4. Austin
FOUR
Austin
D riving back to Sweetkiss Creek from the family farm today, I had to tip my hat to my mother: she had gotten me out of the house for breakfast this morning. Only she could trick me into coming out to see her so she can check on me. If I asked her outright if that was her plan, no doubt she’d deny it. That’s fine. In retrospect, I know her well enough that I should have caught on to what she was doing.
Her ask? If I could help move a few pieces of furniture that she’d sold to the porch. Only when I arrived—surprise!—she didn’t need my help any longer. Like magic, the people she was expecting had already stopped by and picked up the items. So, of course she invites me to stay for breakfast instead.
The drive back had taken me a little longer than the drive there. I’d had one of those weird moments like I wasn’t sure I knew where I was. It was disorienting, to say the least, but made me slow down and err on this side of caution.
It had started with the potholes in the road. I don’t remember them being this bumpy. I know these roads like the back of my hand, so I’m curious why today they feel harder to navigate. As if when I look at the road ahead, I don’t know what is coming around the next turn, even though it’s a familiar stretch of road that I grew up on. Kind of like my life right now, isn’t it? No wonder my own mother has taken to trickery to get me over to visit.
Coming over a small rise, I can see my property ahead, alerting me that I’m home. Slowly, I let my gaze slide over to my new neighbor’s home. There’s a bright yellow van parked in her driveway, making me wonder what’s already broken down that she needs to have fixed.
That house was, at one time, part of my grandparents’ property. They’d built it as a rental, but it had come in handy when they needed money to help because crops weren’t their best one year. The house was there for them to sell off so they could put the cash into savings.
The nostalgic part of me always thought I’d be in a position to get it back one day. Truly. I’d thought when I hit it big that I would be the one: the member of the family who could swoop in and save my people. Not that anyone needs saving, but you know, I wanted to be the caretaker for once. The son who when their mom says, “I need to pay a bill,” he’s the one who pays it.
Slowing down, I put on my blinker to turn into the lane, keeping my focus on my end game of getting home. However, it only takes one word on the side of that van to draw my attention and set off an alarm.
Landscaping.
Slamming my foot on the brake, I throw my truck into reverse, backing up at a ridiculous rate of speed so I can pull into Bex’s driveway. I’m going so fast, my truck all but slides to a stop behind the van. I hop out, and when I look across the back lawn, I find Bex standing near the hedge that separates our properties with a large workman beside her.
“Hey!” I call out, marching to where they stand huddled together. “Are you looking at that hedge?”
I swear I see her bristle from here. As Bex stands up taller as I approach, I realize I haven’t seen her—like seen her—since before my injury. I’d forgotten how utterly drop-dead beautiful she is. Her face breaks into a huge smile when she sees me, taking me off guard.
There’s a stab at a distant memory, reminding me that at one time, I thought she was really cute. Like, I wanted to kiss her cute…not that it matters now.
No one wants a defect like me.
“Hey, Austin,” she calls out. She turns and says something to the man before she jogs over to me. “It’s really nice to see you. Crazy we’re neighbors, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s nuts.” I point to the hedge. “Are you thinking of doing something to that?”
“Well, yes,” she says, parking her hands on her hips. “I’m having it trimmed back.”
“Trimming it.” Threading my arms across my chest, I pull myself tight in the center as I narrow my eyes and stare at her. “You need to ask my permission, Bex. It’s on my property.”
“Actually, Austin,” Bex says, shaking her head as she pulls out a piece of paper from a folder she’s holding and hands it to me, “I’m the kind of person who does my due diligence. I checked the country records this morning so I could find out where the property lines are.” She flips to a page with a sketch of our section on it, pointing to a red line. “That line there, the one that’s on the other side of the hedge, is an indication of where my property boundary is.”
Holding the paper in my hands, I begin to feel uncharacteristically full of rage. My hands begin shaking and, out of the corner of my eye, I notice Bex taking a step away from me.
“This,” I say, holding the paper in the air, “is from your realtor?”
She nods. “I’m happy to put you in touch with Kaci, but she’s on vacation visiting her best friend.”
