Page 15 of Homesick
I wish it were that easy. When I’m not busy or working, I feel guilty for wasting time doing nothing. “About that. I took a waitressing job at the Rustic Inn,” I say nervously.
“Oh really? So, you’ll be working with your ex’s mom. What could possibly go wrong?” she says in her all-knowing mother tone. Motherhood really suits Emma.
“Hey, my beef is with Blake, not Sheila.”
“Mmhmm. Speaking of Mr. Fisher. I know you were just trying to make him jealous last weekend. You might want to be less obvious next time,” she comments, sipping her drink.
“Yeah, not my finest moment. The minute I saw him, I turned into this immature girl who wanted his attention. I hate that he brings out that side in me.”
“Not to mention Puke Gate.”
“Puke Gate?”
“That’s what everyone is calling it,” Emma says, throwing her head back and breaking out into a fit of laughter. I stare at her with an annoyed look on my face and wait for her to calm down.
“There has to be juicier gossip than that in Honey Grove. Like, come on.”
“Nope. That’s the juiciest thing to happen around here since we found out the Smith’s house guest was not just a family friend, but the third in their throuple.”
“Okay, well that doesn’t shock me though,” I laugh along with her. I missed this. “I did go over to his house the next day to apologize. He basically said he didn’t believe my apology, but he wants to be friends.”
“Well, that was very big of you,” Emma says as she uncomfortably shifts in her seat. “Just be careful. If he hurts you again, I really will slash his tires this time.”
I throw my head back in a fit of laughter. “Good to know, but no worries. Blake Fisher and I will never be friends again.”
* * *
After hanging out with Emma for a little, I finally head home. I was shocked my mom hadn’t texted me to see where I was. She probably thought I had finally had enough and found some place else to live.
I pull into our driveway and see my brother’s truck sitting near one of the barns. I figure what the hell and decide to get the inevitable out of the way.
After talking to Blake a few days ago, it’s easier to wrap my head around the idea of him and Chris being friends again. I’m not thrilled, but then again, I can’t tell my brother who to be friends with. I can, however, find ways to avoid a front row seat to their friendship.
I aimlessly wander around my family’s small farm until I spot him trying to herd some cows into the barn. “Need some help?” I holler.
“Nope, that’s the last of ‘em. I’m surprised to see you out here.”
“We both know I wasn’t built for the farming life,” I smirk as I look at him.
I’ve been told by multiple people we look alike, but I’ve never seen it. His hair is a bit darker than mine, and his nose is crooked from a fight he got into in middle school. But we do share the same light blue eyes.
“Are you free for a minute? I was hoping we could talk.”
“I really need to fix the fence row on the north end of the property before dark. Can you talk and work?”
I agree and hop on the side-by-side with him. My family owns around 350 acres of land that surrounds the farm. We used to have a much bigger herd, but my dad had to scale things back after he lost a bunch of his help to a bigger farm a few towns over. Thankfully, my brother has helped him build it up again and things are looking good. I feel guilty at times for not pulling my weight, but this life never appealed to me.
Nevertheless, I admire the rolling hills when we head deeper into the countryside. Summertime means miles and miles of greenery that you won’t find in the city. I could sit out here for hours and be completely at peace. Just me and my thoughts. Well, on second thought, that seems a little scary.
We finally pull up to the fence row he was talking about and we both hop out of the side-by-side. Our dad used to make us do this together all the time, so I mechanically take my place as the designated tool holder. I grab the bucket out of the bed and follow Chris.
“I’m assuming you want to ream me out for the whole Blake thing,” he says before taking the plyers from my hand.
“I wasn’t thrilled when I found out you two were all buddy-buddy again, but I’ve had a few days to come to terms with it. I just wish you had told me, so I wasn’t completely ambushed.”
“Well, it’s not like I’ve had any time to talk to you, Wren. I’ve only seen you a handful of times this year and any time you are home, you keep to yourself. I mean, you’ve been home for almost a week, and Mom says you hardly ever leave your room.”
Oh great, they’re having little family meetings about me. What’s next? An intervention. “I was unpacking,” I mumble under my breath. “But that’s completely valid. Emma told me that I’ve been a little guarded lately.”