Make Me

by Amanda Heath

  “Huh? You don’t like Papaw?” I question. I think my eyes are going to cross. I really can’t stand it when people aren’t straightforward. It’s like rip the freaking Band-Aid off already.

  She says, “Papaw?” in a barely there whisper. She shakes her head before looking me in the eyes. “I’m going to tell you a story. Please don’t ask any questions until I’m done.” She takes a deep breath before she launches into a story so twisted and confusing, I think I might blow my brains out. “When I was a girl, about your age, I fell in love with your grandfather. And he fell in love with me. But just like with any couple we had our problems. Like there was another woman in love with him. Her name is Margret. She disappeared after we married, but I knew she would come back.

  “And she did, about twenty years ago. I didn’t know it was the same woman until much later. She had of course married, and her last name was different. I had never met her face to face when I fell for Henry. Now that she was back, I had no reason to think she was the same woman. We started to become friends, though she never came around when Henry was at home. She also started to bring her son, Charles. I’m sorry to say that he and your mother fell in love. Virginia was always a wild card. She was spoiled and selfish. Though she became a better person for Charles. I honestly believed that she loved him. It wasn’t until after the two married that I realized this woman was in fact the same Margret.

  “I didn’t know what to do. The kids seemed happy so I wasn’t too worried. Then Virginia became pregnant with you. My other two children were also pregnant, so I couldn’t solely focus on your mother. I didn’t know what was going on until it was too late. It appears that Margret wanted Charles to marry your mother to ruin her. This was to get back at your Grandfather and I. Though he was never supposed to get Virginia with child. But he was thankful for you. It used to annoy your mother because he paid more attention to you than her, and you weren’t even born yet. Margret swears up and down that your mother drove him to drink. I don’t know if that is true, but he was intoxicated the night he died. It was a horrible car accident. There was nothing they could do. You were born several days later.” She sighs and gets up off the couch. “You were born three weeks early. Virginia actually went into labor while hearing the reading of Charles’s will. He left everything to you. She was to get nothing and that is why she took off. She was beyond mad about not getting any money. I had already cut her off by this point. She had been caught doing cocaine while she was pregnant with you.” A tear starts slipping down her face and I have a reaction. For as long as I can remember I have had sympathy emotions. Someone starts crying, I start to have the urge. It’s the same with throwing up, or someone getting mad.

  “She took off in the middle of the night and we never heard from her again. Though Margret and I have been searching for you since you both disappeared. I was closer, and this is the part I lied about. I knew where you were,” I start to glare at her but she rushes out, “But I had only known a week. I think that’s why your mother overdosed. She knew it would hurt me to never speak to her again. I have no proof, but I knew my daughter. She was vindictive and manipulative.”

  “Okay so you’re saying you were there for a week and never confronted us?” I ask even though I know she’s not done. I just can’t stand to keep quiet anymore.

  “I had to make sure you were the right Paisley. Knowing Virginia the way that I do, she would have been rid of you and placed someone in your place. I had my PI break into the trailer to get your toothbrush. The results came back the day before she died. You are the right Paisley.” She stops pacing for a second to look over at me. “I was literally on my way to confront Virginia when I got the call she had died. Then I could only think about getting you here, to get you out of the path of Margret.”

  My mom always told me my dad was an asshole. I just thought he was some drug addict who never gave a shit. Just like she didn’t give a shit. At least she was around. She wasn’t what a mother was supposed to be, but I’m alive because of her. I might not have felt the grief a normal daughter would have felt, but she was truly someone I lived with for seventeen years. I didn’t know her. She didn’t talk to me, unless she wanted to rant about my asshole father and her stuck-up snobbish family. But all of that was lies.

  “But she’s my grandmother, too?” I meant it as a statement but it comes out as a question.

  She blinks a few times before she chuckles. “Yes she is. With what she put everyone through, I didn’t want her to have custody of you. BeeBee would have come to me, and I didn’t want to separate you.”

