So, I put my fake smile back on and try to woo over the people. Too much is riding on this. At what point will all this pressure cause something or someone to break?
Chapter 6
“So darling, tomorrow what shall we do with your hair?” Frank asks me affectionately later that night as Lyncoln, Gertie and I are gathered in my room.
“What did you have in mind?” I ask.
Frank and Gertie are scurrying around as usual. Lyncoln and I are sitting on the small couch in my room, me under his arm and his hand on my thigh. Frank and Gertie are being overly emotional again, like either one of them are about to burst into tears. It seems pretty usual these days. It must be the stress of the tours.
“Whatever you had in mind,” he deflects.
“Since when have you let me decide what to do with my own hair?” I joke.
“Since we are going to your hometown and I want you to feel completely comfortable,” he gestures with his hand like it should be the most obvious answer in the world.
“Okay. Um…” I think. This is the first time everyone else, my teachers, the farmers in our subdivision, everyone else, will have seen me since I left. I want to look like me, and I also want to be comfortable.
“Maybe it would help to have your options of dresses. Here is this one,” Frank holds up the first dress. It is a black long-sleeved dress with a fun cut around the neck. It is square cut around the shoulders and scoop cut around the neck giving it some extra flair. It looks fun and elegant both. Judging by the look of it, it is flowy and will fall to just above my knees. “Or this one.” He holds up the second dress which is bright red. It has an a-line cut around the neck and will be fairly tight. It looks like it falls six inches above my knees where there is an uneven and matching a-line of the hem. One of my options is relaxed but elegant, and the other is modern and sexier looking.
“Option one,” I decide. “I still want them to recognize me, so the more casual the better. I don’t want to be too flashy or showy.”
Gertie smiles. “Honey, I hate to break it to you, but you were beautiful before you came to us.”
“Yes, but more so now with your super-secret butter baths,” I laugh. “Speaking of that, when are you going to make Lyncoln take one?”
“No.” Lyncoln doesn’t even hesitate and Gertie and I are in giggles again.
“So, your hair then, darling?” Frank asks, dramatically rolling his eyes before getting us back on topic.
“It can be down. Curled or straight is up to you. My dress will be laidback, but my hair and makeup can be dressier,” I respond.
“Then Lyncoln will wear the black suit with either the skinny tie and the black and white gingham shirt or the vest and tie?” Gertie asks Frank.
Frank looks to me as if it’s up to me to decide.
“Gingham. I like him in gingham dress shirts,” I say and blush. My head is pressed up against Lyncoln’s chest muscles, and I’m glad he can’t see my face, although I know by default that he is smirking if not smiling.
“Very good choices. I think we will do long relaxed waves to your hair, add some long earrings and a fun long necklace of sorts, and we will yet again be the best dressed there,” Frank decides definitively with a hand gesture in the air. “Gertie. Shall we? 0500 hours will come quickly.”
“Yes,” Gertie agrees. Before she leaves she adds, “Try to sleep, I’m sure you are overly excited about getting to see your family tomorrow, dear.”
“Will you both be around?” I ask. “I would love to have you meet them.”
“We will be around then, darling. Anything for you,” Frank nods. He pats Lyncoln’s arm then kisses me on the forehead before following Gertie to the door.
Gertie just smiles at us affectionately looking like she is about to burst into tears again, and then they leave us right where we sit.
I pick up my iced tea off the table and take a long drink.
Lyncoln sighs, “Long day.”
“Yes. We will be totally exhausted by the end of this, I think.” I stifle a yawn.
“I think that’s the point,” Lyncoln says with a snort. “But tomorrow is Omaha. A nice respite for you in seeing new townships.”
“Yes, it is. I can’t tell you how excited I am to introduce you to my family,” I say, turning to look at him so he knows that I truly mean it.
“Other than Ashton. I met him in training,” he reminds me.
