My thumb taps the table as I chew through my food, my mind on my current situation. No school. No Austin. Blank slate, as they say. A chance to rewrite my future.
I don't know a lot about what it will look like, but I know one thing for certain.
It will not be boring.
I pauseat my open trunk, my hand on my bag, drawing in a lungful of air. The smell of the ranch, a scent I wish I could have bottled and taken with me to school, is a caress for my wounded pride. As hard as I'm trying not to think of Austin, it's impossible not to. Especially since he has texted me twice since I left the diner, wanting to know what I’m doing and why I wasn’t in class today. I send him one text informing him we are over and not to contact me. He responds wanting to know why, and I ignore it. I plan to ignore every message he ever sends me until the end of time. Now that I know the truth about him, even a single word to him feels wrong.
What a fool. He was married.He must've loved the adrenaline surge of that tightrope he balanced on. How much longer would it have continued if I hadn't found out? I guess I don't have to spend too much time thinking about that.
My head tips back, the ends of my long hair tickling my back, and the sunshine spills over my face. In the distance, a horse whinnies, and I smile. I know that sound. I've missed her, and she's missed me.
Pulling a couple of my smaller bags from my trunk, I haul them over my shoulders and leave my trunk open. I'll have to come back for my other things. I take the steps up to the wide front porch of my childhood home. The homestead is my favorite place to be, aside from my secret spot on the edge of our land, where there’s a dry waterfall. In late summer, the monsoons come through and the waterfall runs.
The homestead is large, made of wooden logs and stone in varying shades of gray. It's rustic, and intimidating to people who don't consider it home, and suddenly I'm overcome with relief. But then I remember my parents don't know I've been kicked out of school and I still don't know what to tell them about that. The truth is probably best, considering it’s two months before the school year should be finished andI'm so smart they let me take my finals and finish earlyisn't going to work.
I swallow around my nerves and push through into the house. At first it appears empty, not a sound coming from any room as I wander through. But then a loud snore fills a room I've been through already, and I smile as I double back to the living room. Gramps lies on the couch facing the floor-to-ceiling fireplace, fast asleep. He twitches, and I back away quietly and go to my room to deposit my things.
I'm on my third trip from my car to my room when my mom walks in the back door. She presses her hands to her lower back and arches, grimacing. I watch her pull off thick work gloves, sit down on the bench next to the door, and start on her boots.
I come forward, my shoes making noise on the wood floor. She looks up and startles, halfway through removing her second boot.
"What are you doing here? Are you okay?" She stands and starts for me, still wearing her socks.
"I'm fine, Mom. I promise. I just missed you guys." Not a lie. “Home for a long weekend.” Definitely a lie, and not one I really meant to tell. It just slipped out. I start to correct it, thinking maybe it’ll be better to make a clean cut, but her reaction stops me.
She pulls me in for a hug, then pushes me back and looks at me. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been missing my girl.”
The truth sticks in my throat. Instead I hug her again, inhaling the familiar smells of the ranch that nestle in her hair. My brothers consider my mom to be tough, and she is, but she was different with me. She and my dad tried so long for a girl, and after a few miscarriages, they'd given up. Then one day, surprise! She was older by then and convinced herself it wasn't in the cards for them. Between the fact that I'm the baby of the family, and they never thought they'd have me, I've been allowed to get away with a lot more than my brothers.
Something tells me illegal gambling and being asked to withdraw from school goes far beyond the shit I pulled when I was younger.
She backs away from our second hug and looks me in the eyes. “Anything else?"
I purse my lips and shake my head. I don't want to see the disappointment on her face. Not yet. I don't want to hear that it's just like me to go and do something like that.
Calamity Jessie.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" I ask.
Mom steps into the little bathroom across the hall and turns on the sink faucet. "Vendor weekend at The Orchard is this weekend. I could use an extra pair of hands making the goat cheese I'm planning to sell."
"Put me to work," I say, taking her place at the sink when she's done washing her hands. She waits for me to finish, and we walk into the kitchen. I get out a colander and the fine cheese cloth, and she pulls out a stock pot and pours in the goats milk.
"How are your goats?" I ask, watching her stir the milk as she tests its temperature with her digital thermometer.
She smiles. "Freddy is so funny. He hates when I pay attention to Daisy. And Delilah does this thing where she…" I nod like I'm listening, but I'm thinking about how her face lights up when she talks about her animals. We used to joke that she loved her goats more than us, and maybe we were really only half kidding. A few years ago there was a barn fire and my mom lost some goats. If it hadn't been for Wes's bravery, (or stupidity, depending on who's talking about it) she would've lost more.
"I'm glad you're enjoying them, Mom."
"I need something now that you're all out of the house. Wes is the only one still living on the HCC. You're at school, and Warner and Wyatt moved out to be with their new families." The thermometer hits one hundred eighty degrees, and she moves the pan from the burner. "Not that I'm complaining. I'd be kicking their asses out if they were as old as they are and still living at home."
I measure out the lemon juice and add it, she stirs, then I add the vinegar and she stirs again. "Okay," she announces, using a dishcloth to wipe a few drops of milk from the counter. "Thirty minutes at rest and then we'll finish up."
"Sounds good, Mom. Anything else I can do?"
"Why don't you go see Hester Prynne? Wyatt rides her to make sure she gets exercise, but she misses you."
"Good idea." I kiss her cheek. "By the way, Gramps is sleeping in the living room."
