“Get out!” I scream.
Howard flinches, but he doesn’t move from the kitchen. He combs his fingers through his thinning hair and holds the back of his neck.
“We aren’t getting off to a good start. I’m going to the living room to relax a bit. When you settle down, we can talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” I yell. “And I said get out. Get out of my house.”
“Our house,” he mutters.
“Mine,” I snap, picking up the blender I use for mixing soaps and hurling it at him. It comes nowhere near his body and hits the refrigerator, denting the old mustard color.
“You’re going to fix that,” he warns and turns for the living room, removing his suit coat jacket as he walks.
I scream at the top of my lungs, more like a roar, and then I turn for the back door, making my way as fast as I can across the drive. My vision blurs. I fumble over larger chunks of rock in the gravel but continue moving forward, pressing at the barn door and closing myself inside. Instead of leaning on the large wood, I hobble to the middle of the barn and scream again.
Anger. Hatred. Grief.
Why is Howard here? Why, why, why?!
As the scream subsides to an echo, I hear a thump up above in the loft and recall the first time I heard such a sound. Jedd had just finished building his room in the barn, and I was snooping.
“I know you’re up there,” I call out. The stillness within the old structure gives away his presence even more, and my thoughts flip through the feedings and finding him outside the garage. And then the night Jedd and I rode out under moonlight, I saw him slip his broad body through the slats and disappear inside this structure.
“And I know who you are,” I yell even though I’m not certain. “Boone, you need to come down.”
There’s still not a response. No movement. No sound. And unfortunately for me, I can’t go up. There’s no way I’d risk climbing the rusty rungs of the ladder leading upward a full story or more.
“Jedd’s been looking for you,” I say, lowering my voice just a little. His questions about the house. The Crawford estate. His old home. Tears cloud my vision once again; only this time, I don’t blink them back.
“I’m so sorry, Boone,” I whisper because I didn’t know. There’s so much I didn’t know. A boy turned to man turned to recluse, alone in a house on my land. I’d never seen him, but I also didn’t pay attention. I’d been too absorbed in myself, acting in my own reclusive behavior. “It’s time to come home.”
The words are no more than a squeak as the sobs fill my throat, and I fall to my knees. With my hands over my face, I rock forward as tears bath me in all the regrets. Hannah. Boone. Jedd.
Even Howard. I’ve wasted too much time and too much energy on him, and I’ve lost years because of it, because of him.
No more, I cry. No more. But the tears continue to fall, and I let them. I need to let it all out.
Drained of all emotion, I finally return to the house. I did walk down to the stables, worried about the horses needing food or stalls cleaned as Jedd is gone. Surprisingly, the animal care is done, and I smile despite my mood, thinking my guardian angel has taken care of things again.
The days are slowly creeping longer, and it’s dusk as I enter my home. As the back door closes behind me, Hannah comes down the stairs, and Howard makes his way to the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” he questions Hannah in her yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt, a bag over her arm which holds her makeup kit and skimpy outfits.
“To work,” she tells him over her shoulder as she approaches the coat hooks by the back door and grabs her jacket.
“You work a night shift?” His eyes leap to me, accusatory once again.
“I work at the Pink Pony, Daddy. Aren’t you proud?” His mouth drops open at the salty words, and she slips her jacket over her arm and reaches for the back door.
“You’re a stripper?” His face turns white, and his lips drain of color. A sickening thought crosses my mind that Howard might have seen his own child naked and strutting her stuff without ever recognizing her. I shudder as the color returns to his face, morphing from blanched to pinkened to a deep maroon. “No child of mine will be a stripper.”
“Pot meet kettle,” Hannah states, pointing from him to her and back. She turns to me. “Come with me.” It’s a plea of concern because she’s afraid to leave me alone with Howard.
“Your…Howard was just leaving,” I answer, keeping my voice low. I reach out and pat her arm. I’m more concerned Howard will do something to the house without me present, and I want him gone.
“Grizz knows you’re here, and I’m calling Jackson to come check on you as well.” The comment surprises me, especially as Hannah has issues with Jackson James, the sheriff’s deputy, because he likes to pull her over and issue unnecessary moving violation tickets.
“We don’t need no small-time police coming out here,” Howard threatens, but Hannah ignores him, giving him a dismissive eye roll before opening the back door.
“I love you, Momma,” she says, focusing her eyes on me.
“I love you, too, sunshine.” I smile to reassure her.
As soon as Hannah exits, Howard asks, “What’s for dinner?” and I turn on him.
“I’m not running a restaurant here. Get out. And then don’t return.”
“Careful, Beverly,” he warns. “Seems entertaining a man has made you smart-mouthed.”
At this point, I should be frightened. He’s threatening me with his glare, but I know Howard. He’s a lover, not a fighter, and I don’t mean that in a positive way. He wouldn’t touch me. Gazing out the kitchen window, I see a figure, large and broad, in the receding taillights of Hannah’s car, and I know I’m safe. My savior-angel is out there.
I’m ready to make my way to my room when another set of headlights illuminates the drive outside the window. Holding my breath, I want to rush to the glass in hopes Jedd has returned. The thought hits me hard. Will he come back?
For another second, I consider Hannah has turned around and come back to force me to follow her, returning to her status as the domineering child over the stubborn mother, but I quickly notice the car is not Hannah’s, but a smaller vehicle. It’s a VW convertible Bug. As the headlights turn off, two doors open at the same time, and I’m shocked to see the outlines of my sisters.
“Now what?” Howard snaps. He’s still standing by a kitchen chair, but his arms cross over his thin chest. The sight of him in a threadbare dress shirt strikes me as so opposite of Jedd. Sleeves to his wrists, Howard’s skin is pale compared to Jedd, proving he’s spent more time indoors than out. I have no idea what he’s done for work over the years, and I don’t even want to ask.
“Knock, knock,” comes the false cheer of my sister Naomi as she helps herself to enter my house through the back door. Flabbergasted, I stare in amazement as my other sister Scotia follows Naomi in a sleek dress suit with a bright red skirt and coordinating blazer. Her lips are red to match. Her dark hair, with a single stripe of white, is perfectly coifed compared to the waves of our other sister, whose untamed riot is wild and long, giving her the appearance of a good-natured witch.