Alex

WHO IN THE WORLD did that hoity-toity clean cut little blonde sorority sister think she was? She was about a minute older than me and speaking to me like she was my grandma whom I should respect without her having to earn it.  Who on earth gave a day's notice for an ‘inspection’ and what the fuck was she wearing? She must have thought she was boarding a cruise ship. She had that type of blonde hair that cost a damned fortune so it looked natural, yet I knew no one’s hair was that light naturally with so many different strands of white and gold that sparkled under the sunlight. Her skin was soft and shiny with a light tan than was definitely enhanced and not hard won under the relentless sun like mine. She was a pampered pooch with too much money, who thought she could come here and tell me how to increase the bottom line, some rich bitch from New York City.

She knew nothing about farming and the hard-fought battle that every harvest brought. She had no idea about this land that I had grown up on, this land that was my birth-right and yet she owned it. I hated her. Perhaps it was misplaced. When she called I tried to be polite, but when she said she was staying for a while the anger surged. I didn’t like visitors full stop and uninvited ones were the worst.

This farm had belonged to my family for generations and my grandfather, Theo Miller, left it to my mom. She had to be the weakest link in a long line of proud, hard workers. Lacey Davenport had no idea about my mom and her demons, no idea who ran the farm for her and who covered up for the Miller mistakes.

I watched her stomp to her huge, white Chevy with her ass swaying in some white pants. She had one of those bodies that most city girls had. All skinny because they don’t eat, thinking that is attractive. This one seemed to have a decent ass and tits however, but her pins were skeletal. She was pretty in a coiffed way, hard to look at directly as she made me feel like a homeless person.

“Who the hell is that?” I heard from behind me. Straight away our big, old dog, Bear barked and walked to where my little brother, Logan, stood.

“Language,” I quipped without hesitation, my natural reaction to my ten-year-old brother’s potty mouth. The little guy had grown up around farmhands and cowboys who swore like navvies.

“Hell ain’t even cussin’,” he said. Logan bent to stroke Bear and then walked to stand next to me as Lacey Davenport screeched out of the driveway to follow the well driven dirt path to the guest cottage that hadn’t been lived in for a few years. “Who is she?” He bent and wrapped his arms around the big lummox who was the same age as him.

“The owner,” I told him deadpan, “she’s come checkin’ up.” I blew out a defeated breath. “Now go up and get started on your homework. You seen Sara?” I looked down at him and he shrugged.

“She’s not gotten back from school yet,” he told me, his blue eyes wide with innocence and a smile tugged at my lips. The little guy liked to act all tough and thought he was an adult when really he was just a baby and the odd time it showed.

“I’ll call her,” I shook my head. I didn’t need her shit at that moment as well as dealing with our little visitor. My fourteen-year-old sister, Sara, was a complete pain in my ass and the amount of time I spent tracking her down could be better spent in my opinion.

I turned and marched inside our family home and found my cell phone on the kitchen table. The house was exactly as my grandparents had kept it. We hadn’t had the money these past years to redecorate and my mom had never had the inclination. I didn’t have many people over, only my ex, Amber, who refused to accept we were done. So I didn’t care much about the inside of our house but that woman could never enter and see the tired interior. The wallpaper was peeling in some areas and the kitchen cabinets were wooden and dated. The kitchen was set at the back of the house behind a long living room that opened into it by double internal doors. On the other side of the house was a dining room and a second living room that we didn’t use since my grandpa had passed. He used to sit in there.

I dialed my sister. It rang for about six rings and I was a heartbeat away from grabbing my keys and going to trawl for her. “Hey,” she answered acidly.

“Where are you, Sara?” I snapped. I walked to the hob of the cooker and checked the stew I’d made a few days ago to see if it was still good for dinner.

“School,” she sighed in a bored tone.

“You miss the bus?” I was losing my temper.

“I got detention, overprotective much?” she sassed.

“I’ll come get you.” I placed the lid back on the pan.