Ashton is two years older than he is, but from what Ash said when they came to Denver, Lyncoln had already been through the ranks and was a military star by that point. For the gazillionth time, Lyncoln seems way older than he really is. Age really is just a number because he has been through more life than most people ever do, so he seems way more mature. Maybe even hardened by life.
“You’ll love my parents,” I smile. “I hope they aren’t too hard on you.”
“I wish this wasn’t the first time I was meeting them,” he says, looking down as he grabs my hand, beginning to massage my palm.
“Why?” I wonder what he’s getting at. I know there’s a lot of pressure with trying to secure these votes, but he seems to thrive under pressure, much unlike myself. Seeing him nervous about something is a new development.
He takes a deep breath before looking me dead in the eyes and saying, “Because the first time I meet your dad, I will be asking for his daughter’s hand in marriage just in case we don’t see them again for a while.”
“Oh,” I almost whisper, “that.”
“You are stuck with me for life, gorgeous,” he smiles slowly. “You picked me, and now I’m not ever letting you go. I’ll eventually just drag you down that aisle if I have to.”
I snort at that thought. “You won’t have to.”
He takes that opportunity to kiss me breathless.
No matter how chaotic our lives are right now and no matter how many things go wrong, kissing him always feels right. He steadies me… when he isn’t making me feel dizzy, that is. Sure, the Culling is forcing our relationship to go at a faster pace than I would like, but Lyncoln is the only thing about the Culling that I am completely sure about, the only thing that makes sense. Would I marry him? Absolutely. I just know because of the Culling, if we win, it will be within the year.
“I can’t wait for the day I don’t have to leave your room at night,” he smiles playfully. His short, dark hair is messed up in that way that it only is after a long day or after we have a smooch fest. I absolutely love it when his hair is like this. Something about his military cut being even a little out of place makes me happy.
“Me either, although all that seems a bit scary too,” I blush as I say so honestly.
He groans. “Regs. Can we stop talking about this? We’ve been over this. Please don’t worry about it. The Culling is moving up your timetable. I get it. I’m in no rush.”
Gah! When those blue-brown eyes look at me like that, I can barely keep my brain functioning. “Thank you,” I say softly.
He smirks and playfully adds, “I’m so glad you didn’t give Trent the time of day.”
Whoa. Subject change. Marital activities to Trent? I just can’t keep up.
“Huh?” I ask confused.
“Your personality and his work well together. I don’t know what I did that first night to appeal to you, but I’m glad I got under your skin. And I’m glad he’s done vying for your heart too. He is hard to pretend to hate,” he says with a laugh.
“Jealous much?” I giggle.
“With you? Always.” He burns me with his intense gaze. It’s like I’m naked when he looks at me with those things. It makes me feel shy and uncertain and just... naked. Yep, definitely naked.
He kisses me on the forehead. “I need to let you get your sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
I grin, probably like a little kid. “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much, I’m too excited.”
“Well in that case...” Lyncoln’s lips find mine and he kisses me both thoroughly and hungrily.
It’s at least five minutes before he finally pulls himself away, muttering something about being a gentleman, leaving me wondering what it would be like for him to not be for once.
****
I fidget on the two-hour flight to Omaha wiggling my foot and tapping on the armrest. Sarge turns around and looks at me amused and gestures to my hand tapping.
Lyncoln smiles, takes my hand in his, and gives it a squeeze. “We’ll be there soon enough.”
“Sorry,” I mumble embarrassed.
I have never felt so excited. How long has it been since I’ve been home? It feels like a lifetime ago but is really just under 12 weeks. I can’t believe it. When I left the summer sun was still hot and the humidity was just starting to die down. Unlike in Galveston where they have warm temperatures year-round, since this is the middle of November already, it will be much cooler in Omaha. A lot like what it was in Denver.
Unfortunately, we will have at least a three-hour car ride to my subdivision of Omaha after our flight. We will be touring the main subdivision of Offutt first, which is where the food manufacturing plants and storage systems are. They graciously decided to host us and hold the meeting in my home subdivision of Eagle since I am from here, and they thought it would be more interesting for people at home watching.
