I coughed, trying to stop myself from choking on the hot coffee. “Little sister?”
She smiled, the first one I’d seen from her. “Yes. I’m her little, taller sister.”
Old conversations with Riley flew through my mind. She’d talked about her half-sister who’d been much younger than her. She’d visited her occasionally but had never lived in the same house with her. “How old are you? You’re as tall as my sister, Nola.”
“I’m fifteen.”
I did some quick math in my head. Riley was nine years older than her. That meant that Wren had been born the year after Riley had been taken into custody by DHS.
“I know who you are,” Wren went on.
“You do?” I asked.
She pointed to the picture I’d noticed a couple days before—the picture of Nola, Riley, and me. I guessed she would know me then. Although, I looked like I’d lifted nothing heavier than a piece of paper in that picture.
“Hmm, yeah. I don’t think that’s me.” I looked at the skinny kid with his arms around Nola’s and Riley’s shoulders. “Couldn’t possibly be me.”
She pulled something from around her wrist and tied her hair up on the top of her head. It made her look her age—finally. “Pretty sure that’s you. So. Why are you here?”
“I like to show up in strangers’ trailers and drink coffee with them.”
Wren sat down at the table again and picked up her phone. “I heard my sister was yelling and screaming at you in your house yesterday. Sorry about that.”
“Word travels fast.”
“Sure. You’re about to find out how fast it can travel living here. Hey, don’t take anything personal that Riley says to you. She talks about you all the time. She just doesn’t know how to fit our two worlds together. But if you tell her I told you that, I’ll go to my grave saying it isn’t true.” She nodded toward the door behind me.
It was the only warning I had.
The door swung open, and Riley stepped in, breathing heavily with bright-red cheeks. A baseball cap was pulled low over her eyes. She didn’t realize I was there.
She flipped her hat off, letting it fall to the floor, and began fanning the bottom of her shirt. Wren snickered and commented, “Looking good, sis.”
“Ha, be quiet, you. You didn’t even—“ She cut herself off when her eyes landed on me. With a jerk, she yanked her shirt down to cover the hint of skin she’d exposed. Her red cheeks had turned ghostly white. “What are you doing here?”
“Just drinking coffee with your sister.” I took an exaggerated drink without breaking eye contact with her.
“Wren, don’t you have somewhere to be?” she asked icily as she swiped at the sweat on her neck.
“Not that I can think of,” Wren said with a smile.
I liked that girl. Mom would eat her up if she got her hands on her. I’d have to introduce them.
“I thought you were going to the lake with Macy today.”
Wren leaned back in her seat. “This seems a lot more interesting.”
Riley turned the full force of her glare on Wren. Wren stood up and grabbed her phone. “Sheesh, not even eighteen and getting kicked out of the house.”
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Riley said with a small smile.
Her comment brought me back to all the times in high school and middle school when she would kick me out of the room her and Nola were in.
She said the same thing every time she threw me out.
Since my sister, Nola, was only eleven months older than me, it had been my life goal to annoy her and Riley as much as possible. Somewhere along the way, I developed a crush on Riley. I’m not sure I even knew when. It had steadily grown on me until I recognized exactly what I felt for her.
But no matter how much I liked her in high school, I couldn’t seem to stop annoying her, and in return, she’d dished it back to me. Seeing her tease her sister in the same manner made me nostalgic for those years we’d spent together.
It was good to be back around her, but I couldn’t help but wonder how much the years had changed her, and why she’d ran.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when Wren’s footsteps had quieted from walking away from the trailer. Riley slapped her baseball cap down on the small counter next to the white sink. I still couldn't believe they lived in such a small space. I couldn't figure out where they even kept their clothes, much less their shoes or any kitchen supplies.
The trailer was spotless. Riley used to be one of the messiest people I knew—rivaled only by my sister. I guessed she’d developed some new habits since I’d last seen her.
“So, you’re raising your sister.”
Riley sighed and brushed past me to pour herself a glass of water from the sink. Even sweaty, she still smelled good. “Yes. So you found it out. My sister’s living with me.”
“You’re raising her.”
“No, I’m not.” She drank the water in one big gulp. “She’s already raised herself. I’m only here to help guide her in her life choices.”
I shook my head. Riley carried a heavy burden of responsibility on her shoulders all the time.
No matter what she was dealing with, she thought she could fix it.
If only she worked harder, it would be better.
She and Nola shared an aching responsibility to humankind. It was probably why they were such good friends. The biggest difference was Riley was more no-nonsense about it.
Nola liked to lament and talk about a problem; Riley made a to-do list on how to fix it, then she completed her task list.
I sat down in the white chair next to the small dining room table. It didn’t look any worse for wear from its crash to the ground.
“Did your mom have Wren until you became her guardian?”
Riley nodded. She never spoke about her mom. It was a closed subject. She spent most of her life with Sharon and Rob, a couple who ran a group foster home and were good to the kids that lived with them. In my opinion, it was the best thing that could have happened for Riley—getting permanently removed from her mother’s custody at eight years old. I hadn’t considered what would happen if her mother had another child. “Wren’s situation was bad?”
