Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)

Violet’s mood on the flight home was morose by comparison, but we didn’t hold it against her. She didn’t want the trip to end.

Gayle hesitates before asking, “You and Henry. Are you two planning on … having children?” She flinches, as if just hearing herself ask the question pains her because she doesn’t want to invade our privacy. So opposite to Mama.

“Yes, that is the plan.”

“Soon?”

“Sooner than later. After the wedding, though.” The topic hasn’t come up since Henry’s teasing on Christmas Eve, but each time I reach for a new package of birth control pills, I waffle over the idea of not opening it, of tossing them out.

Her eyebrows draw together. There’s something heavy on her mind.

“What’s wrong, Gayle?”

“Oh, nothing. We just worry about what will happen to Violet after we’re gone. We can’t help it, at our age. That’s what you do. You don’t worry about the inevitable. Instead, you worry about all your loved ones moving on with their lives when you’re no longer here, and you hope everything will be okay.” She chuckles softly. “And people move on. They have babies and get busy, they don’t see each other as often, that sort of thing.”

I think I see where Gayle’s thoughts are gathering. “Violet is a part of our family now and she will always be Henry’s daughter, no matter how many more children he has.”

Gayle inhales sharply. “That’s a relief to hear, dear. Thank you for saying that.”

Violet’s door flies open and she emerges, a duffel bag in her grip. “Does this work?” She poses to model the black leggings and red tunic sweater she threw on.

“Perfect.”

“Great, ’cause I don’t have anything else clean.”

“Oh, I can wash your clothes for you while you’re gone.” Gayle smiles up at her granddaughter.

“No, Gramma, I’ve got it. You can’t be going down to the basement. What if you fall?”

“I’ll go slow.”

Violet shakes her head. “Please don’t make me worry about you while I’m gone. I’ll do all the laundry when I’m back tomorrow.”

After a beat, Gayle nods. “I’ll leave it for you.” But her shoulders slump.

“Do you need anything? Tea?”

She holds up a mug. “You already made me one, remember?”

“Or a sandwich?”

“Oh, don’t fuss over me.” Gayle waves her off. “We’ll be fine.”

Violet’s brow wrinkles. “You sure?”

“Of course! Go and have fun with Abbi at the bridal shower. We’ll see you tomorrow. Give me a kiss.”

Violet stoops to kiss Gayle’s forehead with a murmured “Love you, Gramma.”

We wave our goodbyes and head outside, into the cold.

But Violet seems down.

“You okay?”

She peers over her shoulder at the house. “I feel guilty about leaving them alone overnight.”

“Did you want to stay here? You don’t have to come with me.”

“No, that’s the thing. I want to! And Gramma wouldn’t let me stay, anyway. It’s just hard, you know? She needs help getting out of bed. Her body’s really stiff from the arthritis. Gramps is usually the one to help her, but with him being sick, I’ve been doing it.”

My heart aches for her. And for Gayle. “Getting old sucks.” Being sixteen and feeling like a caregiver to your elderly guardians isn’t any easier. “I’ll bet they love the extra time they’re getting with you though.” I open the tailgate on the SUV so Violet can toss her bag in.

“Yeah.” She bites her bottom lip as she peers back at the house. “They were going to sell this place and move to a retirement home before my mom got sick.”

I know. But I can’t admit to knowing that because then I’d have to admit to Dyson digging into her grandparents and I’m not sure how Violet would feel about that, jokes of invisible flying robotic eyes aside.

“Oh, crap! I forgot something. I’ll be back in a sec.”

I get settled in for the long drive while Violet runs into the house, only to return empty-handed thirty seconds later.

“What’d you forget?”

She digs into her coat pockets to pull out a portable speaker and earbuds. “Hopefully, the walls are thicker at this hotel than the one in Aspen.”

“Oh my God.” My face burns as I put the SUV in Reverse and back up. “Don’t worry, Henry made sure the bedrooms are far apart.” He was visibly horrified to discover that his daughter heard us having sex, and Henry has never been bothered about having an audience.

Violet shucks her coat and adjusts the radio station. “Did I ever tell you that Becca Taylor and her friends cornered me with, like, a thousand questions after the play?”

“About what?”

“They asked who Henry is and if you’re his wife, that sort of thing.”

“What’d you tell them?” I ask warily. They must not recognize us.

“Don’t worry, I stuck with the story. He’s ‘a cousin’.” She air quotes. “But do you know what they started calling him?” She snorts. “The DILF.”





“That’s my great-grandmother’s restaurant.” I point at the Pearl, where a couple sits at a window table, giving their order to Ryleigh, the new teenage server Aunt May hired before Christmas. She wears too much eyeliner for Mama’s liking. Garland still hangs around the door, a residual of the holidays.

“It’s cute.” Violet’s curious gaze absorbs the many storefronts as we drive down Greenbank’s bustling main street.

“My aunt runs it now. She offered to host the shower there, but it’s way too small.” It sounds like every female in the congregation plans on attending today, so Celeste booked the church hall. “May is the best cook. Seriously, her lasagna is to die for. Even Henry made a comment about it.”

“Can we come back and eat there?”

“Yeah, definitely.” My fists tighten around the steering wheel. “Listen, there are a few things you need to be prepared for. Mostly about my mother.” We pass by the feed mill. Lloyd Hornback is out front, loading a bag of pellets into someone’s truck. I wave at him, and he stalls before waving back. He didn’t recognize me in this high-priced SUV.

“What about your mother?” Violet watches me expectantly.

“Right.” Where do I begin? “For one, she has very strong opinions on things.”

“What things?”

“All things.” Even that which she doesn’t understand, having lived a sheltered small town farm life. “And she’s very devoted to her church and living a good Christian life.”

Violet nods slowly. “I’ve been to church once. Somebody in our family was getting baptized or something. I don’t know. It was a really long time ago.”

Audrey and Violet would be labeled heathens by Mama’s standards, but I keep that part to myself. “Mama goes every Sunday, without fail. And she reads verses from the Bible every night. Her best friends are Reverend Enderbey and his wife, Celeste. She is against drinking, cussing, and premarital sex. She thinks having too much money is a sin and wealth should be shared. She makes all her choices based on being in God’s good graces.”