Call Me Michigan (24 page)

“You and your high horse. You’ve been somethin’ better after you left, and now, you come back here, throwing around your city-girl attitude? You’re nothin’ more than a struggling cowgirl here, depending on your sister to manage the farm and your boyfriend to take care of you and your wayward daughter. Don’t think you have any right to judge me when you’re way below me.” Her once beautiful mother snarled, and Taylor wondered what had happened, what she had done to deserve that much hatred.

“What did I ever do to you, Mother? What?”

The tired features contorted in rage. “You had all the chances in the world. You could’ve gone anywhere, and you wanted to, too! And then you left your family behind to go to the big city and become rich and a snob. You turned stuck-up with all your fancy dinners and pencil skirts, and -”

Finally, it dawned on Taylor. “You’re jealous. That’s all. I had the life you wanted, and you couldn’t have. It was okay as long as everyone was stuck like you, huh? But then I decided there was more than the farm life, and you thought you could bully me into staying. Then you thought replacing me with another child would make you content again, but it didn’t work. Instead, you left them high and dry without a word or a note. I bet you never looked back, did you? You don’t care what became of them. You came here to most likely accuse me of ruining your life when the only person who really ruined it was you. You, because you didn’t open your mouth and ask Dad to leave. You, because you didn’t tell him you wanted more. You, because the only daughter who could’ve offered you an escape on regular intervals was estranged. My father loved you so much; he would’ve made everything possible for you, and you? You ran.” She rubbed her temples as a brewing headache made itself known. She finally wasn’t angry anymore. She was just tired. Her mother had ruined her own life and tried to get everyone down as well, just because she was miserable. “You ruined Tim’s childhood and Tammy’s teenage years. Nothing is left for you here, Mother.”

“You had so much money, and we struggled to get by. We made last-minute payments most of the time, while you were sipping champagne and eating caviar.”

Taylor pinched the bridge of her nose, deciding to stay quiet.

“Have you ever wondered how Dad managed to pay at the last minute, Mom? Where did he get the money from when he hadn’t had it the week prior? The day prior to paying?”

Taylor’s head snapped up while her mother swiveled around. Tamara stood in the shadows of the hallway, and Taylor’s heart was breaking. Her little sister didn’t deserve to be there. As much as she wanted to, Taylor bit her tongue to keep from declaring this was an adult talk.

“Tam,” Taylor warned quietly.

Tammy didn’t look at her, though. Her eyes focused on Bonnie. Why the hell had Mason let her go?

“You didn’t wonder because you didn’t care. Well, I’ll tell you. Taylor paid all of that.”

“Tamara Collins,” Taylor repeated, and finally, her sister’s eyes swung to her.

“How long were you going to stand there and let her accuse you of everything? How long were you ready to let her make you feel bad? Well, you’re done taking the blame for everything, Taylor! It wasn’t your fault our fucking parents weren’t decent enough to raise Tim and me. It wasn’t your fault you left and never returned. And it’s most certainly not your fault that our precious, amazing, selfless mother didn’t get what she wanted out of life. If you don’t defend yourself, someone has to do it,” her little sister snapped, and Taylor squared her shoulders. While Tammy’s Southern slang should’ve been more pronounced in her anger, college clearly started to clean up her language. It almost made Taylor smile.

“How about you go upstairs while I prepare the sofa for Bonnie, and then we’ll talk?” she instructed, her voice leaving no room for discussion, but of course, Tammy ignored that.

“I’m not -”

“Now.” This time, Tammy just huffed her cheeks and then stormed up the stairs, exactly like the young woman she was supposed to be.

Her mother was staring at her, just like earlier when she didn’t think she had to justify her actions.

“I’m gonna get you a blanket and a pillow. You can stay for the night, but tomorrow, you need to leave this house. My house,” she emphasized.

“You’re cruel,” her mother snarled, but Taylor only smiled.