Riley looked at me with wide eyes. Nodding, she poured herself another glass of water then sat down across from me. “It was bad. I hadn’t realized... Mom was doing better those first few years with Wren. I think losing me was a wake-up call for her. She stayed clean for a while, then things got worse. She started dating a guy when Wren was ten. It started her down a bad spiral again. She even started dealing.”
She formed a fist and rested it against her lips, as though she were trying to force the words to stay in.
Her mom had been doing better but never tried to get her oldest daughter back. I knew that feeling of rejection would haunt Riley the rest of her life. Some people were messed up beyond belief to completely ignore their own daughter.
I reached across the table and grasped her other hand. To my surprise, she didn’t slap me away. Instead, she flipped her hand over and grasped mine in return.
“Mom’s in prison now for possession and dealing. That left Wren without a guardian.”
I nodded. “That’s where you stepped in. That must have been hard.”
“You know, I think what was the hardest is feeling like I misread a situation. I thought Mom was doing better. She really tried for Wren. Kept going to rehab. Going to meetings. She was clean for a lot of years.”
Riley shook her head as she traced the grain of the table. “She’s serving ten years right now. I wish I had realized Wren needed me sooner. I didn’t visit her very much.”
“You’re here for her now.”
Riley smiled at that. “That’s very sweet of you, but that’s the end of story time. Now you see why I can’t go back to the life I had before. I have responsibilities now.”
No, I didn’t see. I didn’t understand why becoming the guardian of her sister would cause her to
run away from everyone who loved her and cared for her.
“Whoa. Hold up. Quick recap for the slow learner here. Your mom’s in prison. You gained guardianship of Wren, and you’re living in a trailer park.”
She leaned back, bracing herself for a fight. I massaged gentle circles around her wrist until she relaxed.
I wanted to question her why she didn’t stay close to us. Instead, I asked, “How are you doing?”
Her mouth opened and closed slowly. Something that looked suspiciously like moisture gathered in her eyes.
We sat in silence for a few moments while I gently rubbed the hand I held. I didn’t know what possessed me to grab it other than I couldn’t stop myself. I’d never held Riley’s hand before—not unless it was to pull her into the pool unwillingly.
It was a nice hand. Lean, strong fingers. A firm grasp. Soft skin. Painted nails. Holding it felt natural. It also made my heart beat embarrassingly fast.
I cleared my throat, deciding to save us from the silence and my obsession with her hand. “You look tired.”
“I just went for a run; of course I look tired.” She held her leg out to the side and showcased her tennis shoe.
“Hmm, that’s not what I meant, but I’ll let it slide.”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at me. “Please tell me you’re not going to live in that single-wide. Tell me this is a joke and that you’re here today to say goodbye.”
“This is all a joke, and I’m here to say goodbye.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” She visibly relaxed.
“Just kidding.”
She sighed and jerked her hand out of my grasp. “You’re so annoying.”
“I know. But you’ll have to tell that to someone who cares. Now, do you know of any contractors that work on single-wides?” I asked as I folded my hands behind my head and relaxed in the chair.
She slapped her palm down on the tabletop. “Nate. You’re not trailer-park material. You cried when Nola and I made you sleep in the backyard in a tent by yourself.”
I frowned. “Those were extenuating circumstances!”
“You were seventeen!” she exclaimed. Her frustrated, wide-eyed look had always been one of my favorites.
“How about we stop with the personal attacks, all right?”
She smacked a palm against her forehead as she continued, “You don’t even eat with plastic silverware.”
“That’s because it’s cheap and adds to landfills.”
“You’re living on a landfill.”
“What?”
She grinned, any traces of melancholy long gone. “You better believe it. This wonderful trailerhood, where you’ve purchased a home, is built on one of the finest, dirtiest landfills.”
“Doesn’t bother me.” That was a lie. It bothered me. There were probably dead bodies in that landfill.
“Why do you want to stay so bad?”
My cheek twitched while I tried to think of a reply. “Call it morbid curiosity to find out more about you, Wren, and this charming little trailer park.”
Riley snorted then began drumming her fingers against the tabletop.
I rested my hand on top of hers again, this time to stop the incessant tapping.
“Fine,” she said as she tilted her chin up. “If you want to learn how the other side lives, I’ll be glad to show you the neighborhood. But you have to promise to only do what I tell you to. They don’t like outsiders. Deal?”
She extended her hand, and I slowly reached forward to shake it.
“Deal.”
The gleam in her eye didn’t bode well for me.
Chapter Five
Riley
Nate was confusing me.
Having him near... It was different than high school. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and neither was I.
He was upset I’d walked away. Yet he kept my secret, even without knowing the entire truth. He hadn’t told Nola yet, even though he was close with her.
I’d never been at home in the Mercier’s world. Sebastian and June Mercier, Nate’s parents, were as kind as two people could be, and I had nearly lived with them all summer long.
