Page 22 of Truck Up

“How Linden?” I push. “For once, give me—”

“I’ve got money.” Tanner pipes in, cutting me off. “The gas station is doing really well. I can help.”

“The flower shop is making a profit now too,” Mom says. “I’m sure Lia would be happy to pitch in if you need it.”

“Mom!” My jaw drops and I feel my eyes widen into saucers. “I can’t afford to pay the lumberyard’s payroll. I’ve only just started turning a profit. We’re not out of the woods yet, either.”

“Maybe if you stop investing it into that online thing you’re so focused on.” Mom glares at me, and my stomach turns over. I feel like I’m going to be sick, and not just because I’m pregnant. This conversation is nauseating. “It’s a waste of time. It’s not going to last.”

“That online shop is the only reason we’re making a profit, Mom. If I shut that down, we’ll be out of business in less than a month.”

“Nonsense.” Mom lifts her glass of water and takes a sip, dismissing me. “I ran that business just fine for years without an online shop.”

“Maybe for a while, but you hadn’t turned a profit in over three years,” I say. “But it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? It’s mine, and I make the business decisions.”

I immediately regret the words, and I wish I could take the entire statement back. But it’s too late. Mom’s expression hasshifted from frustration to hurt. Dad and my brothers have stopped eating and they’re staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.

I may not take all the advice my parents give me, but I never disrespect them. Not like this.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother.” Dad growls and points his fork at me. “We can take it all back just as easily as we gave it to you. Don’t forget that.”

“Actually, no you can’t,” Jason says.

When I look at my brother, I struggle to hide the smile tugging at my lips. He’s leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest like he doesn’t have a care in the world. To be honest, that’s Jason’s typical demeanor. But to stand up to our parents? That’s new.

Jason is usually the quiet one. He doesn’t make a fuss, goes along with the flow, and mostly ignores the feud with the Mutters. He’s the easy-going one of the family. No mess. No fuss. That’s Jason.

But to hear him refute Dad? That’s surprising and pleasing. It’s about time someone besides me says and does the right thing in this family.

“What was that?” Dad asks.

Jason shrugs and stares at Dad like he doesn’t care if he pisses him off. It’s almost as if he’s trying to start a fight, which is so unlike him. “You can’t take the businesses away from Lia and me. We are now the owners. You and Mom have no legal connection with them. Which means you can’t take them away just because you don’t like how we’re running them.”

“Well!” Mom gasps and presses her hand to her chest. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you two, but this is unacceptable.”

“All that matters is that the businesses are doing well,” Linden says. He glares at me like I’m to blame for everything that’s wrong with our family. I glare right back. I’m the one that’sheld our parents together while my brothers run off and do God only knows what while starting more shit with the Mutters.

I may not be rich and solve things with money, but I’ve stayed here and made sure Mom and Dad didn’t fall apart when everything went to shit. My brothers will toss money at the problem, but they’re too busy to help manage Mom and Dad. That’s my job.

“A few more months, and I’m sure the lumberyard will be doing better than the flower shop,” Linden continues. “But my offer still stands. For both of you. You need money. You talk to me.”

There’s something about the look in Linden’s eyes that sends a chill down my spine. While he’s never been there to offer emotional support, he has always found money when we need it most.

I open my mouth to ask him how, but Tanner jumps in. “Maybe if you take our help you won’t have to sell flowers to the Mutters.”

I turn my glare on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You sold all those flowers to that asshole for Grams’s birthday.” He clarifies. “You should’ve refused him.”

I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my glare at him. “You mean Christian?”

“Yeah, that asshole,” Tanner says as he points his fork at me. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

My nausea has been controllable all evening, but at the mention of Christian’s name, I feel like I’m going to barf on the table. I can’t tell if it’s the baby or anxiety making me feel sick.

Maybe it’s the unknown of what my family will do when they find out I’m pregnant with his baby, making me sick.

But I push it back and hold my ground. “If you think me selling him flowers is bad, then I guess you’re going to hate that I plan to attend Grams’s party.”