by Sosie Frost
As much as I hated to see it end, I couldn’t let anyone hurt them more than we’d hurt ourselves.
So I said it.
“I think you’re all idiots for refusing to sell the farm.”
They hadn’t expected that. Least of all Julian.
Varius stopped Cassi before she laid another smack to the back of my head. Wouldn’t have minded the concussion. Might’ve cleared some fogginess and fatigue out of my mind until my dinner took care of the rest.
“Sell the farm?” Julian took offense, but at least it wasn’t a swing. “You’re the one so fucking attached to the farm that I thought I’d find you out humping the barn on a Saturday night.”
“Never cared for the splinters,” I said.
Varius released Cassi’s hand. She delivered her intended blow.
“You better be joking about this,” she said. “Or, so help me God, Quint Payne, I’mma take you out into the fields and plant you there myself.”
Wasn’t sure Duke would like me sprouting out of his new lands.
“Do you guys have any idea how much money we can make?” I asked. “You’ve got so many people to take care of. The extra cash could solve a shit-ton of problems.”
“You’re just looking to earn some money?” Julian said.
“Yeah.”
“Know how you can get some?” He pointed to the fields. “By working all fucking day. Planting corn. Maybe some cucumbers and zucchinis. Couple varieties of lettuce. We could clear some more space and set up that Apple Orchard that Dad always talked about.”
Sure. And if we had the right equipment, we could double our production. And once we got some revenue, we’d build the new irrigation system. And after we automated the fields, we’d hire extra help.
“If wishes were horses, we’d have a herd out back instead of an aggravated Alpaca wearing a sundress,” I said. “You know as well as I do that a couple ears of corn aren’t gonna help.”
“Well, it’s something,” Jules said. “And if that’s what we gotta do, so be it. Doesn’t matter what the harvest looks like. This is our land. Our job. This is what we’re gonna do.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes.”
I wouldn’t be able to convince Julian to sell the farm when he was sentimental about the fucking thing. To him, life only ever needed a fresh coat of paint and a little hard work. Nothing seemed impossible.
Playing football all those years had only hurt his back, not his head, but maybe he had been clocked one time too many. His loyalty to the farm clouded his judgment.
And Duke would take advantage of that.
I finished the chicken and threw the bone on the plate. Cassi immediately warmed another piece for me. How the fuck did she know how much I’d eaten today? I’d promised her I’d keep a journal, but I’d only managed two entries before the rest turned into doodles of barnyard animals in funny hats and funnier pornographic positions.
At least she’d tried.
It was more than I could say I did for my own health, but at least I couldn’t deny that I did all I could to protect the family.
If money didn’t convince them, maybe the truth would.
“The farmer who sold us Alicia is pissed,” I said. “He thought he was only giving us one animal. Didn’t realize she was pregnant. He thinks he has a claim on Albert.”
Julian laughed. “Fine by me. We’ll send them both back.”
Cassi gasped. “Absolutely not! Alicia is a part of the family.”
Marius lifted his pant leg. His prosthetic was covered in more bite marks than sequins.
“We’ll see if you feel the same way after she bites through your leg,” he said.
“She’s tried to eat my hair, the church’s sound equipment, and Tabby,” she said. “Doesn’t matter. Do you think that old farmer would take care of her like we can? She’s very particular about her straw hats—and she really only prefers to wear pastels now.”
I nodded. “See? The little demon grew on us. But that farmer might file a lawsuit. It’ll get messy.”
Cassi groaned. “And I just got Albert a baby sailor suit.”
Varius was always the voice of reason, even when God had abandoned us in the face of the damned alpaca.
“We’re all…fond…of Alicia,” he said. “But what does she have to do with selling the farm?”
“It’s not just the alpaca,” I said. “It’s also the geese.”
Marius pushed away from the table. A dozen sequins followed in his wake—his own brand of testosterone fueled pixy dust.
“Jesus Christ,” Marius said. “If I hear one more person bitching about the damned geese, I’m gonna shoot the birds myself and promise every citizen a fucking Christmas dinner.”
“There’s a campaign slogan,” Tidus snickered. “A goose in every pot, birdshot in every bite.”
“They’re accusing Gretchen of deliberately returning the geese to Butterpond,” Marius said. “But she’s got no control over where those assholes land. She scares them out of town, then they return to shit all over our streets again. It’s the town’s damned fault for wanting a nonlethal solution when all we need is a grenade and a former sailor with good aim. Don’t need two legs to lob explosives at those little bastards.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Desmond will insist she’s corrupt and stealing taxpayer dollars. You’ll lose the election.”
Marius clasped his hands together in mock prayer. “Then someone above finally heard my prayers. Who the hell cares if I lose the election?”
Cassi did.
A lot.
“You know you’re good for the job,” she said.
Marius laughed. “Nobody is good for that job. Butterpond is fucking insane. I wouldn’t be the mayor of the town, I’d be warden of the asylum.”
“And who better to lead them?” I said.
“Anyone with access to sedatives and straitjackets.”
Tidus snapped his fingers. “I got a guy who could cut you a good deal on some benzos and a girl who owns her fair share of restraints.” He paused. “Think it’d matter if we just collared the townsfolk, or should we order the spreader bars too?”