“I know who Kaci is.” She’s the local realtor I tried to talk into selling me this house out from under Spencer, but she wouldn’t do it. That’s a smart woman right there.
“Sorry, Austin,” Bex says. “I was going to come over to see you about this once the landscaper left.”
“Well, this is the first I’ve heard about this hedge being an issue. This land has been in my family for a long time, and I know this hedge was put in by my grandparents.”
“I get it.” Bex nods, her face morphing as she takes on an expression like she’s dealing with a toddler. “I want to find a compromise if we can.”
“Okay.” I drop my arms to my sides. “Will you consider not trimming the hedge in some way?”
She sighs, flipping her hair over her shoulder and treating me to a whiff of some kind of citrus fruit. I do love oranges. “I really want the view, Austin. I want to be able to sit in my backyard and see the pretty pond that’s between our homes.”
I can’t help it. I roll my eyes. “Then take a picture.”
“Not the kind of answer I was hoping for.”
“Well, you’re not the kind of neighbor I was hoping for.” Not at all. I like my neighbors to be less attractive and to at least smell bad. But this one? She’s like sunshine and sugar kisses, and if she flips her hair one more time…
“Wow. This is not a productive conversation.” She snorts and points to my truck. “I think you should leave.”
Grunting my agreement, I take a step and my foot lands in a puddle, remnants of the storm the night before. Letting out a burdened sigh, I look down to see my new Converse covered in mud. When I look back up, Bex stands before me with her lips twitching.
“Go ahead. We’ll see who has the last laugh,” I say flippantly over my shoulder as I head back to the truck.
“You know, I don’t need you to stop by here and be so rude to me, Austin.” Her voice sounds like she’s close. When I look back over my shoulder, I see she’s following me, wagging a finger in the air.
Here we go.
“Oh?” As I get to the truck, I open the door and pause, putting her in my sights. “What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing. I need nothing from you. I just wanted to get along with the person I live closest to.”
“Well, if you want to get along, it’s easy. Do. Not. Touch. That. Hedge.”
Bex shakes her head. “I can see you’re not wanting to discuss this right now, so we’ll table it.”
I let my eyes roll to the heavens, again, and I say a quick prayer. Slamming the truck door shut again, I spin around faster than a kitchen blender. “We’re not tabling anything. Not now, not tomorrow, not next week. We’re going to call this a done deal; no one will be touching that hedge anytime soon, not without my permission first.”
“Austin,” Bex growls, putting her fingers to her temples. “That’s the thing. I don’t need your permission. I can do what I want to do to that hedge by the word of law.” She waves her folder in the air. “If I want to, I could plow those hedges…”
The mere suggestion makes me see red. It’s time to go. My lips tighten into a straight line and I feel my pulse quicken as I turn on my heel, fling the truck’s door open and hop in. I slam the door shut and finally find peace in the silence of the cab.
Once I turn over the ignition, I roll down the window and point a finger directly at Bex. “Do not do anything to that hedge. Got it? Nothing. No. Thing. Not a thing. Ever.”
“Austin,” Bex starts to say, but again, I’m seeing red. The smart part of me knows that she isn’t to blame for where this anger is coming from, but my irrational part? He’s on fire at the moment and ready to burn everything down. And I do mean everything.
I need to get him home and lock this Austin in a room.
“Nope.” I throw the gears into reverse and start to pull out of her driveaway. I make sure I can see where she’s standing and confirm she’s nowhere near the truck. For effect, of course, I hit the gas. Hard. Maybe a little too hard, in retrospect, because I also may have sped up a touch as I was backing up.
So, no, I don’t see that puddle my tire lands in, spraying mud all over Bex in the process. But you can bet I hear about it.
Her high-pitched scream stops me in my tracks. I hit the brakes, only when I do, the truck is already rolling into another puddle and the friction of my stopping causes another wave to rise up and splash out, covering the parts of her that aren’t already under mud a nice thick coat of murky browny-gray.
