Chapter 2
Riley
“Gooood morning, America!”
I open the dusty windows and let the cool, misty air in.
The end of April in East Dove means early mornings are cold, but I still love it.
Nothing makes me feel more alive than Katy Perry blasting through the speakers, fresh air floating through my windows, and a cute outfit ready to go.
I’m between riding a horse, going for a run, or going into town for yoga, all choices that would be fine with the matching flower print athletic set I’m wearing.
I throw a jacket over my shoulders and head to the main cabin, where I know Lilly awaits.
I mean, her office is there; it might be five thirty in the morning, but nobody sleeps here—occupational hazards and all.
I don’t mind it either way. There’s too much life to live to waste my days between the sheets.
I may love the drop in temperature, but I ain’t walking to the main cabin this early. Too many acres between mine and the HQ; unless I’m gonna run, but I don’t know that I need two workouts today—the run and the whiplash from interacting with Lilly.
Nope.
I hop in my Jeep and head there, continuing the Katy Perry morning music blast.
The main cabin—as we call it now—is the house I grew up in. Our family has owned this farm for generations, and we were raised here, among the animals, trees, and the river. It’s beautiful and peaceful—most times. Right now, though, is one of the times when it’s not. Breakfast time.
There are always people working on the farm year-round. In the summer, it’s busier because of the summer camp my mom started years ago. It’s still running, even though she’s not with us anymore. Right now, though, it’s just regular ol’ busy time here.
Mom and Dad started doing meals in batches. There are three hours for breakfast, three sitting times for lunch, and two for dinner, allowing the workers to kind of pick what works for their schedule. It means I never know what or who I’m going to find here at second breakfast, and I love it.
Although I’ve been gone for about four years for college, coming back for short periods of time, I feel like there’s always something different here.
I never know if it’s the decorations or maybe new utensils or what, but it always takes me a few days to feel like this is home again.
It always does in the end, though…except like something is missing—a half home.
Which is fine. It’s just odd.
I grew up here, between rooms and under tables, running and playing hide and seek, touching everything I wasn’t supposed to and then some, so why does it never feel right anymore?
Oh yeah, because they’re both gone.
My parents, the rocks of this place—cancer stole Mom, a broken heart swept Dad away, dragging the homey feeling away with them. I’ve been chasing it ever since.
I jog up the worn wooden steps, stepping through the dark mahogany door and taking it all in.
There’s a low chatter coming from the back room, where breakfast is served when camp is not in session, but knowing Lilly, she won’t be there.
She’ll be in her office already, all the problems in the world on her shoulders, snip-snapping a million directions per minute.
“Knock, knock,” I announce, peeking in and seeing I was, in fact, correct.
There she is.
Sitting at dad’s desk with papers and calendars everywhere. Her dreary gaze is focused solely on what’s in front of her, her beautiful blonde hair straight down around her face.
Never one thing out of place, not even her hair.
“Yes?” She doesn’t even look up; she must not know it’s me. Oh, sister dearest, I hope you don’t yell at me.
“Hey, sis!” I shout, overly chirpy, stepping into her fortress.
Her face turns from focused to annoyed, to surprised, and now…confused. Yup, as expected. “Riley?”
“In the flesh.”
“Riley, why are you not in school?”
Of course, that’s the first thing she asks. “Hi, sister, nice to see you too. It’s been months, and I’m so glad you’re home,” I mock, taking a seat on one of her mahogany club chairs and propping my feet on her desk that looks busier than Times Square.
She might hurt me, the way her eyes are locked on my feet, so I lower them immediately. I don’t want to die today.
“Answer my question.” Her voice cracks like a whip, making me flinch. One would think a lifetime of being on the receiving end of her shortness would make me okay with it, but nah.
“Why is it that your southern hospitality applies to everyone but me?”
She slams her hands on the desk, breathing in, trying but failing not to lose her carefully crafted self-control. “Can you just answer the question, please?”
