The Best I Could Read Online Free Page B

my brother said suddenly. He paused, waiting, and I
knew he expected me to promise I’d stay with Deena at Hetty’s.
Because that’s what I did, I stayed. First with Dad, and now with
my sister.
    “After summer you could go back to school,
Tansy,” Hetty offered.
    To what?
    “I have my GED,” I muttered, shivering. The
idea of returning now, when I felt worlds away from everyone,
scared the shit out of me.
    Deena shimmied forward in her seat, her eyes
bright. “I want to drop out, too.”
    “No!” we cried.
    “Tansy shouldn’t have had to,” Hetty added,
bitterness eating away at the words.
    She blamed our dad for my education. The way
she looked at Jet, she also blamed him for letting me quit school
to nurse dad when he was the oldest. She didn’t get it. Jet was
just like our father. He didn’t know how to make sacrifices. People
made them for him.
    To change the subject, I suggested, “Maybe I
can work at the clinic?”
    Hetty glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
“That could be good. Do you like animals?”
    Honestly, I wasn’t sure I did. “I don’t
know.”
    “We’ll find out soon. I’ve got a house
full.”
    Deena’s eyes widened in horror. “A house
full?” she shrieked. “I hate them!”
    “Of course you do.” Hetty’s fingers tightened
on the steering wheel.
    “It’s all going to be fine,” Jet assured.
    His promise echoed through the small space,
meaning something different to each of us.
    Fine was a four letter word. Like fuck or
love. Fine could go one of two ways: happiness or hell.

FOUR
    Eli

    The winding road which led into Lockston
Orchard reminded me of a Thomas Kinkade painting, the oaks lining
the drive sending dappled light across the dirt paths. Breaks in
the trees revealed rolling hills and other winding dirt roads that
led into the orchard itself, the trees full of green, oval-shaped
leaves and small, unripe apples. Red-roofed, white washed buildings
and sheds were nestled among the chaos. Blue skies hung overhead,
fluffy cotton candy clouds rolling over smooth, green lawns.
    Jonathan rolled down the driver’s side
window, and sweet, flower-saturated air rushed into the car’s
interior.
    He inhaled, the wind spiking his hair. “God,
I love that smell.”
    “You’re welcome to take my place here,” I
offered.
    Jonathan grinned. “Oh, I’m not leaving. I’m
with Mom this summer, remember?”
    Dread climbed up my spine, its cold fingers
gripping my heart. My gaze flew to the drive, to the large house
approaching in the distance.
    No!
    “Please tell me you’re not serious,” I
whispered, so low I knew Jonathan didn’t hear me over the wind in
the car.
    My eyes fell closed, opening only when the
Porsche pulled to a stop. My breath came in angry spurts.
    He wouldn’t!
    The door on the house’s wraparound porch
opened, my grandfather’s burly figure appearing in the light. A
short-sleeve, navy plaid shirt with pearl buttons was tucked into a
pair of gray slacks, his white-peppered hair slicked back. Pops was
incredibly fit for his age, a former naval officer who’d met my
grandmother while stationed overseas.
    It wasn’t my grandfather’s presence that gave
me chills, it was the woman who stepped onto the porch behind
him.
    He would! Fuck!
    Climbing out of the car, I slammed the door,
ignoring Jonathan’s annoyed, “Hey, now!”
    “You can go to hell if you think I’m staying
here!” I called.
    Pops walked to the edge of the veranda, his
hands sliding into his pockets, his thumbs hooked over the edge.
His battle stance. “You don’t have much of a choice, son.”
    The hell I don’t!
    “Make her leave then,” I commanded.
    “I told you he hates me!” my mother cried,
her lips quivering. A fat tear slid down her cheek. It wasn’t real.
None of it was real with her.
    “You want a new pair of shoes for that tear,
Ivy?” I asked.
    She didn’t like being called Mom. Being a
mother meant admitting she was older than she wanted to be. Being a
mother