I’m horrified. Even after being as mad as I was a second ago, I surely did not mean for this to escalate so quickly.
I go to open the door, but Bex holds up her hand.
“Go.” She points one long, mud-covered arm toward my house. “Just go home and leave me alone.”
“But…”
She shakes her head, looking at me with what appears to be confusion in her eyes. “What happened to you?”
“You did what?”
Sighing, I lay on Emma’s sturdy travel massage table and repeat myself. “I accidentally sprayed her with mud.” Five tiny digits dig into the flesh around my shoulder. My karma, obviously, for my earlier actions. “Ouch.”
“Sorry.” Emma snickers. “I must be channeling your new neighbor’s irritation and it’s coming through. How can you spray someone with mud by accident?”
The sound of someone clearing their throat echoes in the small space. Since Emma’s here with me, I quickly deduce it’s Amy, my housekeeper. She’d shown up today with a homemade tuna casserole, and two days early for her usual cleaning day, but that’s a conversation for another day.
“Excuse me, Austin?” she all but purrs. “Your sheets in the bedroom have been changed and all of the laundry is put away. Need anything else before I go?”
“Nope, thank you, Amy.” I keep my face pressed into the hole cut into the table. Look, I know she likes me, but I try to watch everything I do so I don’t lead her on, you know? She seems nice enough except for the time I caught her changing in my bedroom.
“Okay,” she says slowly. I can hear her footsteps as she makes her way toward the foyer. “See you soon.”
As she leaves, Emma’s fingers dig in even more. It feels like she’s trying to rip my muscles apart.
“For someone who’s supposed to be here aiding me with my recovery, you’re doing a terrible job.”
There’s a pause as her fingers are replaced with what must be the pointy tip of her elbow. She leans into me with all of her weight, grunting in the process while I bite my tongue so I don’t emit the high-pitched squeal that’s currently caught in my throat.
“Terrible?” She eases off only to come back with more force. It’s like a sumo wrestler has taken over the body of my physical therapist. “I’d watch it if I was you. Although, saying that, I need to make sure I’m nowhere near you the next time we’re in the driveway.”
“It was an accident,” I whine as she taps me on the head lightly, her signal that it’s time for me to roll over.
“Austin, you need to deal with your boundaries here. First up, that maid.”
Sighing, I throw my hands in the air. “She has a crush.”
“On her boss. Didn’t you tell me you found some socks and that some of your T-shirts were missing after she started?”
“Well, yes,” I confess. “Underwear, too, but I could have lost them myself.”
“And you hired her to be here once a week, and now she shows up at least twice a week?”
“She said she was worried and wanted to make sure the house was clean.”
“Austin.” I can hear the shock in her tone. “No one does that. Get a new maid. And go tell your neighbor you’re sorry.” Greased hands begin massaging the bottoms of my feet, sending me straight to heaven. Emma knows my soft spot. “But, really, I know another cleaning service and I’m happy to send you their details. Discreet and old.”
“Old?”
She cackles. “Little old retired women work for the company, and I think for you, it’s perfect.”
I’m seriously contemplating Emma’s suggestion when the door that enters into my kitchen opens and closes, the screen door slamming with such force I think momentarily it came off its hinges.
“Austin!” My mother’s voice echoes through the house. For someone who was so happy to see me earlier today, she doesn’t sound so pleased now.
“In here,” I call out, lifting my head up and squinting as she appears in the room and beside me within seconds. “Good thing I’m not meditating or doing something important, you know. Like working with my physical therapist.”
“Hi, Emma Rose,” Mom says, acknowledging the therapist––with her first and last name oddly enough––who has worked with both of her sons over the years, helping us through various injuries. But make no mistake, her focus is on me. “You know, Austin, I’d love to know why your sweet new neighbor who we just spoke to is outside of her house, standing under a hose cleaning mud off herself and wishing all the evils of the underworld on you and your kin?”
“Yeah,” Levi agrees, waltzing into the room behind her. “Since we’re your kin, we need to know why we’re being cursed.” He sees I have company and waves. “Hey, Emma.”
