7. Chapter 7
Mermaid Motel
Smuggler’s Hideaway
Hi Ben!
How’s life in your secret location? Do camels really spit or is that a complete lie started by camel haters? Inquiring minds want to know!
Loved the map by the way. If you ever decide to give up this soldier gig, you could start up a side hustle drawing for kindergartners. Ha! Ha!
My life does not include camels or secret locations. Just really annoying parentals – aka Mr. and Mrs. Judgy McJudgerson.
We had a big Sunday lunch at the farm last week.
Yes, the farm. I grew up on a farm. My parents raise sheep for wool and milk and also have cranberry fields.
Make fun all you want, but the addition of their cranberries in the Buccaneer gin is genius.
It adds a hint of fruit flavor and is just plain yummy.
The problem with my parents being farmers is they think their kids should be farmers, too. My brothers are totally fine with this. Thomas and Ian love being farmers. Which is fine. Good for them. They’re living their best lives (and chasing way too many mermaids but that’s a different story).
But us girls – the daughters? None of us wanted to become farmer’s wives. Because that’s all women are good for according to dear old dad.
My oldest sister, Scarlett, actually abandoned Smuggler’s Hideaway for a decade because she refused to be a farmer’s wife. She’s married to a local cop now. It’s a long and overly romantic story.
I thought after Scar confronted Mom and Dad on why she left, they’d let up on their judginess. I thought wrong. According to them, working at a motel is not a ‘real job’ and has ‘no career prospects’.
Instead, I should be dating Warren. It would be a step up from being a receptionist – I’m the manager! – since Warren’s dad owns the stables – Sirens & Saddles. I would never have to worry again if I married him.
UGH! Warren is a bully. He’s the same guy who I put hair removal creme in his shampoo bottle in high school.
He hasn’t gotten any better with age. I literally saw him snap a mermaid’s bra strap last week.
Grow up already! The idea of dating him – let alone marrying him – makes my skin crawl. No thank you.
But all my parents see and hear is stability with Warren at his stables. Stability? I’ll show them stability when I break a chair over his fat head.
I just realized I’ve spent this entire letter whining and complaining. I promise I’m not usually a whiner or a complainer. I’m a ‘get it done’ person mostly. But my parents get on my last nerve. It’s their job as parents I suppose.
Stay safe,
Sadie