“Cruel because I take in you after you insulted me? Or cruel because I deny my fiancé the right to fall asleep next to me, and my daughter the right to be tucked in by me? Because then, I agree.” She got everything from the upstairs and found her mother still standing in the same position. For a short moment, Tay could see the broken woman underneath the cold exterior: head bowed, shoulders sagged, shadows crowding the fragile body, but then her mother steeled herself and glared at everything that was Taylor’s. No, her mother couldn’t expect any sympathy from her.

“Here. And don’t get any ideas. There’s no need to make breakfast for us. Tamara and I will eat at the Stiles’ house tomorrow. I would not be mad, though, if you’re gone once we get up,” she hinted and then walked up the stairs, feeling exhausted. She wanted to crawl into bed and have Mason sing her to sleep. Hell, she wanted him there, but first, she had to deal with a pretty upset sister.

Rapping her knuckles against the wood, she didn’t wait for an answer before pushing inside. One lamp was burning on the nightstand, and her sister was facedown on the bed, crying not so silent sobs.

“I’m sorry, Tam, but I don’t want you and her in one room too long.” She started sitting down next to her sister’s trembling side.

“Why?” The question came muffled. “Because I might spill secrets, like you raising another woman’s daughter? Or you having helped here even when our parents were too proud to ask? Or about you putting seventy grand in an account for me to do with as I please?” Tamara hadn’t moved yet Taylor understood her perfectly well.

“See it as your chance at freedom. You want to spend the money here, on horses and clothes and whatever? Your choice. You decide you do want to leave, after all? Your choice. I just want you to have the best chances possible, and while it might not be enough money for Ivy League colleges, it’ll be a start to whatever you want.”

“I want the farm, Tay. This one. I want the house, and I want a family here. I want her gone. The dragon downstairs needs to leave.”

“Most importantly, she doesn’t deserve any of our stories, explanations, or attention. Why didn’t you stay at Mason’s? He was supposed to keep you,” Taylor pointed out, and finally, Tammy turned to her.

“Didn’t want to. After I had heard that you were alone with our mother here, in this house, I needed to come. Mason was prowling the door as if he was ready to pounce it and leave, too, and it was driving me crazy. I think he’s hurting for you. This is ... you’re not gonna leave again now that she’s back, are you?”

Her sister looked so young, so vulnerable as she asked that, that Taylor had to swallow.

“Why in the world would I leave?”

“Mason would follow you everywhere, and you don’t want the farm. Nothing is keeping you here now.” She sobbed quietly, and Taylor cuddled up next to her sister, pulling her close.

“I have you and Tim, and while I might not love this farm the way you do, it’s a family thing, and I want it to be here when either of you is old enough to take it over or sell it. I don’t care which way, but until then, I’m going to keep it running as good as I can. Never again will I walk out of your or Timothy’s life, Tamara. You hear me? In it for life. We’re a family, and I’ll be your sister when you need it, your mother when it’s necessary, and your friend whenever you want it. I’m going to kick your ass when you deserve it and be proud as hell all the other times. I know you’re going to insist that you’re grown up and all that stuff, but it won’t keep me from crying at your graduation, or wedding, or when I’ll be an aunt for the first time ever. Our parents might not cherish the Collins’ name, but I sure do, and it’ll stay that way, too.”

“You’ll be a Stiles soon,” Tammy remarked. Butterflies erupted in Taylor’s stomach.

“That’s true, but at heart, I’m a Collins, and I’ll always be. Don’t worry about me leaving. This is our house, our family, and we take care of it. We don’t need our parents. Bonnie had a hold on me for the longest time. I’d get up with a stomachache because guilt would weigh me down each and every second but no more. I got out stronger on the other side, even though it might have taken a kick or two by a very handsome cowboy we both know.” She more felt than heard Tamara giggle, and that was all that mattered really.

“I miss Dad.” The sentence was uttered so low, Taylor wasn’t sure if she maybe had only imagined it.

“I’m not surprised,” she decided to say and then sat up. The sooner she’d get to sleep, the quicker the morning would come.