Emma’s hands stop moving. I open one eye only to find her looking at me and shaking her head. “I’m gonna give y’all a few minutes to talk this over. Holler when you’re ready.”
I push myself so I’m sitting upright when Mom parks herself in front of me wearing her sternest expression. “I’m serious, Austin Leonardo Porter. What has that girl done to you?”
I wince hearing the use of my middle name. This means she’s really mad, and it also means that Levi is due to start laughing.
“Leonardo,” Levi begins on cue. “Like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.”
“Shush,” Mom says, not even looking at him. She points one long finger my way. “I want to know why you were in such a mood today that you verbally assaulted your new neighbor and then covered her in mud?”
“Like a pig.” Levi is still smirking. I can see his mug over my mother’s shoulder, but she won’t turn around. So she has no idea what I’m dealing with—sibling superiority of the worst kind. “Maybe we should have called you ‘Peppa’ or ‘Porky’ and not Leonardo.”
“Maybe you should…” I start to tell him off, but the moment I flex my hand and try to get off the table, Mom places her hand on my shoulder and firmly puts me back into place.
“Don’t you dare move. I’ve had it.”
“You think you’ve had it? What about me?” I toss my hands in the air. “I’m the one who is sitting here alone recovering every day. By myself.”
She sniffs. “That was your decision. Not ours. Don’t take that out on us.”
“I can do what I want, I’m the one who has to start over.” Even I’m cringing as the sound of my whiny voice fills the room.
“You can, but when you do, your actions affect us. And don’t forget I’m your mother. I brought you into this world, I can take you out of it.”
She’s used that one on me before. “I’m an adult now.”
“Prove it.”
“It’s not like I invited you guys to come by here—”
This is when Levi gives me the impression he’s also had enough. “That’s it,” he interjects, clapping his hands together. Finally someone comes to my defense for once. But my, how the tables turn. Where there should’ve been brotherly love, he’s taking a different side. “You need to quit talking to our mother like she’s not worth your time. In fact, you need to stop talking to all of us like we’re an imposition. I think we’re all tired of it, Austin.”
“Et tu, Brute?” Slowly, I lower myself back onto the massage table and begin rubbing my temples. Even though it feels good to spout off some steam, it also doesn’t. It’s hollow anger, which is kind of how I feel most of the time.
“Don’t quote words at me,” Levi huffs. “I don’t want to hear you talking to our mother like that, nor do I want you talking to me the way you have been. I can put up with a lot, but it’s been too much and going on for too long.”
“Really? You’re not the one who was forced into early retirement. You chose to leave.”
I thought that would shut him up. It only adds fuel to his fire.
“You have a torn Achilles. You could heal and get back on the field, but you have to want it bad enough. One thing I don’t see from you is that kind of want.” Levi throws his hands in the air. “I’ve watched you treat our mother like crap, witnessed your meltdowns for months now, and not said a thing, only now they’re spilling onto your neighbor. How long until you start treating Georgie poorly? Or even Emma for that matter?”
I’m offended. “You really think I’d lash out at either one of them—”
“Yes,” he interjects. “I do. Have you seen yourself lately and paid attention to how you act? You are a train wreck, man.”
“Stop that,” I say, wagging a finger of warning his way.
“Or what?” he taunts. “You gonna come after me? Yell at me? Splash me with mud?” Levi snorts sarcastically. “Of course you won’t. You’re too busy avoiding me and your responsibilities to our business. We agreed that when I’m on the road, you are supposed to be the point person for our properties. Remember that?”
“Stop it, Levi.” My tone is clipped and quick, but I need him to get it. He’s pushing too hard.
Mom, who had been standing with her hands clasped and her head swiveling from side to side like she’s watching a tennis match, pipes up. “I’m not going to stop him, Austin, because your brother has a point. It’s aggressive, but it’s true.”
At least she gets my subtle hint.
“I’m being aggressive because he is,” Levi grumbles, sounding a lot like he did when we were teens.
“I’m not being aggressive, you are.” Okay. Pot meet kettle.