Marius grimaced. “All I want is to get the bar reopened, not start opium dens.”
“All the more reason to take this seriously,” I said. “If we don’t do something, the whole town is gonna turn on Gretchen.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Marius said.
“And you.” I pointed my piece of chicken at Tidus. “You know as well as I do Honey should take that job.”
My brother flipped me off. “Hell no.”
“Think of the money.”
“Think of the Barlows.”
I was.
Too much.
“It’s a good opportunity,” I said.
“No. It’s a great opportunity for her…” Tidus scowled. “And an even better opportunity for the Barlows to steal her recipes and piggyback off her success. Her food means the world to her. Hell, I’m surprised she’s curling up next to me at night and not straddling a damned brisket. She won’t sell out.”
“What about the stable hours?” I asked. “The money? A chance for you to stay out of trouble?”
Tidus never hid from his past, but he was the only man I knew who could turn his shame into a source of pride.
“If I’m gonna get into trouble, it’ll be on my terms, not because I got into bed with a Barlow.”
How was it my half-broken, recovering addict of a brother had better sense than I did?
Tidus called to Cassi, and she retrieved a can of Coconut La Croix from the fridge—the worst flavor and the closest approximation Tidus could get to the bottom barrel bitter-ass alcohol he used to drink. He shot it like whiskey and winced.
Anything to keep him out of the gutter.
“The last thing I need is for some Barlow to spit in my face and call it a gift,” he said.
I’d had a Barlow sit on my face and it was Heav
en. But I understood his reluctance. Didn’t make a difference though. I had to convince them.
But Cassi stared at me, chewing on her bottom lip as she contemplated whether I’d had enough carbs to justify the amount of insulin I’d calculated. She rested an apple before me and ordered me to eat.
“Why are you suddenly so concerned about alpacas and geese and the election and jobs with the Barlows?”
I hated to mention it, if only because my baby sister had enough stress in her life picking musicians, fighting with florists, and tasting cakes.
“Because I want you to have a nice wedding, Sassy,” I said. “If we sell the farm, I got a feeling…” I paused. “You’ll have enough money to have a dream ceremony anywhere you want.”
Cassi held a slice of apple between her teeth and enjoyed that single bite of sweet as her only allotted amount of carbs for the day. She didn’t care about her blood glucose as much as fitting into a rather form-fitting and sophisticated wedding gown.
“I’ve decided…I want the wedding on the farm,” she said. “It’d be nice if we don’t sell it before I walk down the aisle.”
“You wanted more than a farm wedding,” I said. “You kept talking about champagne and roses and dance floors.”
Julian kicked me under the table. “She also mentioned bowties and tails and top hats. If she wants the wedding on the farm, for Christ’s sake man, let her have the barn.”
Cassi offered him a sly arch of her eyebrow. “Oh, I’m getting my tails. And you guys will stay in your tuxedos. No exceptions. But, what I want more than you guys looking well-groomed and civilized for one night, is just to be married while my family is there to celebrate with me.” The bridezilla focused her gaze on me. “So, spill it, Quint. What is really going on? Why would you ever want to sell the farm?”
My brothers stayed silent, awaiting my answer.
What the hell was I supposed to say?
They wanted the truth? Fine.
Maybe they could figure out how the fuck to fix this.
“Duke Barlow approached me a few weeks ago,” I said. “He convinced me it’d be in our best interests to sell.”
Tidus had a preferred system of conflict resolution which had once included a variety of vices no longer available to him. He guzzled the rest of his La Croix with a sneer and pitched the can into the sink.
“He’s fucking blackmailing us?” Tidus swore. “Christ. Maybe I oughta get Spence to light some real fireworks—but I’ll shove them in an entirely different type of dumpster. Lit end first.”
Julian maintained his composure with only a clenched fist. “And why the hell would you agree to help Duke?”
“Because he offered good money,” I said. “And a functioning bank account seemed a better deal than ruining everyone’s lives.”
“And you think that Duke Barlow has the power to ruin our lives?” Cassi asked.
“He threatened it.” It hadn’t been my proudest moment, but what did I need with self-respect as long as I had a happy family? “It’s more than just the animals and the job. He didn’t say what he had on the preacher, but it seemed important that I take Duke seriously.”
“He threatened V?” Cassi asked.
Varius had seen enough shit and stared deep enough into that black void that nothing could intimidate him anymore.
But that didn’t extend to Glory.
And even he paused.
“I know what it is,” he said.
Marius shook his head. “What’s he know? That Glory was a stripper?”
“No.” Varius exhaled. “Glory is pregnant.”
News like that could drop a man onto his ass.
The minister knocked up his girlfriend?
My brothers silenced, but Cassi’s delighted squeal echoed over the farm.
“Ohmygosh!” My sister dove over Varius and wrapped him in a hug so tight she’d squeeze the Holy Spirit right out of him. Fortunately, she pushed him away long enough to begin scolding. “You’re having a baby and you didn’t tell us?”
“You’re having a baby, and you told Duke Barlow?” Tidus asked.
Varius accepted our congratulations with more pride than a preacher in his predicament should have shared.