But I’d been born and raised in a trailer park. Even though Sharon and Rob had provided a safe home for me during middle school and high school in the foster group home, they couldn’t help me when I phased out of the system. I had to rely on myself.
When the court gave me custody of my little sister, that had been up to me.
Staying in the trailer park might seem crazy to Nate, but it was a world that I understood and could navigate.
No matter that, Wren and I were doing fine here. Not to mention, if Frank, Wren’s biological dad, saw us living in a fancy apartment or a cottage in a nicer part of town, he would probably want to be roommates.
Bless that man’s nonexistent heart, he could sniff out a penny across a continent. Frank didn’t like to work for a living. He liked to “find” money in unique, absurd, and often embarrassing ways.
I’d once seen him empty the ketchup container in a restaurant so that he wouldn’t have to buy ketchup at the grocery store.
He routinely stopped by the park to say hi to Wren and grab anything he could take. We did our best to keep him out of the trailer. We never knew what would go missing when he showed up. His birthday present to Wren was a purse his ex-girlfriend had thrown away.
The rest of the trailer park had been exposed to him, too, but everyone tolerated him for our sakes. I could barely stand the man, but he was Wren’s father, and he made an effort to say hello to her and check up on her every once in a while.
Even though I was Wren’s legal guardian, I knew how much having a parent take an interest in your life could change things.
I would have been hard-pressed to find anywhere where we would fit in as well as we did in the Burnside trailer park. It was what I knew. The trailer park neighbors had helped take care of us, providing a support system I was familiar with.
I’d rather Nate went back to his life—quietly. Leave us alone in our comfortable existence.
Unfortunately, Nate wasn’t one to handle anything quietly, which was why it concerned me that he was here.
He’d made a big enough splash in the trailer park when he’d paid Larry and Patty a large sum of money for a run-down single-wide. Wren had heard about the entire story within the five minutes she’d been home that night. Sam and Elise were happy to share their side of the story. Their side of the story involved a view through binocular lenses.
I wasn’t about to admit to trying to physically throw him out of his house. But really, I had been trying to save him from himself.
Only an idiot would pay them ten-thousand dollars cash for that trashy trailer. Didn’t he know he could have paid a fifth for that? But no, he had to come in, throwing money around, acting as though he were God’s gift to the world and was here to save me—even if it was from myself.
Well, I didn’t need a hero. I was the hero in my story. It was the way it had to be. Heroes were for fairy tales.
Getting rid of him wouldn’t be easy. It would have to be his own idea. He didn’t like to be told what to do.
What I needed to do was give him the welcome he so richly deserved.
I would be his sensei. His mentor. His yogi. I would guide him and direct him in all things trailer park related.
In other words, I was going to haze him.
I walked outside and marched across the street. The best time to start a project was right now. I was a firm believer in the philosophy of Don’t put off for tomorrow what you could do today.
Welcome to Trailerhood Initiation, Nate.
I leapt up the wooden steps and knocked loudly on the door to Nate’s single-wide.
The door opened a crack, and I saw a messy, brown-haired Nate peeking out from behind the door.
“You look terrible,” I told him cheerily since I was in such a great mood. Wren had already broken up with Mason, the boy that I didn’t like. I wasn’t o
pposed to my sister dating, but I wanted the best for her.
“Get in here,” he barked as he opened the door wide enough for me to step through.
I stepped inside and took in the single-wide. There wasn’t any furniture yet, but I made myself at home, anyway. I admired the pictures he—we—hung on the wall before I walked down the short hall that led to a bedroom.
There was an air mattress on the ground and a sleeping bag on top of that. “Oh, I see you have the deluxe adjustable firmness bed.”
He snorted from behind me. “I think you might be enjoying this too much.”
“Well, you are the boy who—“ I turned around to discover him standing directly behind me. His frame filled the doorway. One hand was grasping the door frame, putting his bicep at perfect admiring height. “You’re the boy who—who—er...“
I cleared my throat and finally dragged my eyes up to his face. He was smirking.
“You’re a bed snob,” I finally forced out. “You probably slept terrible on that air mattress. Wouldn’t you be much happier somewhere else?”
He grinned and leaned around me, grabbing his phone from the one windowsill in the room. He didn’t back out of my space. He just stood there, brushing against me as he scrolled on his phone. When he found what he was looking for, he flipped it around to show me.
My eyes scanned the screen, picking out the words in bold. “Order shipped? You bought a fancy bed for this single-wide?”
“Should be here in two days. You didn’t really think I planned on sleeping on an air mattress forever, did you? Please. I’m not Bear Grylls.”
This was so much worse than I thought. He really was planning to stay. If he was willing to buy a new mattress to make himself at home, he wasn’t looking at this like a short stay. I had to get him out.
“Why don’t you let me introduce you to the neighbors?” My voice cracked when I spoke.
“That sounds great,” he said, his chest rumbling against my arm.
I brushed past him with the urgency of a toddler about to wet their pants. Trailerhood Initiation was already backfiring. I had to get out of the small space. I had to get him outside into my territory where I had the upper hand.
Miss Trailerhood Page 4