Everywhere we go there has been a camera crew following us. Since we aren’t around for our regular interview today, they will be showing highlights from our three tours so far. So later tonight, the general population will get to see a bit of Omaha, Galveston, and Vegas through their televisions. Dougall says it’s a big deal. The entire country is excited.
What will come as a surprise to most people about what they are about to see of Omaha is that subdivisions are different here than anywhere else because of our necessity and focus on growing crops. Instead of one booming and sprawling township like Denver or Vegas with subdivisions stacked together side-by-side, almost on top of one another, Omaha is like ten small townships with one large one at the epicenter. It was planned that way, so we can farm and graze more land and not have to travel as far for supplies or school and such.
The biggest subdivision, Offutt, is where the old city of “Omaha” once was. My family travels there for supplies once or twice a year. We also had our yearly tests for school in the bigger subdivision. My own subdivision, Eagle, named after the creek that runs through it, is about 150 miles northwest of there. We are pretty much in the middle of nowhere. So not only is Omaha the least populated township, but our subdivisions serve as small, self-sufficient townships themselves. This is the closest thing we have to a “small town” like they did before Trident.
It will be fun for the Denver and Vegas people to see the country life. Marisol in the country? HA! I hope she steps in a cow-pie.
As we fly closer to Omaha, I begin to see the fields out my window, which look like squares of patchwork on a quilt. I sigh out a breath of relief.
I’m home.
I love it here. I never really appreciated its simplicity and beauty until I left. Will I be happy in Denver if I can never return here? Or will I always miss this? Is this home? Or will Denver become my new home?
Lyncoln looks over my shoulder out the window to the fields and gives me that darned half-smile.
I look at him and realize, not for the first time, that he is my home. Wherever he is, I’ll be home; I’ll have a home.
Before I know it, we are landing. I’m so used to my stomach dipping when we land and take off that I’m not even bothered. Call me a frequent flyer. The black SUVs are waiting for us and I again wonder how they got here. They must have a cargo plane fly ahead of us? I make a mental note to ask Lincoln later because now we are busy unloading.
As my heels hit the ground outside of the plane, I take a deep breath of that fresh, crisp, fall air. Home.
When Marisol and her guards aren’t looking, Henry sneaks a wink to me. He’s happy I’m home. It seems so weird that just a few weeks ago I was smooching him, and now he is sleeping with the enemy (although not literally). I just can’t get past it sometimes.
“Ready?” Lyncoln asks with a knowing smile. I can barely contain myself, so he is smiling more today by default because he knows how happy I am.
“Yes, but not for that three-hour car ride,” I whine.
The tour of Offutt is quick and harmless. I see a few people I know or my father knows and they greet me kindly and proudly. If this is how people in Offutt react to an Omaha girl making it this far in the Culling, just wait until we get to Eagle!
The three-hour car ride there drags on. I convince Sarge to play the game with me that Ashton always does. We have a contest to see who can count the most cows on the way there. I, of course, am winning. Lyncoln is rather quiet, probably nervous to meet my family.
“Cat got your tongue?” I joke.
“No,” he half-smiles.
I laugh nervously. “Have you decided that you’ll never live here yet?”
“Actually, the opposite. It’s so quiet and peaceful here,” he says honestly. “I will confess that the concept of raising cattle seems a bit weird to me though.”
That makes me snort. “It’s not so bad, they’re just big-hoofed babies.”
Jamie pipes up from behind us, asking me questions about how many cows, sheep, and poultry my family raises, and what crops we grow. I’m glad to explain it as a way to pass the time. I hold on to Lyncoln’s knee as we continue driving into no man’s land.
When we finally turn onto the market street of Eagle, my breath catches with what I see. People are everywhere. And not only that, but they are holding up signs that say, “Vote for Reagan and Lyncoln”. Granted we saw some of that in Vegas and Galveston, but almost every person has a little flag or sign they are waving. And there are wayyy too many people for this to be just the population of Eagle. This has to be close to all of Omaha.