“Boys.” Mom comes over to the table and motions for me to scoot over. Once I do, she hops up beside me and throws an arm around me. “I think this is a tough love moment for you, but it had to happen, Austin. We can’t go on like this, you can’t go on like this.”
When I look into her eyes, I see her hurt. Her pain. And it’s not only hers, it’s the pain and hurt she has for me. For a son who isn’t able to be there for her like he used to be.
And I hate it. I need to do better.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, dragging my eyes to hers. I can’t look at Levi. I’m not ready to deal with him yet. I want to fix things with our mom first. “I don’t know why I’m compelled to be such a grump.”
At that moment, something outside my window in the distance catches my eye. Turning my head to see what it is, I spy a lone German shepherd crouched in my yard, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s actually eyeballing me. I swear. That dog is looking me square in the eyes as he does a number two. Then, with two swift kicks of his back feet as if he was covering it, he takes off and races across the field to Bex’s house.
“Are. You. KIDDING ME?” I scream, jumping off the table and barely managing to wrap the sheet around me that covers my nether regions. Throwing open the front door, I get a little jump scare when I almost trip over Emma sitting on my front steps holding a book.
“Why are you screaming?” she asks.
“Because I want some quiet, but my house is like Grand Central Station today and that dog just dropped a turd in my yard,” I say, spit flying from my mouth. Wow. I do not recognize myself anymore.
“Say it, don’t spray it,” Emma mutters, wiping off her book. “You know, your family has a point. You have been totally on edge the last few months and you’re getting…”
“I know. Worse. I’m worse and I’m horrible and aggressive.”
“I was going to say you seem really down and depressed and like you need to talk to someone.” She shrugs, then turns her back to me, sticking her nose back into her book. “But hey, what do I know? I’m just a physical therapist trying to read a book on the porch of the grumpiest dude in Sweetkiss Creek.”
A sound at the door behind me pulls my attention. Spinning around, I find my mother and Levi standing in its frame, both with arms crossed.
“You’re out of control,” Levi says in the calmest voice I’ve heard in months.
“Out of control?” I repeat, trying to keep my eyes from bugging out of their sockets as I jab a finger in the direction of where the dog was squatting, then swing it toward Bex’s house. “Didn’t you see that dog? How would she like it if I came over to her yard and took a dump?”
“Oh, Austin,” Levi groans, rubbing his forehead like he’s suddenly got a migraine.
“I know. She wouldn’t,” I mutter, but the words sound hollow even to me.
“Don’t act like I’m on your side, ‘cause I’m not,” Levi clarifies, and I can’t tell if it’s more for my benefit or his. Not that it matters. Nothing does these days.
“Fine. Totally okay by me.” But even as the words leave my mouth, I feel a flicker of doubt. Maybe Levi’s right. Maybe I am losing it. But, please. Like I’m going to admit that.
Mom flips her hair over her shoulder and rolls her eyes, the ultimate gesture of motherly disappointment. “I should never have let you move out.”
Her words hit harder than they should. I’m suddenly aware of how quiet the room has gotten, the tension hanging in the air like a thick fog. I want to snap back, to remind them both that I’m still me, but I don’t have it in me.
I know I’m on a rocky path, that I’m out of control and have been. Truth is, I’ve gotten so used to feeling bad that I’m not sure I know how to feel good or like there’s anything to look forward to anymore. I don’t know when it happened nor how, I just know it has. And it sucks.
Instead, I stare at the door, thinking about Bex and that infuriating dog. Thinking about how everything is spiraling out of control, and how I’ve never felt so lost. But mostly, I’m thinking about everyone else’s expectations. I grit my teeth, feeling the weight pressing down on me like a stubborn fog.
“Don’t worry about me,” I say, forcing a smirk that feels more like a grimace. “I’m just getting started.”
But even as the words hang in the air, I know they’re a lie.
As my brilliant declaration hangs in the air, I know it’s as believable as a cat claiming it’s “just looking” at the goldfish. The real question now is: How on earth am I going to untangle this ridiculous mess I’ve made without turning the world around me into a full-blown soap opera?