  I start replaying the conversation the boys had last night, something clicking in my head. “So I’m truly an heiress?” I blurt out. That right there is hard to wrap my head around. Someone left me money? My father left me money?

  She’s blindsided for all of a second before she sits right down next to me. She takes my hands in hers. “Yes. Margret’s husband was insanely rich. The money was split between Margret and her two boys. You get his share.” When she whispers a number in my ear, I want to faint.

  “Seriously?” I stumble out. That cannot be right. I could never spend that much money in my entire life, even if I blow it on stupid crap.

  “Yes, seriously,” she huffs out. “Not to mention your trust fund from us.”

  “Why do I feel like Cinderella? Shouldn’t there be a prince or something? Mean step-sisters?” My mind is officially blown.

  “Well there is a prince,” she tells me softly, and my eyes jump to hers. “He’s not actually a prince, and I don’t think he’s all that charming. You met him last night, Channing Southerland.”

  “So that’s what Kellan meant about me being his bride,” I blurt out, really freaked. I didn’t think they could arrange marriages anymore.

  Then my grandma does something that doesn’t fit her personality, she rolls her eyes. “You do not have to marry him, Paisley. Believe it or not, Channing is against the whole thing.”

  “Okay, please explain this to me in simple terms.”

  She bursts out a laugh before shaking her head at me, “Channing is Margret’s godson. Though his own grandparents are passed away, he treats Margret as if she is his grandmother. She’s been saying forever she would have you two married.” A look of nostalgia crosses her face, and I wait for more. “Though I think we did better with Channing than we ever did with your parents. I’m very fond of him, he even calls me Aunt.” She brushes my hair out of my face and looks into my eyes. “Channing isn’t going to play Margret’s game. She’ll try to get you to play it as well. Though you are too much like me, you’ll fight back.”

  “Why would she want us to get married?” I ask, feeling as if my eyebrows are going to shoot off my head.

  She purses her lips, and I know she doesn’t want to tell me. Then she decides better, “She wants you two to be married because she feels as if she destroyed our children. She did in fact destroy them, but Charles didn’t have to play the game. And Virginia didn’t have to be so greedy. The Southerland’s are a very powerful name. Though us Vaughn’s have just as much power, and money.” She winks at me before getting up off the couch.

  “If he’s a Southerland, then isn’t he related to me?” I gasp out. That would be just sick!

  “No, dear. Channing was adopted by his stepfather. His step-father is your uncle.” She reaches the door, and turns back to look at me, “Well, come on, dear. You have a lot of shopping to get done today.”

  Chapter 5

  THE THING ABOUT me is, I don’t process things like I should. When my mom got pregnant it literally didn’t register that there was going to be a baby around until BeeBee was born. Which was a really bad thing considering I was the only one capable of taking care of her. So if you’re wondering why I haven’t freaked about all this stuff yet, don’t worry. It’s coming. Most likely tonight when I’m trying to go to sleep.

  Other than what Grandma told me this morning, I’ve had a really good day. Apparently I have to attend th
is rich kid’s school with a bunch of other rich kids. YAY! I can’t express my utter joy about this.

  Not.

  Anyway, you have to wear a uniform to this new school so I spent a good hour going through a catalog ordering clothes for school. Then Grandma took me to these boutiques, where I got to spend a lot of money for “regular” clothes. I’m saying I get my own expensive jeans and shirts. Plus several dresses, skirts, shorts, shoes, and jewelry. If Carly could only see me now.

  It truly amazes me what money can do. I wouldn’t say it bought me happiness, considering I’m not all that happy. But then again I haven’t honestly been happy at all in my life. Oh wait, I was overjoyed and happy the day BeeBee was born. Also on the days she slept through the night the first time, learned to walk, learned to feed herself, got potty trained, and my favorite, learned to talk. All those things made me very happy and proud. But not enough to last a lifetime.

  Then something did happen to make me VERY happy. Papaw took me to this car dealership. They had a brand spanking new 2014 black Camaro waiting for me to test drive. Luckily Carly let me use her car to get my license. I don’t drive much, but I had always planned to get a car.

