly what my sisters meant when they said I should get out of the house and socialize, but it was a step in the right direction and the only one I was willing to take right now.