Page 39 of On One Condition

“What do people say about her?”

She shrugs as if she doesn’t know, but I do. Christ. Even after all these years it still seems Asher Wells is still being judged for her mother’s promiscuity and reputation.

“We had a field trip to her pop’s farm last year to learn about growing and stuff. Peter Doocey didn’t listen and got in trouble for trying to pants Dylan Abernathy. There was a big to-do over it. Pop was nice. He even gave us ice cream and didn’t care if it dripped when we ate it.”

“Ice cream is always good.”

“He’s dead, you know. Died around C.J.’s birthday. That made me sad so I can’t imagine how it made Asher feel. Probably way more sadder than me. Momma sent flowers to her but was angry over what she paid for on the Internet versus what was actually sent. It was a whole thing that I don’t care to get into.” She rolls her eyes and gives a shake of her head. “I wonder if we have another field trip there if Asher would be the one to give us the tour?”

“Maybe.”

“Mom said hi to her in town the other day, but don’t worry, they’re not close enough for her to call her on the phone and talk about how fine your butt is. She only does that to Lacey.”

“Good to know.” I give a quick shake of my head. “Thanks.”

“Connor’s.”

“What about it?”

“Are you going? She’ll probably be there tomorrow night. It’s the place to be on music night.”

“Thanks for the info.”

“Yep. No problemo.” She flashes a mischievous grin and a wave before skipping away.

Really, Ledger?

You just asked a kid you barely know about a woman you want to know more.

You do seriously need help.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Asher

I no longer study the face of every man in Cedar Falls.

It took me a long time to get to that point, where I stopped comparing my nose with theirs, the shape or color of my eyes, or the curve of my mouth.

And I’ve learned to live with the silence and cold shoulders from the older women in town. The ones who wonder if I’m the bastard child their husband had when he cheated on them or had a torrid affair with the town floozy before they were married. The ones who fear my mom will someday come back, fill in the “father” portion of my birth certificate, and ruin their happily ever after.

Then there’s the notion of siblings. Do I have a half-sister or half-brother? Do I have more than one? Am I friends with them? Do I dislike them?

I learned to stop obsessing over it a long time ago.

And yes, the odd stares and quiet murmurs have dissipated over the years, only to be stirred up when someone new moves into town and the Cedar Falls Stepford Wives step in to fill them in on everyone’s business. But it doesn’t make living life in this small town any easier. Reputations stick to last names even if you were simply born into it without a choice.

The upside to it all? It’s freeing in a sense. People already have their opinions about me, so why not live my life and enjoy myself while I’m at it?

If I flirt openly with a man, then looks are exchanged suggesting I’m just like my mom. If I hide from the world and keep to The Fields, then it appears I’m ashamed of who I am.

I’m neither.

I’m simply me. The me that Gran and Pop loved and cherished and tried to be parents, grandparents, and friends to so I wouldn’t do without.

And fuck the assholes of this town for judging and ostracizing me for something I had no control over. It’s been thirty-two years, people, so get over it.

Just like Judy Jensen needs to right now from her seat on the other side of the bar in Connor’s Tavern. It’s not my fault her boyfriend pursued me last year. I told him no, time and time again. But the trouble he caused gave me the stigma that I’m a homewrecker against all rational logic.