My mother-in-law stands at the sink and washes a dish before placing it in the dishwasher. Ginger is asleep in bed, and it’s just the two of us awake. I watch her, wondering what was going through her mind when she tried to get me to abandon my family. I understand her concern of safety for Ginger and Evalyn, but to really expect me to leave? I don’t get it.

“Ginger doesn’t talk about her father,” I state, leaning back in the chair at the breakfast table.

Roberta’s back stiffens, and her shoulders hike up to her ears at my mention of Ginger’s father. I’ve never asked Ginger because it didn’t matter to me.

My mother is dead and my father is a piece of shit who abandoned me when I needed him. Then I killed the fucking bastard. However, with the way Roberta behaved the other day, I’m curious as to what happened to her husband.

“He doesn’t matter,” she snaps.

I cluck my tongue, letting out a low whistle. It matters. Everything about her body language proves that it very much matters. I don’t say anything though. I have a feeling that she’ll tell me whatever I need to know because there is definitely a story there.

“Our parents always matter,” I inform her.

Roberta turns the water off at the sink, before she turns toward me, leaning her ass against the kitchen counter. My eyes stay glued to hers, and I wait. She inhales a deep breath and then lets it out slowly before she speaks.

“He left me when Ginger was five. He walked out the front door and I never saw him again. A year later I was served with divorce papers and the day after they were final he was remarried to a woman half my age,” she spits.

“So, if I left Ginger now, then I would what? Be saving her from a sure heartache?” I ask, arching a brow.

She sighs, shaking her head once. “I really am genuinely concerned for her safety. I didn’t lie about that, it’s scary.”

I almost snort. Roberta has no fucking clue just how scary my life is, or what Ginger has been through. I don’t enlighten her though, it would just add more fuel to her fire. Ginger has already made it very clear that she won’t be leaving, and I would never leave her.

“I love Ginger, Roberta. I’ll protect her as much as I possibly can from any harm, but I can’t put her or Evalyn in a bubble, no matter how badly I want to.”

She nods, then lets her head drop, looking at her feet before her gaze comes back to me. “I would like you to at least consider moving back to Georgia. I would feel better if they weren’t so far from me, if I could be around to help,” she announces.

“The Cash Bar is here, Mom,” Ginger announces from the kitchen’s entryway. “My home is here, and I don’t plan on leaving.”

Roberta’s body jerks and she looks back at Ginger, then to me, then back at Ginger again. “I just want to help take care of you and Evalyn. I just want to be there to support you,” she murmurs.

Once again, I don’t doubt my mother-in-law’s good intentions, but they aren’t for us. I’m thankful that Ginger sees it, and feels it as well.

This is my club, and this is our life.

I could ask for a transfer. I wouldn’t be a president, and I would have to prove myself to a new club. I would probably be miserable, but I would do it for my peaches if she asked me to. However, I’m glad that she won’t. I agree with her statement, this is our home.

“I know you do, Mom, but we won’t leave here. We’re happy,” Ginger announces.

I watch as she slowly makes her way toward me. She’s moving better than she was just a few days ago, but she’s still moving slowly, her stitches obviously bothering her with each step she makes. Once she’s in front of me, I help guide her to my lap as she sits down on my thigh.

“Okay, you’ve made yourself clear, more than once. I had just hoped—”

Ginger snorts. “You’d hoped that Evalyn and I would run back to Georgia. That we would beg you for help, and you would be the one to save us. I know you love that shit, Mom. You live for it. I haven’t needed you for a long fucking time, and you probably hate that.”

The hand wrapped around Ginger’s thigh flexes and I frown. Not liking the way this conversation is going. I don’t want anybody to fight, not about this. “You’re right,” Roberta says.

I can’t stop myself from jerking back slightly. Ginger grunts at my sudden movement and I give her thigh a squeeze as an apology for possibly hurting her.

“I had hoped that you would see how dangerous your life here with Prescott was and that you would bring Evalyn to Georgia, and think of her safety rather than thinking about yourself,” she snaps.

Ginger growls, but I’ve had enough. Roberta is hot and cold, accepting our refusal to leave in one breath, and then attempting to manipulate Ginger in the next. I’ve officially had enough. Keeping my tone even, and trying to keep my voice calm, I speak.

“If you cannot accept our lives, and the way we choose to live them, then you’re no longer welcome in our home. Ginger is my wife, we share a last name, we share a child, and my name is permanently marked on her neck. We aren’t leaving Canada, we’re happy here.”

“Well I never…” she gasps. “I’m Ginger’s mother, and Evalyn’s grandmother,” she pointlessly announces.

I grunt. “Bitch, you came to visit Ginger once, once in the three years she’s lived here. She’s spent her Christmases at the bar, or with me, along with birthdays, and any other fucking holiday that’s come around. You’re just here to be a controlling conniving cunt. I won’t have it. I’ve tried to be cool with it, but my patience is now nil.”

Roberta’s eyes narrow and she turns her gaze to Ginger. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?” she snaps.

“Mom. I love you, but Prescott isn’t wrong. You hardly call, you don’t ever visit, and you obviously came here to start shit. We’ve had enough shit lately, yours is honestly just an annoyance, but my patience level is about the same as Prescott’s these days. All I want to do is go to the hospital and see my baby. You’re keeping me from doing that and it’s pissing me off,” Ginger snaps.

