by Casey Peeler
Chapter 2
Cadence
“Cadence.” I hear my mom’s voice as she knocks on the door. I pull the covers over my head. “Cade. It’s time to get up,” she says. I hear my door creak open and know I have no choice. It’s time to face reality. My life, as I know it, is over. Feeling a dip in the bed, I wait to hear what she has to say next.
“Honey, I hate this as much as you do, but it’s what’s best for us. Gran is willing to let us stay with her until we can get on our feet. Who knows maybe you’ll even like it there,” she says as she pulls the covers back. I pull my pillow on top of my head to keep out the light. “Seriously, Cadence. We don’t have much time. The moving crew will be here soon.” Knowing there are only a few items left to move, I get out of bed. “That’s my girl. Come on. Once they finish up, we’ll be on our way.”
I put on something fashionable yet comfortable for our ten-hour ride to Delight. Pulling the covers off my bed, I quickly fold the comforter and say goodbye to my bed. I might have to say goodbye to it, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving my Lilly Pulitzer comforter. That’s out!
Walking toward the foyer, Mom stares at me. “What?” I ask.
“You know we can buy a new one,” she says.
“Yeah, but this is mine, and I’m not leaving it,” I say.
She shrugs her shoulders, and brushes it off. We take the remainder of our personal items and place them in the Suburban. Thankfully, Mom has shipped most of our clothes and valuables. We are taking a final look around the apartment when the movers arrive. Not only is Mom selling the apartment, she’s selling all the furniture. She said Gran has everything we need for now so it’s not worth taking it with us. Gran’s idea of décor and this place are polar opposites so I think Mom is crazy for not wanting to keep our stuff. When I pushed her to keep some of it, she grumbled something about not wanting any of his crap as a reminder. It all just sucks and Gran’s house is a time warp to the sixties with god-awful country flair. It would be nice to have some pieces to remind me of home.
After the trucks are packed with the rest of our stuff, we decide to stop by my favorite bakery for a flavored coffee and freshly baked croissant for breakfast. As Mom drives out of the city, I quietly eat my breakfast and we make small talk. After we merge onto the interstate, she cranks up the radio and sets the cruise control. I text Lauren until she has to leave for the studio, and wish I was going with her.
Barrick
I roll out of bed before the rooster crows, slide on my worn out jeans and shirt, and then grab my boots and head toward the kitchen. Setting my boots by my chair, I open the refrigerator and grab the orange juice and drink straight from the carton.
“Barrick! You know better,” Mama says as she hands me a glass.
“Sorry, but it tastes better this way,” I admit.
“You sure it doesn’t have to do with not wanting to do the dishes?” I shrug my shoulders. “What time you think you’ll be home tonight?” she asks as she twists her hair into a funky knot on the top of her head.
“Probably four. Ms. Brown said she wanted to stop a little early today.”
“Are you serious? That doesn’t sound like her,” Mama says.
“Yeah she’s got family comin’ into town.” Mama doesn’t say anything, but I can tell by her stance that she’s thinking about something. I finish my juice and slide on my boots. I slide my worn out ball cap on my head, pick up my truck keys, and grab a fried apple pie on the way out the door.
Arriving at the Brown’s farm, I pull my truck alongside the barn and notice the lights are on. Walking inside, I see Ms. Brown filling the feed buckets for the horses.
“Mornin’ Ms. Brown,” I say.
She stops and turns to me. “Boy, I’ve told you to quit calling me that! It’s Mae Ellen or Mae, but not Ms. Brown. Now, grab that feed and get moving. We got a lot to do today, and not a lot of time.”
“Yes Ms. Mae,” I say.
“That’s better,” she says as she continues to work.
I spend most of the morning with the dairy cows. I swear I’ve seen more cow milk in the past two months than in my entire life. Who would have thought that a farm in little old Delight could be such an asset to our county and the foothills of North Carolina? When Mr. Brown passed away three years ago, my older brother, Bo, helped Ms. Mae. Now that he is overseas with the Marines, she asked if I’d like to help. I had no idea what this job actually entailed.
After lunch Ms. Mae asks me to do a few things out of the ordinary. This woman’s got me carrying boxes, mopping, and even wants me to go to the grocery store for her. The only time she’s ever asked me for help inside was to fix a broken door handle. I don’t ask any questions, I say “Yes ma’am” as she gives me each task. She must really be excited about her family coming to town.
As I set the groceries on the table, I hear her holler for me to come help her upstairs. When I make my way into the room, I hurry a little bit more when I realize she’s struggling to move a dresser. I quickly grab the other side, and we both move it with ease.
“’nything else Ms. Mae?” I question.
“Nah, I’ve just got to make the beds and I think I’m about finished. You’ve been such a big help ‘round here. Thank you.”
“No problem,” I say as I help her neatly stack boxes in the corner of the room.
Glancing at her watch, she informs me it’s a little after three. “Go ahead and call it an early day Barrick. I’m going to finish up here and then relax a little bit.”
“You sure?” I question.
“Yeah, just be here at normal time tomorrow.”