I want to engage even though I know she doesn’t really care how my day was, but at the same time, I just want a shower and my bed. Alone at night is the only time I allow myself to think of Frankie. It’s the only time I give myself to transform and manipulate all the times I was mean to her into loving-and-caring scenarios. It’s the only time I picture her arms around me as I tell her all the things I should’ve said while she was here rather than the vile things, I spit at her.
“It was a busy day,” I offer.
Truth is, ranching is monotonous and boring, the work physically demanding but doesn’t really trigger any mental needs.
“That’s nice.” Mom turns with both plates in her hands and walks toward the table. “Wash up so we can have supper.”
Her eyes are empty, but she attempts a weak smile in my direction before I head to the sink to wash my hands.
“Thank you,” I tell her as I sit at the table.
I avoid looking at the empty spot, but my dad’s chair demands my attention. The familiar burn in my nose warns me of impending tears, but I drop my head and scoop food into my mouth instead. If Mom is making an effort, so can I.
“I’ve made arrangements for you.”
My fork clatters to my plate, and I don’t bother apologizing or picking it back up as I raise my eyes to look at her.
“Arrangements?”
“We can’t stay here, Ezekiel. This is the foreman’s house.”
Anger simmers, threatening to boil over. Is this why Rowdy was so nice to me today? Was he attempting to soften the blow before he told me we had to leave the property?
“Mrs. Jacobson is kicking us out?”
Dad hasn’t even been in the ground forty-eight hours yet.
“No, of course not. She’d never ask us to leave, but it wouldn’t be right to stay here.”
“I’ve been saving. Maybe we can pay rent?”
Truth is, I’ve handed the majority of my paycheck over to my parents since I started working. All I have, honestly, is walking around money, less than a hundred bucks if I had to guess.
“We’re not staying in Utah, Ezekiel.” She sighs, hanging her head to look at her plate like it’s killing her to even speak of leaving this place.
Dad is here. He’s in every room, in every piece of furniture. He’s in the land, having touched all that is around us. The tears threaten again.
“I don’t want to leave.” The words come out broken, the burn in my throat increasing until tears begin to roll down my cheeks.
I’m losing everything. My dad and Frankie were the hardest blows, but now our home, my friends, the only place I’ve ever known? It’s all too much, an unbearable loss.
“I don’t want to leave either.” She clears her throat, straightens in her chair and looks at me with a level of resilience I haven’t seen in weeks. God, she’s so strong. How could I have ever thought this woman was weak? “I have to find a job and there’s nothing around here that will allow me to handle all the bills myself.”
“I can help,” I barter. “I’ll keep working on the ranch. I can quit school and get my GED so I can work full time. We don’t have to leave.”
“It’s already been decided.” The look on her face doesn’t leave room for argument.
My fists clench in my lap, but I somehow keep a handle on my anger, thoughts of the last time I raised my voice at the supper table preventing me from doing it again.
“And where are we going?”
“Westover, Colorado.”Chapter 30Frankie
“Ridiculous,” I mutter as I look at myself in the mirror. “Westover Prep should’ve stuck with uniforms.”
I rip the pink shirt over my head and reach for a different top.
“What was wrong with it?” Piper’s voice filters into my room from being on speaker phone.
“Why did you let me buy a pink shirt?” I grumble as I fight my way into a teal-colored blouse.
“You looked great in that shirt at the store, remember?”
“Well, I look stupid in it now,” I argue. “People already see me as a little girl. The last thing I need to do is give them more ammunition with a bubble gum pink top.”
“I told you things will be different this year,” she assures me. “It’s our senior year, and things are going to be amazing.”
I don’t argue with her. There wouldn’t be a point. Piper has stars in her eyes and great plans, all because Dalton is no longer acting like a jerk, and that’s awesome, but he’s one person. He can’t control the droves of other hateful people in school.
I’m dreading today, no matter how much Piper tries to perk me up.
“See you at school?”
I grin at the uncertainty in her voice. “I’ll be there.”