“Not really. Gracie and I have gone on and on about it. Which only felt like it was making it worse.”
“Okay. Well, I can also not talk about it. Are you going to the get-together tonight?”
I hadn’t been planning on it. Again, my uncles and male cousins were going to have a lot to say about my situation. But sitting around in silence at the homestead was only letting my mind wander.
And it always found its way back to, well, him.
Maybe talking to everyone else about what was going on with them would help.
Besides, I couldn’t avoid my family for the next few weeks, months, year, however long this was going on.
Last I heard from my lawyer, Harrison’s attorneys had been giving him the runaround, talking about meetings and trips and all kinds of scheduling conflicts. It sounded like it was going to be a while before this went to court.
So I was just going to have to move on while waiting for that day.
“I guess,” I agreed.
“You don’t have to act like it’s going to be torture. We always have a good time. And then we can come back here, and you can sleep on my uncomfortable couch and grumble at the roosters every morning.”
“Hey, it is not my fault they wake up at four-forty-five every morning.”
“It’s not their fault you don’t go to bed until two a.m.”
“True.”
“Is it just the jet-setting lifestyle, or are you having trouble sleeping?”
“Both, I guess.”
“I can brew you up some chamomile—don’t make that face!”
Yeah, I was totally making a face.
“You know how I feel about black tea. Can you imagine my feelings on herbal?”
“It’s good with a little honey.”
“I’ll bet it tastes like boiled grass.”
“You’re impossible. Well, the tea is in the cabinet over the kettle if you want to try it. I have to go get all the animals away before I shower and get ready for tonight. Feel free to clean up first,” she said with a pointed look at my hair that probably was looking flat and greasy.
“Can I borrow something to wear?” I asked. Of all my cousins, Kit was probably the one I was closest to, size-wise, even if our styles didn’t exactly overlap, save for both of us liking the color black.
“Definitely. Just don’t take my lace duster. I’m wearing that tonight.”
“Seeing as I’m not entirely sure what a ‘duster’ is, I think there is a very low chance of me borrowing that,” I said as she made her way to the door, grabbing her comically large-brim sunhat as she went.
“Alright, buddy,” I said, petting the dog’s giant head. “You gotta let me up. Your mom thinks I’m gross and need a shower.” The dog seemed unmoved by my argument. “You don’t care that I’m icky, do you?” I asked, giving his ears a good rub. “Then again, you smell butts for fun, so I don’t know if you’re a good judge of stinkiness.”
I folded down, resting my head on his fluffy white fur.
“Maybe I need a dog,” I said, getting a tail thump in response to my words.
“I mean, I probably travel too much. But if I get a friendly boy like you, he could hang out here on the farm when I’m out of town. Or maybe he would keep me from moving around so much.”
You could say I was having a bit of an existential crisis since crashing at the homestead.
Because all of a sudden, when I thought about traveling, when I thought about trying to find a good game, I felt nothing. No excitement. No thrill. No motivation. Just… nothing.