Roberta’s eyes narrow even more, turning into extremely small slits. “Fine, I’ll leave. I know when I’m not wanted. Don’t come crying to me when shit hits the fan,” she states and stomps off.

“All of this, it seems really extreme,” I say a few minutes later.

Ginger sighs, turning slightly to face me. “It’s the way she is. That’s why I really didn’t want her coming here. I knew that she would be overly dramatic. I just didn’t think it would be quite like this. She’s extreme, Pres. Her moods have always been this way, and she makes snap decisions. It’s why I was so glad to have the opportunities Uncle Cash gave me, even in death.”

“Fuck,” I groan.

Ginger leans forward, pressing her lips to mine gently. “Give her time to cool off. Let’s go see our girl,” she whispers.

Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers in her hair, twisting them and tangling them between her strands and I kiss her back. I let my tongue caress the seam of her lips until she opens her mouth for me.

Slipping inside of her warmth, I taste her. I’ve missed this, and I know we can’t go much further, but I at least need this small taste from her.

My mother. She pisses me off, consistently. She always has. I think that we butt heads the most because unlike my other siblings, I don’t do exactly what she wants when she wants it. This is just another example. I’m happy here in Canada, and although the weather isn’t exactly my favorite aspect of the area, this is home.

I haven’t been back to Georgia since I left, and I have no desire to go. In a lot of ways, I am my Uncle Cash, content to leave everything behind me and live this life here. Except, unlike him, I don’t want to live it alone. I need Prescott at my side to survive.

Prescott and I make our way toward the hospital and I can’t stop thinking about my mother, about her sudden mood swings. She seemed okay after I talked to her a few days ago. Then today, she just became unreasonable. I don’t know if there’s more going on, but my gut is screaming that that’s the case.

All thoughts of my mother and her issues leave me as I approach Evalyn’s little plastic bed. She looks stronger just since last night, or maybe that’s my wishful thinking.

Prescott is quiet as I sit down and reach for her, holding her against me as I adjust and attempt to breastfeed, again. It hasn’t really been working, and I’m about to give up on the whole concept.

I’ve tried everything and even researched, but my body just isn’t cooperating. I’m pretty sure it’s stress related, at least that’s what I’ve read.

A nurse approaches us, and I look up to watch her. She doesn’t say anything at first and I’m a little uncomfortable until she speaks. “The doctor wanted to speak with you, I let him know you were here,” she says with a smile.

“Pres?” I whisper after she’s left. He grunts, and I glance up to see that he’s watching her walk away. “She was a little odd,” I whisper.

Prescott nods, his gaze still focused on the direction the nurse walked away. She’s gone, but he’s still staring. “I’m getting a weird feeling. Between my mom, and this nurse, I don’t know…”

“Same here, peaches,” he mutters.

He leans down, pressing his lips to Evalyn’s head before he mutters that he’ll be right back. He leaves us, and I can’t shake that bad feeling as I attempt to feed Evalyn and wait for the doctor to arrive.

I want to take Evalyn home with me. Leaving her here kills me every time, but with this mysterious nurse, now I’m just plain scared.

“Mrs. Gordon?” the pediatrician asks. I let out a sigh of relief, I recognize him, and I trust him. “Evalyn is doing spectacularly. She’s eating, and she’s gained a little weight. Her bilirubin levels have improved tremendously. I see no reason why she won’t be headed home with you by the end of the week,” he announces.

My heart races at his words, excitement fills my body as tears fill my eyes. My head starts to spin with all of the things I need to do to get ready for her arrival. I haven’t gone into her room, and I know everything is still laid out in piles.

I need to wash all of her clothes and organize her new space. A new level of excitement flows through me and I can’t wait to get started on my projects. The doctor congratulates me before he leaves me to my daydreaming.

A few minutes later, I feel a warm grasp on my shoulder, and I look up to see Prescott there. Excitedly, I tell him the good news and his eyes widen as does his smile.

“Holy shit, she’ll be home with us soon,” he whispers. I give him a nod, unable to speak, as too much emotion is flowing through me right now.

“I’m having Free research that nurse,” he states a few minutes later. Looking up at him in surprise, my brows tug together. “She seemed a little too odd,” he shrugs.

We stay at the hospital, engrossed in our little girl, watching her and just enjoying taking turns holding her. Then Prescott’s phone rings. I place Evalyn down in her little plastic crib as he walks away, wiping my eyes as tears fill them.

I don’t want to leave her, even though I know that we’ll be back later this evening, even being away from her for a few hours is too much.

Looking around, I don’t see the nurse from earlier, but I see another one and I give her a small wave. She does the same and tells me to have a good afternoon. Smiling, I make my way out of the room and then walk toward Prescott’s side.

“Okay, yeah, she was weird,” he chuckles.

“Pres?” I ask once he ends the call.

He shrugs. “Just some weird bitch. Her background, or what Free could find came out fine,” he shrugs.

“I think we’re kind of paranoid too,” I offer.

“No shit,” he snorts.

Together we leave the hospital and head back home. I don’t know what we’re going to find when we get there, but whatever it is, I know that I’ll be okay. I’m not a kid anymore, and I’ve made a life for myself here that, no matter how dangerous, I absolutely love.

I’m not leaving Prescott, and I’m not going to ask him to leave his club. This is where we’re meant to be, and our family here means more than anything to me. They’ve been more of a family than my blood relatives, and that is all that matters.