“I’m not sure how he found out,” he said. “But we only meant to keep the news secret until we eloped.”
The revelations would stroke Cassi out. She alternated between joy and rage, hugs and chastisement.
“You’re getting married? When? How?”
“As soon as possible.” Varius sunk into a chair with a relieved sigh. My brother was getting better at keeping life-altering secrets, though he wasn’t the type to enjoy the deception. “Glory worried about what the congregation would think. It was her decision to elope, and then we planned to reveal the good news to everyone.” He squeezed Cassi’s hand. “Besides, the last thing I wanted to do was overshadow my little sister’s big day with a marriage of my own.”
Cassi wouldn’t forgive him until she held her newest niece or nephew in her arms.
“I wish you had come to us,” she said. “We would’ve helped.”
“Didn’t think I needed any help.” He smirked. “Got into trouble on our own.”
“Once again.” Tidus pushed away from the table with a victorious grin. “I’m the good Payne. Let it be known that I haven’t been jailed or knocked anyone up this summer.”
Julian ignored him. “But if Duke knows this information, and he’s threatening to reveal it to the church…”
“Let him,” Varius said.
“What about your reputation?”
The preacher got a kick out of that. “What reputation? I’m already the minister who abandoned his congregation for two years only to come crawling back. They forgave me then; they’ll forgive me now.” He paused. “In time. But a baby is a blessing, not blackmail. I won’t let anyone shame me for creating a miracle with the woman I love.”
I sighed. Wasn’t sure if I admired my family or simply envied their naïveté.
“Are you sure you want to fight him on this?” I asked.
Julian spoke for everyone. “Yes.”
“But why?”
Cassi nudged me. “You should know, Quint. You’re the one who’s always saying family first. You kept us together this whole time. Without you, we would have fallen apart long ago. I’d be off in Ironfield, without Rem or the kids. Julian would have sold this place…with Varius still in the basement. Marius wouldn’t have recovered after the accident. Tidus would be…”
He answered for her. “Probably dead.”
“We have a good reason for wanting to keep this farm,” she said. “And that reason is you.”
Julian stared at me, and I did all I could to avoid his gaze. “So, if Duke’s got dirt on all of us…what’s he got on you?”
Nothing I wanted to admit.
Not because they’d be betrayed or disappointed, but because it hurt too goddamned much.
I would’ve stayed quiet too, but they still didn’t understand. If they really wanted to know who’d fucked up their lives and cost them a happy little home, the least I could do was be honest.
“Duke told me to stop seeing Lady,” I said.
Shock.
Horror.
Then silence.
My family went catatonic save for Tidus who cackled in delight.
“Oh, this really is better than any drug,” he said. “Son of a bitch, Quint. You fell for the wrong pussy.”
Cassi shushed him and threatened to shove a paper towel down his gullet.
I tensed, waiting to see where’d she’d stuff the rest of the roll in me.
“You’re…dating Lady Barlow?” she whispered.
“I don’t really date.”
Marius frowned. “You’re fucking Lady Barlow?”
The insult ripped through me. “It was more than that.”
“For…for how long?” Cassi asked.
“All summer.”
I hit the deck, but Cassi
plopped into her own chair and fanned her face.
“All these secrets are getting a little overwhelming,” she said. “How…how did this happen?”
Varius’s own curiosity piqued. The preacher narrowed his eyes over me. “When was the last time you had a relationship that lasted longer than one night?”
“Please.” I snorted. “My relationships last one hour.”
Julian rubbed his face. “And so you decided to share your talents with a Barlow?”
Tidus hadn’t stopped laughing. “Not just any Barlow…but the innocent, wholesome virgin. What was your plan, Casanova? Get revenge on Duke by popping her cherry?”
I stood. The chair flew back, but Tidus was never one to duck from a punch.
“I’d never fucking hurt her like that—but you? Give me a reason.”
“Didn’t mean to insult your little Ladybug.” Tidus shrugged. “I’m surprised you’d be that goddamned heartless to get your kicks with the town’s perfect angel.”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh. Didn’t know Lady was that easy.”
It wasn’t often that I let myself get angry.
Didn’t like how it felt. Hated how it blurred my vision and clouded my judgment. It racked my bones and turned my blood to acid. I tensed, and my jaw cracked.
Lady wasn’t easy.
And I hadn’t manipulated or abused or destroyed anything about her. She was still good and pure and amazingly divine.
What she’d given me was a gift. And I’d squandered it.
And I wasn’t pissed at Tidus.
I hated myself for losing her.
“Yeah, I get it,” I said. “It’s what you’re all thinking. Lady must be a slut because she slept with me. Or I must be some drunken man whore looking to score. After all, I’ve been jumping from bed-to-bed, bar-to-bar. What else could I be except a fucking womanizer?”
Julian never tolerated bullshit. “Well, you’ve been acting like a goddamned idiot this past year, so you tell us what we should be thinking.”
“Nothing,” I said. “Because you should’ve minded your own business.”
“And let you destroy yourself?”
“I was fine. Didn’t need any help.” I held my arms out. “Yeah. I was out drinking. Partying. Having fun.”