Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“I might’ve come out, but that doesn’t mean I can freely express myself, not after I ruined so many things.”
Damn, that was some heavy shit he was keeping inside. And if anything, I swore to at least become someone he could feel free around. We didn’t get a chance to speak on it any further, and I wasn’t sure if he knew what I was hinting at when I told him I understood. I was hoping for a follow-up conversation soon because it was becoming more and more evident that he was feeling pretty shitty about himself and could use a friend. So maybe Mom had been right all along.
I stood up to stretch, my eyes scanning the horizon toward the Carmichael Ranch. I felt a bit nervous about dinner, to be honest. It was silly because I knew the family well enough, even if it had been years. Besides, Mom would want a full report. We’d planned a phone call this evening since we’d barely been able to connect all week.
Mom hadn’t seen the family in ages either, and her stance had cooled toward them in recent years, especially for giving Kerry the cold shoulder after he came out. Although maybe it would’ve been an easier pill to swallow had he not been married with a child.
Or maybe not.
At least Aunt Maggie had come around after Ainsley had gotten sick. In fact, she had been to the farm last weekend to drive Ainsley to a horse show. She had invited me to tag along, but I begged off. Besides, Ainsley was still a bit wary around me and was mostly tied to Sienna’s hip. But as long as I kept the conversation playful, she seemed to relax pretty easily.
Once they’d returned from the horse show, Aunt Maggie and I spent some time catching up. She had been divorced from Sienna’s father for about eight years, if my memory served me right, so it would’ve been hard to see her own daughter experience similar heartache. But whereas Sienna’s dad was now remarried and living in another state, Kerry had stuck around. From what I witnessed, Aunt Maggie seemed to get on well with him, and she’d watched fondly as Ainsley skipped off with Kerry to collect eggs from the chicken coop. She knew deep down he was a good man. She just needed time, and maybe they all did. Not that it was any of my business. But it was hard not to be curious when I’d be around them all summer. This was sure to be only one of many Carmichael family dinners.
When I heard the screen door spring open behind me, I whirled around as if they’d been able to hear my thoughts. Ridiculous.
“Let’s go,” Sienna said, and we piled into the truck and rode over to the Carmichael Ranch, which was right next door but seemed miles away.
Kerry parked in the turnaround, and Ainsley was the first out of the car, excited to see her grandparents, no doubt. They had come out on the porch to greet us. Apparently, that was a thing people did in small towns. Go figure.
Kerry wore what looked like a forced smile as he walked toward the porch with Sienna and me following behind.
“You just keep on growing, little lady,” Mrs. Carmichael said as she bent down to accept the kiss on the cheek from her granddaughter.
“Doesn’t she?” Sienna replied, placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and smiling. “Before you know it, she’ll be taller than the both of us.”
Kerry bent forward to kiss his mom’s cheeks, then turned almost reluctantly to his dad. I had expected at least an uncomfortable shoulder pat or something between the men, but nothing of the sort happened as they merely stared each other down.
“Uh, you remember Julian,” Sienna said as if she was their buffer. “Aunt Melinda’s son?”
“Been a few years,” Mr. Carmichael said, stepping forward and shaking my hand. “Thanks for your service to this country.”
“You’re welcome, sir.” I could see the respect shining in his eyes. It was a sentiment soldiers got often, and most of us appreciated it because it was definitely better than being forgotten.
A memory of Smithy spouting off on one of our patrols suddenly came to mind. “Yeah, we signed up for this, but nobody wants to hear all the nitty-gritty details and how soldiers suffer after deployment. They jus’ wanna pat us on the back and call us honorable.”
My eyesight blurred, and suddenly I was in the mountains, traipsing along rougher terrain. I could feel rocks digging into the worn soles of my boots and hear the way Smithy enunciated his s’s, which I’d never be able to make fun of again.
“Hey.” I felt a strong grip on my elbow and heard a voice in my ear that belonged to Kerry. “You okay?”