“Stella’s making pancakes for Tim and Becca tomorrow. I think we should be back in time for that, too,” she suggested, and Tammy sat up, too.

“I think you’re right,” she agreed. “Tell Mason hi,” she then added with a wink.

“Lock your door. I’d rather not have Bonnie sneak in on you tonight to try to tell you whatever. Unless you’re ready to talk to her.” It was pretty obvious that Tamara wasn’t ready because she stood as Taylor stood.

“Love you, sis. So much, it hurts,” Tamara whispered and then squeezed her tight.

“That’s just the headache from our mom showing up.” Taylor winked, kissed Tamara’s cheek, and then she left, vanishing in her own bedroom and locking the door behind her.

She didn’t bother to undress, but instead fell on the bed and got her phone out of her pocket.

“Mason,” she whispered the moment he had picked up.

“I love you. I love you so damn much,” he replied as a way of greeting and finally tears spilled down Taylor’s cheeks. They were freeing, as if all the evil thoughts and pain her mother had put into her ran out, cleansing Taylor inside out.

“Serenade me, Mason,” she pleaded. “Make me feel as if I am by your side.”

She heard him shifting and sheets rustling, picturing him on his bed, one hand resting on her side while he got comfortable, then he started singing, and she cried silently while he sang her country songs about hope, passion, love, and a future.

Mason hadn’t closed his eyes all night, singing to Taylor until she had fallen asleep. His heart was aching at everything her mother had most likely said to her, and he hurt for all the things Taylor had already been hearing at their house. His mother had been kind enough to repeat it all for him, and he just wanted to hurt someone, even though he wasn’t the type to hit women. Or people, in general, if he could avoid it.

His daughter came down the stairs, and he only knew because of the low thump the stuffed animal made on each step as it was pulled down. Becca looked ready to cry, and it made Mason kneel. He wore sweatpants and a shirt, not sure if he’d stay inside the house if he dressed in jeans and his boots. The chances of him running out and going over to Taylor’s farm were just too high, and he tried everything to avoid that.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted her, and she wiped her wrist under her nose, eyes still lowered to the floor while her curls twisted and turned in all directions. Rebecca was a picture of misery, and it didn’t help Mason’s mood.

“Hey, Daddy,” she replied, sniffing.

“What’s up?” he wanted to know even though he could guess very well.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” she answered, sniffing another time.

She passed him, avoiding his hands, and then pulled out a chair in the kitchen. The stuffed rabbit - or whatever it was, Mason couldn’t tell for sure - landed on the table as she scrambled up on the seat, her pink PJs riding up to reveal a fake tattoo that was already rubbing off again. It was something Taylor allowed her to have whenever Mason was not there.

Once Becca was up, she rested her head on the tabletop, sighing.

Next up, Tim came down the stairs, still in PJs, eyes downcast, walking by him without acknowledging Mason. He, too, sat down on a chair and rested his head on the table. Mason couldn’t resist, pulling out his phone to film that misery-times-two.

“Hey, buddy. What’s up?” he asked, having a hard time to keep the smile out of his voice.

“Nothin’,” the boy drawled. “I’m fine.” Long sigh.

“Becca, wanna have pancakes?” he inquired.

“Nah, not hungry,” his daughter gave back, sniffing.

“Do you miss Mom?” he wanted to know, and his daughter turned to him. Her eyes filled with tears, and the corners of her mouth pulled so deep, Mason was sure she was trying to form a circle.

She nodded and Mason stopped the video, hitting send to make sure Taylor saw it. He just knew it would draw a smile from her lips.

“She’s coming back,” he reassured the children, and Becca wiped underneath her nose with the ear of her rabbit.

“Sure?” she asked, and Mason nodded. He missed Taylor just as much as the other two did.

Stella came in and arched a brow when she saw the table. Mason shrugged and then leaned against the wall, watching. His mother patted Becca’s hair and then leaned in to kiss the top of Timmy’s head before she pulled out a chair, too.