  The best part about it was I paid for it. ME! I might not have earned the money handed to me, but it is legally mine. As I found out this morning when Grandma took me to the bank. I didn’t even know banks were open on Saturdays. The president was there to meet me. That was strange in of itself, but he did give me a credit card with no limit. The first thing I bought was a Dr. Pepper. Grandma looked at me like I was crazy, but I had to see if the card actually worked. Plus it was the best damn Dr. Pepper I’ve ever had.

  My guesthouse has its own personal driveway, so I felt totally awesome pulling up in my new car. I think I shall car her Dancer. She’s freaking gorgeous and moves just a swiftly as a dancer. Yeah, I think that name fits her perfectly.

  I had every intention of going into the house to see BeeBee, but I’m surprised to find I have a visitor. One I’m not all that happy to see.

  Channing Southerland is standing in my living room looking like he just got home from a modeling shoot. Black hair styled messily and his perfect face set in stone. No emotion whatsoever appears on his face. That I don’t like. I would appreciate knowing what is on his mind.

  He seems to be studying me, so I return the favor. His shirt is tight and clings to every single muscle on his upper body. His not built like a linebacker or anything but you can tell he works out. His low-rise jeans hang off his hips in a way that make you think of taking them off. Wait, what? Hell no, Paisley, do not even go there.

  After, and I kid you not, five minutes without either of us speaking, I finally break the silence, “Can I help you?” I huff out, sounding impatient.

  This only makes him smirk, “Yes, you can help me,” he states easily in his smoky voice. And I refer to smoke because his voice literally moves over your body like smoke. But not cigarette smoke, that’s nasty. More like really clean smoke.

  When I realize he isn’t going to elaborate, I cross my arms under my breasts and start tapping my foot. He loses the smirk then. He eyes become trapped at my chest and I feel a blush cover my cheeks. This just got awkward. I have nice boobs but they aren’t that nice.

  So in true Paisley fashion, I snap my fingers and say, “Eyes up here, asshole,” pointing my index finger at my eyes.

  Anger moves through his eyes, which really freaks me out. I’ve never seen anyone who shows their emotions in just their eyes. His face didn’t even move. I’m angry right now, so I know my eyes are squinted and my lips are in a sneer.

  He stalks over to me, his face still expressionless, “Listen up, and listen good. I’m only going to say this once. I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but you need to leave.” And he ends that terrifying speech.

  I blink once, then twice and I go with instinct. He’s standing a few inches from me, so I shove him. My personal bubble is my personal bubble, and if I don’t want you in there, you’re getting out. Now I stalk towards him, though no fear enters his eyes, “Look buddy, I may not want all this money, but don’t you ever come in here and tell me what to do. If it were taken from me right now, I wouldn’t care. The only thing I care about is in that house. My little sister is the only family I know and these people have custody of her. I want to be in her life, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  “Your sister?” he whispers looking at me confused.

  I roll my eyes. Didn’t think of that did you, idiot? “Yes my little sister. She’s two. My mom was a moron and I raised her. Now the witch is dead, so I had to come here or lose my sister. Is that plain enough English for you?”

  My breathing is labored and I can tell my skin is flushed, but I don’t really care. I want him out of my house. He just hit the only button I have. I take two steps back and level him with a glare. “Now, since you don’t seem to have any manners, I’ll show you how it’s done.” I walk over to the door and open it. I make a big show about pointing out of it, “Thank you Mr. Southerland for this amazing visit. Now I need to retire for the night. Good evening.”

  Channing doesn’t say anything but proceeds to walk out my front door. His eyes never leave mine, and I’m starting to realize its stupid to make eye contact with him. He’s so freaking tall, I have to strain my neck to look at him. But I don’t let his eyes go until I’ve slammed the door in his face. Then I slump against said door and close my eyes. I need my bed.

  I lock the front door before I rush around turning the lights off. I do realize its only seven o’clock on a Saturday night, but if you haven’t noticed, I’m not a normal teenager. I quickly make my way to my bedroom and throw myself on the bed. And then I cry.