The faster I’m done with the trial, the quicker I’ll be able to enjoy my day, so let’s go. “I finished early.”
“What did you finish early?” Her brain evaporated, I’m sure of it. Must be the countless hours she spends working instead of busting a nut.
No, wait.
Flicking her bean?
Same, same.
I laugh at my own thoughts before answering anyway. “School.” The obvious answer. I can almost hear mom’s voice in my head, telling me to show her kindness, to be patient with people’s emotions, because not everyone wears them on their sleeves. So, I take a deep breath and try.
“Don’t you graduate this summer?” For someone so smart, she surely is dense sometimes. Trying to be patient is not working.
At all.
Ugh.
“I finished early,” I repeat.
“Why?” God forbid we deviate from a plan.
“Gee, Lilly, because I’m smart? Dedicated? Because I could? I thought you’d be happy for me to come home and bring some joy to this place. You’re always complaining about something. Besides, this is my home too.”
She cocks her head to the side. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Yup!” I shout loud and proud.
“Well, I don’t have time to babysit you, Riley,” she says.
“I am twenty-two years old. I’ve lived by myself for the past four years. You don’t have to babysit me.”
“Are you still living with your head in the clouds, dreaming of traveling and seeing the world instead of settling down and finding an actual job?”
Oh, here we go again. As if traveling is such a bad idea.
I love it here, I do, and although I thought I didn’t want my whole life to be the ranch and responsibilities, I’m not sure that's not what I want anymore. The time I spent seeing, exploring, and living backfired, and I missed the ranch even more. She knows this, of course, but she still throws it in my face every time I want to talk about anything. “Well, what’s the point if you’re just going to leave either way?
” Well, sis, maybe if you weren’t such a bi—
“Riley?” Her voice snaps me from my thoughts.
“Yes, I still want to travel, of course, but that doesn’t mean I will right now.
” She has no clue I’ve spent the past three months doing that, chasing a high I never found, feeling less alive with every day I spent away.
“And I thought you said the ranch needed all the hands we could get, so I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal that I showed up a few months early. Put me to work!”
Trust me with something, I want to add, but I don’t.
“Actually, that might not be a bad idea after all. Can you stay out of trouble long enough for me to give you a few tasks?”
I bring my hand to my forehead, ready to salute her. “Aye, aye, captain.” I giggle, she scoffs—typical interaction here.
“I need the morning to gather a few things for you, can you come back later?”
“Fine,” I chirp. “I’m going for a run. I’ll be back later.”
“Please be careful. The ranch is very different from the last time you were here.” Her words stab me right in the chest. You haven’t been here.
You don’t know what’s going on. I can’t babysit you.
All words I’m used to hearing, as if it wasn’t her idea for me to leave it all behind and go to college twelve hours away.
Once I saw what’s out there, well, coming back became harder.
But you know what, big sis? I’m here to take up space. I’m ready to be home, and she won’t make me feel like I abandoned it.
This is my home too.
“I grew up here too, you know.” My accusation feels wrong, almost like child’s play, but we’re not at the playground, and life, real life, is at stake here.
“Yes, and things change.”
“People too.”
She sighs. “I don’t have time to argue right now. Be careful and come back later. I’m not asking.”
The urge to pout and stomp my feet is strong, but I won’t. I want her to treat me like the adult I am, and I can’t make that happen if I’m acting like a toddler. “I’m leaving. See you this afternoon!” I shout, running out of the office.
I press play on the audiobook I’ve been listening to for days now, because no matter how hard I try to concentrate on it, I can’t. I’m hoping that being back here, breathing this air, touching grass both literally and figuratively, can give me, well…me back.
I hope it can give me peace.
I doubt it, judging by Lilly’s reaction. But you know what? It doesn’t matter, because right now, I have my entire morning free to run until I can’t feel my legs anymore. Then, I get to unpack my whole life back into my cabin.