Chapter one
December
The holidays sucked. My choices were limited. Spend it with my family, which was less than ideal, or spend it alone, which was worse. Obviously, I could crash Tucker’s family gathering. He’d been my best friend forever, but his family was probably worse than mine. If that were possible.
Looked like I was heading off to the country to spend Christmas morning with the family. They lived out in Plant City, and while it wasn’t exactly a farm, it was a large piece of land complete with chicken coop and all. Mom normally kept a small vegetable garden, and she had her roses around the courtyard on the side of the house. I grew up there, feeding chickens and helping with the garden. I hadn’t realized people lived any differently until I met Tucker.
His family also lived in Plant City, but he lived on the other side of town, in a more suburban area, mostly cinder block houses and small fenced yards. We met in high school because all the elementary and middle schools funneled into the only high school in the area. There was suddenly plenty of new and different things for us to explore, and I did most of it together with Tucker after becoming fast friends.
But that was years ago. We both lived in Tampa now, in the Ybor area, which was about a forty-minute drive to Mom’s place. Sometimes I wished it were longer, so I didn’t feel nearly as obligated to visit.
Pulling up the dirt driveway, all sorts of memories flooded me. This year seemed worse than normal, but I didn’t want to focus on why. Hell, I didn’t want to focus on any of the memories. Some were great, like sneaking into the old blue barn and kissing my first boyfriend. But that didn’t turn out well a few weeks later. I always thought of my old dog Buck, as well. But he’d died a long time ago. Looking around now, the grass was dried, brown, and dead, though that was normal for December, even in Florida. Mom’s house needed a coat of paint, but it wasn’t terrible, just old and flaking in spots. I made a note to come out in March and take care of it and probably clean the gutters too. Since my useless brother didn’t seem up to it.
With a long sigh, I got out of my GR86. The car was flashy, sporty, but affordable. And it had the solar-shift paint job, whichwas Toyota’s fancy word for rust-orange. I bought it used, so it was affordable, and I kept my baby in great shape.
Honestly, I wanted to stay outside with my car, but that wasn’t going to fly. I went up the front steps and opened the door. No turning back now. “Hello. Mom?”
“Joey? Merry Christmas! You made good time. Come on in here.” She hugged me lovingly while scowling at me at the same time. “Purple? That’s new.”
I fingered my dyed bangs. It wasn’t new to me anymore, but it’d been a while since I was home. I liked the purple for the most part and thought I’d keep it. “Yeah. And there was no traffic. Where is everyone?” Subject change. She didn’t approve of anything I was or did.
“Mmpf. Your brother will be here any time now. And Sissy’s coming with her brood in about an hour.” Sissy was my mother’s sister. Her name was Cecilia, but we all called her Sissy, or Aunt Sissy. And her brood meant her grown kids and theirs. Willow was a few years older than me, and almost as grouchy as Mom. You’d think it was something about the women in the family, but no. Her son, Troy, was pretty cranky, too. Great.
I had nothing in common with them. Honestly, they weren’t bad people; simply products of their upbringing. I could have been exactly like them, but my genetics had apparently gotten an upgrade they missed.
“Need help in the kitchen?” I’d been cooking side by side with my mom since I could get up on a step stool to see the counter.
“Please. I still have potatoes to peel.” She rubbed her hands together. “Not as easy for me as it once was.” We always tried to do a big Christmas dinner since we didn’t exchange gifts outside of the kids.
“No problem.” I crossed into the little galley kitchen. It was a weird layout with a long row of cabinets on one side that stoppedat the door to the laundry room, which had been added on nearly thirty years ago.
This quirky old house had been built in two parts, and the first part was over seventy years old and made of solid concrete block, old Florida style, nothing but a box, but sturdy as hell. The addition came later and included the pantry, which was also a combined laundry and mudroom, as well as two extra bedrooms and a bathroom behind the original dining room. Small and simple, but something my mom could handle. Although not as much now that she was getting older. But there were Christmas lights strung along the ceiling in the living room, and a small tree stood in the corner with a few gifts under it. I’d bet Sissy had come over to help her.
Some of the linoleum peeled up around the cabinets, proving she needed more help than she was getting, and I hated feeling all the guilt of it. Tony lived closer than I did, and he was singlewithoutkids. I kept hoping he’d get a girlfriend, and she’d straighten him out, but that hadn’t happened yet. More likely was that he couldn’t keep a woman in a relationship long because he was a shithead.
I was elbow deep into peeling potatoes when Tony finally came in the front door. “Mama.” She went running to the front of the house when he called. Maybe that was actually his problem. Tony was the baby. Tony was into sports. Tony drove an old, beat-up pickup truck and dated women. While Joey? Well, Joey was supposed to be responsible, but he ran off to the big city and got himself a fancy job and a car. Did I sound bitter? Nope. Not. Nada.
The potatoes weren’t peeling themselves, so I rolled my eyes and got back to work, breathing in their earthy scent.
“Not going to say hi to your brother now? What’s up with you, Joey?” Tony came over and hugged my shoulders, making a jokeout of everything, but I didn’t take it that way, no matter how he meant it.
“Hi, Tony. How you been?”
“Fine. Fine.”
“Still working at Tractor Supply?”
He smiled brightly, showing his teeth. “Got promoted last month.”
“Well, look at you.” It wasn’t fantastic, but I’d never gotten a promotion. “I’m proud of you.” I turned to rinse the potatoes at the sink.
“Thanks, bro. How ‘bout you? Famous yet?” And there it was. Like he’d been waiting to dig into me all year.
“No, uh, I wouldn’t call it that.” No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I was not getting noticed nearly enough on social media to become the next big influencer. It was my dream. Had been for most of my adult life, though, admittedly, that was kind of short, since I was only twenty-eight. Still, I had a master’s degree in marketing and worked for a great company where I got to practice everything. Technically, I knew what to do. But getting something to go viral was more than a formula. Part of it was artistry and part was luck. Both of which I seemed to lack. So no, not famous.
Tony leaned against the counter and watched me cube the potatoes and put them in the pot. “What exactly would you call it?”
He earned my death glare. “I call it still working on it. These things take time. And I do have a full-time job, you know. Digitax Room is a great company.” They didn’t have a great career path and minimal benefits, but the pay…yeah, it wasn’t great either.