  I told you it would be tonight when all the crap that has happened to me over the past two days hits me. What Channing said wasn’t all that bad, but I was already starting to feel the tension in my body. I needed to release it. I needed it gone. Maybe I should have asked him what the hell he even meant by all that. But when his statement started to sound like a threat in my head, he had to go. No one will take me away from my sister. The only reason I’m not fighting to take care of her myself is because I’m not her mother. I might feel like her mother, but I need to overcome that. I don’t want to have to be her mother. I’m not saying she was a burden, but BeeBee and my mom together was an overwhelming burden. So I stopped taking care of my mom and started taking care of BeeBee.

  Maybe that makes me a bad daughter, but what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t care for a grown woman and a baby and go to school. It was impossible, so I became a single mom to my little sister. Now I don’t even have that burden.

  And for the first time in my life, I can fucking breathe.

  You don’t know what that means to me. I don’t have to worry about bills being paid, or if Mom is going to spend the bill money on drugs. Though Grandma and Papaw did a horrible job with my mother, I won’t let them do the same to BeeBee. I’ll still be here to guide her in life.

  I’m good into my sobs, when I hear a scratching on the door. What in the world? I quickly get up and race to the door. When I finally have it open I let out a scream. In front of me sits a huge German Shepard. It regards me with its black eyes and I cringe. It lets out a bark and I take a step back. It does it again and again until I’m back in the house. Then it comes in the door and nudges it closed. What the hell? Then it calmly walks past me into my bedroom.

  I shake my head thinking that was my imagination. That big, scary dog did not just walk in here. I rub the rest of my tears out of my eyes and race back to my room. Nope, there it is, lying on my bed. I slowly walk over to it, “What are you doing here?” I say to it. Great. Now I’m talking to dogs.

  It just stares at me. When I get within touching distance it reaches its muzzle out to me and licks my hand. “Oh, so you’re friendly?” I timidly reach my hand out to pet it. It lays its head down, so I reach out and pull on the collar. Not to move it
but to see whom it belongs too.

  Maggie

  If found return to Mr. & Mrs. Vaughn

  Or call 9032458933

  “Well apparently you’re not lost then, Maggie,” I tell her. I can’t believe they have this huge dog on the property and didn’t tell me about it. I’m not scared of dogs, but the big ones make me uneasy. Though this one seems gentle enough. She hasn’t tried to eat me. “I guess you can stay with me. To tell you the truth, I was really scared last night. I even woke up in the middle of the night and forgot where I was.”

  Maggie lets out a bark, and I laugh. “Yeah I’m a weenie,” I say to her, scratching behind her ear.

  After awhile, I lay down for bed. I changed into some PJs. I didn’t even think of making Maggie leave. For some strange reason she makes me feel safe, and not so lonely. She even moves from the foot of the bed to behind me, keeping me warm.

  I haven’t been asleep long when someone knocks on the door, and Maggie barks, waking me up. I open my eyes to see her standing at my bedroom door. I rub the sleep from my tired eyes and head to the front door. Grandma is standing there with a flashlight. She looks relieved to see me.

  “I’m sorry to have woken you, dear. I was just looking for Maggie.” She smiles fondly down at the dog. I put my hand on Maggie’s head, not wanting her to leave. Grandma notices this. “Don’t worry, I won’t take her from you. Besides, if Maggie wants to be here, then I can’t make her leave.” She winks at me.

  “You could have told me there was a huge dog running around,” I tell her grumpily.

  She only laughs. “Maggie isn’t going to harm anyone unless they mean someone else harm. She is very well trained.” She reaches in to pet the dog. “She’s a very good mother, and it seems she has taken you as one of her pups.”

  “Huh?” I say stupidly.

  “No worries, Paisley. She just feels protective of you. I just wonder how she got out of her pen.” She taps her chin and looks across the backyard. I look that way, too, but don’t see anything except grass and trees where the property turns to forest. “I’ll let you get back to sleep, dear.” She hugs me lightly before heading towards the house.