“I can get a ride,” she added, her tone changing to panic mode.

“Where are you really?” I asked.

“What’s it to you? I’ll be home when I’m home.”  Her voice was haughty and full of venom.

“How about no,” I told her. Two could play this game. I was about as enthralled as she was with the current situation, I mean what twenty-five-year-old guy wanted a fourteen-year-old hormonal nightmare to look out for? “If you don’t want Child Services sniffing around here, then I suggest you toe the line and stay away from your stoner buddies.”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about,” she spat out.

“Be at the school when I get there in thirty minutes or else I’ll call the cops myself, missing person report and all.” I was done with her shit.

“Fine,” she snapped.

I hung up, “Come on Logan, let’s go get Sara and I’ll get us pizza for dinner on the way home.”

“Yessss,” he hissed, “with pepperoni?”

“Sure thing buddy,” I ruffled his dark hair as I grabbed my keys, “Bear!” I shouted the drooling, old man who was most likely snoozing somewhere in the shade, and we all made our way outside. The anger at my attempted tearaway sister and her refusal to be a law-abiding citizen made me almost forget the sinking feeling in my stomach from my meeting with Lacey before. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with. My mom was currently in her sixth rehab stint, the second that year.

To all intents and purposes Emma-Louise Miller was the best friend you would ever have the first time you met her. She was hilarious, crazy, impulsive, friendly, passionate and impressively informed about most things. She was intense and drew people in, but she had demons that in all my years she had never managed to get over. With the crazy highs came the crashing lows and her addiction to prescription medication had started before I was even born. Her need to be medicated led to other substance abuse mixed with alcohol to numb any remaining pain... or brain cells.

Her vivacious personality and good looks had drawn men in, but her addictions had never allowed anyone to stick around. My father was long gone and as an only child her parents picked up the pieces; my two siblings had different fathers, and neither stuck around long enough to even be called a step-dad. She was a dreamer, in love with being in love but not capable of having meaningful relationships. I sat up in the night with Logan when he had colic as a baby even though I was fifteen and supposed to be studying for mid-terms.

I taught Sara how to ride a bike, cooked meals for my grandpa when he was sick, and I organized the latest rehab stint when we couldn’t handle her at home anymore. She had been gone two weeks and Sara was acting out again. I got it, I really did... it sucked, but she should be helping me not making things so much harder. I dreaded her getting pregnant or, worse still, ending up a junkie like our mom. My grandfather was a well-respected businessman in our small town of Celebration Falls, he donated to charities and built a library at the local elementary school that was still named after him. The Millers had been the local land owners who were looked up to and big employers in town. Luckily my mom only shot the whole thing to shit once my grandpa died but he would be turning in his grave at what she had done.  He and my grandma hid her addictions from the town, dealt with it all at home but after their deaths it became very apparent that she wasn’t coping at all well.

She re-mortgaged, she lost control and now we had lost everything.

Now we were the tenants on our own land.

I would never forgive her. I could barely look at her and yet here I was stuck caring for her mistakes whilst she wasted more money on a rehab stay where she had probably already sourced more pills.

I locked up and Logan, Bear and I set off to collect Sara, “Will Momma call tonight?” he asked me, turning his head to face me from the passenger seat of the truck.  Bear sat in between us panting in the back, his nose as close as he could get it.

“I don’t know, buddy.” I told him honestly. My heart ached for the little guy who still loved the bones of the pathetic excuse we had for a mom. “You know she isn’t allowed her cell, so we just gotta wait and see.”

He nodded solemnly and looked ahead out of the windscreen.

“Can I come on perimeter checks with you this weekend?” he asked a moment later, as if that would make up for not having his mom.

“Sure,” I nodded and gave him a grin, “you know I need your help, little buddy.”

He smiled back and visibly relaxed. I wished I could relax. I wished I could have someone take care of me and make me feel like my whole world wasn’t one landlord check from falling apart around my goddamned feet.