Logan lets out a sigh of relief. “I didn’t know.”
Cayden removes his headphones as I turn in my seat to face them. “Listen, I know you’re not happy about this. It’s been a lot of change for you in a short amount of time. But there’s a lot of fun things to do around here.” Lie. “And the schools aren’t bad.” Another lie. “Plus, you’ll make some new friends that might even be better than the ones you left.” God, I’m getting good at this. “Promise me you’ll try to make the best of it.”
They both nod. Whether or not they actually will is another story. I put the car in drive and head down the longest road I’ve ever been on. Each inch feels like a mile. The rotations of the wheels have a link to the pit in my stomach, forcing it to tighten as we move.
Mama and Daddy are on the porch watching us approach. “There you are!” Mama yells out as we exit the car.
“Mama, Daddy.” I smile as I look at my house. I’ve only been here once since I left seventeen years ago. The boys were less than a year old, and we visited for no more than two days. The entire town told stories about how my ex and I were destined to be together in front of Todd. It was extremely uncomfortable. After that, Todd paid for my parents to visit us twice a year. “You painted,” I muse.
“It’s been almost eighteen years, Presley. Of course we painted.”
It amazes me how my mother can scold me while she kisses my cheek.
The boys look around in wonder. They knew I was raised in the country, but I think their version of country and mine are a little different. Todd thought we lived in a rural area in Pennsylvania. I would laugh and roll my eyes. These boys have no idea.
Logan and Cayden assault my father with questions.
“Do you have a lot of horses, Papa?”
“Can we ride a horse?”
“Do you eat the cows you have here?”
“Is this a petting zoo?
“Does the rooster wake you up or do you have electricity? What about Wi-Fi?”
“Boys, boys.” I place my hands on their shoulder. “Easy. Yes, we have electricity. Yes, we have a few horses, and Papa doesn’t kill the cattle here, he sells them.” Then they kill them. Minor detail. “Let’s get our stuff inside and then I can show you around, okay?”
“Presley!” Cooper calls out as he walks toward us. I haven’t spoken to my brother much. I’m praying this won’t be too awkward.
“Cooper!” I smile as he gets closer. I walk toward him and he yanks me into his arms. He’s freaking huge! “Holy crap, are you bench-pressing the cows? You’re like a bear.” I don’t remember him being this tall. I’m not short, but he’s well over six foot. His chest is wide and his arms are insane. My little brother is all grown.
“I’m sorry to hear about your husband. I would’ve been there, but I had to run the ranch.”
I look at the ground and wish people would stop talking about him. I’m tired of people’s sympathy. I don’t want to be this grieving widow who’s lost and sad. No one can even begin to understand the anger I have, especially since I have to hide the truth. I can’t help but hate him for what he’s done to the three of us. He set off a bomb and left me with the fallout. “I understand, Coop. Thanks.”
He tickles my sides and becomes animated again. “But look at you, all city girl.”
“Look at you, all country,” I say, giggling.
He laughs. “Not all of us got to experience life outside of here. Someone had to run the ranch when you left to be with your boyfriend.”
Well, that took a lot less time than I thought. “Cooper.”
“You left, and I stayed. It’s just the truth.”
I roll my eyes and bite my tongue. I have a feeling the teeth impressions I’ll have on my tongue will become permanent. Cooper got the short end of the stick according to him. When I left, he was forced to take over the ranch. He had big dreams of leaving here and moving to a city. He was smart and could’ve done it, but then Daddy needed to retire, and I left. He’s resented me ever since.
“It wasn’t like that,” I try to defend myself.
He shakes his head. “You ran off with him and never came back. It’s exactly like that.” Cooper walks toward Mama who watches me with sad eyes.
Looks like it’s going to be a long few months . . . or longer.
I CAN’T SLEEP. I STARE at the ceiling in my room. The same room I lived in for eighteen years. I figured they would’ve at least taken my posters off the wall, but no. It’s a time warp in here. This whole house is. The boys almost cried when they saw their room. Flowers everywhere, on the walls, the sheets, the border . . . you’d think a florist vomited in there.
I glance at the clock—five a.m.—might as well get up.
I head downstairs to where Mama already has breakfast started. “Mornin’, Mama.”
“Mornin’, sugar. You sleep well?”