With the other townships, the people were already in the conference center when we arrived. Not here. In true Omaha fashion, they have decided to greet everyone. Marisol and Henry are the first out and the crowd claps. They smile and wave as they are ushered to wherever we are going to be speaking. Next are Elizabeth and Maverick, who get the same response. Then it’s Attie and Knox. I find I’m shaking with nervousness for it to be our turn.
Here we go.
“Ready, Ms. Scott?” Sarge grins. “I think they’re waiting for you.” He gets out to open my door.
My first heel is barely on the ground before the crowd explodes into cheers. The whoops and hollers are so loud I can’t even think straight. I find Lyncoln’s arm and see his huge smile at the crowd as the crowd starts to chant, “Rea-gan, Rea-gan, Rea-gan,” over and over and over. I smile and wave but stick closely to Lyncoln, unsure to do with all this attention.
We are apparently giving our speeches outdoors. They have a lovely stage set up about five blocks down. There are people lining the walkway from the stage to the street where we were dropped off, and it makes me proud to see the type of greeting Omaha gave all the contestants, not just me. I have chills because of how awesome it is. And loud. They are so dang loud.
As we almost get there, though admittedly it takes us forever because I give hugs and high fives the whole way, someone jumps out into the middle of the street. A guard is about to tell him to move, but I would recognize that tall, gangly man anywhere. That and he has the same exact hazel eyes I do.
I let go of Lyncoln and run, in my heels, to my brother. I’m sure somewhere Dougall is cringing at my un-ladylikeness, but I just don’t care.
Ashton scoops me up and twirls me in a hug, saying in my ear, “Welcome home, brat.”
Choking back tears, I respond with, “It’s good to see you too, fart-face.”
As he puts me down, off to the side I see my mom and dad. I can’t resist giving them hugs. Sarge and Jamie give me a hard time, telling me to keep moving and that I’m delaying things. Out of the corner of my eye I see Lyncoln shaking my mom and dad’s
hands. Oops. I guess I didn’t really properly introduce them, but it’s so loud I’m not sure it would do much good anyway.
What feels like hours later, we finally make it up to the stage. From the crabby look and glare Marisol is giving me, she doesn’t like this at all. Not even a little bit.
Poor thing. Ha. Ha, Ha. Ha-de-ha-ha!
Dougall stands and does the usual of thanking Omaha for their hospitality and such. It’s then our turns as we give our usual speeches. Elizabeth and Maverick say something similar each time, as do Marisol and Henry. Attie and Knox like to give a different speech each time, and we do the same. Although Dougall made us write down all our speeches in advance, once we get somewhere and in the groove, I almost always deviate from what is written down. Sometimes what I say and what I planned to say are completely different, much to Dougall’s dismay.
Attie gives a charming speech saying that she is touched by their welcome and the crowd cheers louder for them than they have for the other two. It’s our turn next. We go last since it’s my home township. When Dougall introduces us, the crowd goes nuts like they did when we arrived.
Knowing I go first, I have a hard time not crying. I look to the crowd smiling, and in the way back find Frank and Gertie in the mix of people. They are, of course, cheering just as loudly as the Omaha people. I give them a wave even though they probably have no idea I’m waving to them. The crowd keeps going, and the longer they go, the more likely I am to lose it.
I nod my head in thanks and try to keep it together, but my eyes are burning. Lyncoln is beside me and gives me a kiss on the forehead in support, which makes the crowd go even crazier. As I wipe a tear away and move to speak into the microphone, the crowd quiets down.
I take in the view of the horizon, the rolling fields in the background and the smell of grass and dirt. There isn’t anything more beautiful than this place right here.
When they are finally quiet enough for me to begin, I choke back the rest of the tears threatening to disturb me and begin by saying, “It’s good to be home.”
The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 9