Chapter 14 – Overcoming Fear

Dakota joined her son, who was leaning against the railing staring at the horses grazing in the pasture. “Beautiful aren’t they?”

Orion grunted, turning away.

“What’s wrong? If it’s the ranch…your grandparents will understand if you don’t want to take over the ranch….”

“It isn’t that,” he snapped. “I’m sorry,” mumbled at the stricken expression his outburst caused.

“Then what is it?” Dakota asked after a moment of silence.

Shaking his head, Orion shrugged “nothing,” he mumbled. A light touch on his shoulder kept him from walking away. “You know I love this ranch. I just don’t …”

“Want to run it?” She gave him a knowing smile “your mother and I didn’t either. Not at first.”

“Then why?” He flapped his hand as words failed him.

“Because I have such wonderful memories of growing up here. Riding horses.” Her eyes had a far away hazy look “your grandparents were married right over there,” she pointed in the direction where an arbor once stood. “This ranch has been in Waylon’s family for generations. I just couldn’t let that history go.”

“So you gave up your dreams to run the ranch,” he said.

“I didn’t give up anything,” she corrected him. “Your mother and I love it here. This is where we raised our beautiful son.”

“Mom,” he cried, his cheeks burning.

“But you don’t have to make the same choices we did,” she continued “if you want to become an artist and travel the world don’t feel like you have to stay here.”

“Mom…I don’t know what to say,” his voice broke as tears filled his eyes.

“You’re gonna make me cry,” Dakota said, wrapping her arms around him. “Now we won’t have any more moping, right?”

Rolling his eyes he shook his “I wasn’t moping because of the ranch. You and mom always made it clear you didn’t expect me to take over the ranch unless I wanted to.”

“Then why?”

Looking into her confused face he sighed. “I think I’m in love.”

“Oh,” she gasped, “the girl in the sketches?”

Nodding he shivered a little “I don’t think it’ll work out.”

“Why not?” she asked “any girl would be happy to have someone like you.”

“I’m a coward,” he cried, kicking at the fence post.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” she demanded, sounding like she was going to fight anyone who dared believe it.

“I’ve been hiding out here,” he cried, letting out weeks of frustration, “I haven’t been able to paint or draw or anything since”

“I don’t understand,” she said “what happened?”

With her prompting him, Orion found himself opening up. “So you see why I can’t go back to the beach.”

“No, I don’t see why,”: she said, “you need to go back.”

“But what if he’s there?” .

”Do you like this girl?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he said with conviction.

“Then you have to go back,” she said as equally confident “don’t let her brother scare you away from something you want.”

***

Birds chirping outside his window woke Orion early the next morning. Groaning he pulled his pillow tight around his ears but the damage was done. He was awake. The rising sun was peaking through his window shades. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up none too pleased to be awake.

Since he couldn’t sleep he threw on his clothes and gathered his supplies. So deep in thought, he didn’t know where he was going until he was at the beach. The wind blowing through his hair, the rising sun shimmering on the rippling waves of the water’s surface.

Orion inhaled deeply letting the cool morning air calm his nerves. How long has it been? Weeks? Months? All he knew was that this felt like coming home.

Sitting on the damp sand Orion pulled out his sketch pad and began drawing. After several minutes he stared down at the face he’d been drawing and smiled. His fingers traced the lines of her lips and the graceful curve of her neck. “Stella,” he murmured.

Blinking back tears, he hastily slapped the sketch pad closed. He’d seen her a hundred times in his dreams. He could probably draw her with his eyes shut. But it wasn’t until he’d returned to the beach that he’d been able to draw her or anything at all.

He hung his head. He’d made a promise. A promise he meant to keep even if he never saw her again. He’d made a promise to never draw her again unless she asked him to. And he’d already broken it.

***

Stella jogged up to the beach. She’d kept telling herself she’d go a different route but each morning she always ran past the beach. Today she was sure it wouldn’t be any different than any other day. Her eyes scanned the beach. A couple of fishermen dotted the shoreline. She smiled at an elderly couple walking hand in hand like a couple of love birds.

She scanned the beach for her young artist. A tiny frustrated sigh escaped her as she turned away knowing he wasn’t there…again.

When would she learn? Fairy tales aren’t real and happy ever afters don’t exist.

She was an idiot who believed in both. Her grandmother would call her a silly goose for coming here hoping to find him here. Maybe she was but her instinct told her something happened to cause him to stop coming here.

That was her heart speaking to her. She of all people should know her heart could be wrong. It was wrong before. It could be wrong again. Her brain was telling her that this was Orion’s way of telling her he wasn’t interested in her.

But could someone draw her with such depth and insight without liking her? She didn’t think so.

Lost in her thoughts she drifted onto the beach, drawn to the water like a moth to the light.

***

Orion scrambled to his feet, scattering his pencils and sketches around his feet. “Stella,” he breathed her name as if it were something sacred. She didn’t seem to see or hear him so he tried again. “Stel…la,” this time she looked up.

He couldn’t read her expression. Was she mad? Glad? Surprised? Revolted?

Scratching his chin he half wished he had kept quiet. “I..I..I,” stammered his tongue growing to three times its size “sssorry.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he tried to shrink and disappear.

As Orion turned slowly away, Stella seemed to wake up from her trance. “Is that it?” she cried “you disappear for weeks and all you can say is, you’re sorry.”

He turned to face her. His heavenly vision was glaring at him as if he were a condemned man sentenced to hell. “I … I … I thththought … that’s …. Wwwhat ….you you …. Wwwwanted.” He stammered the words out.

Her jaw dropped as she took in his words. “What gave you that idea?”

A crease formed between Orion’s eyes “diddiddin’t your brother tell you?”

“Tell me what,” she demanded as she crossed her arms in front of her.

Orion gulped at her commanding presence. “He … he … told me to leave yyyou alone.”

“He what,” she cried, her eyes seeming to smolder with an inner fire.

Without thinking Orion glanced at his sketch pad itching to capture phoenix as it rose.

Following his gaze, Stella’s eyes focused on the half open sketch pad. “Is that me?” she asked, her voice losing some of its venom.

Moaning Orion reached for the offending sketch but it slipped from his fingers just as they made contact. Swallowing hard he nodded.

Stella stared at herself, a soft smile crinkling the corners of her eyes “its beautiful.”

“I … “ he swallowed hard, forcing the words out “I’m sorry.”

Looking up, confusion clouding her eyes “for what?”

“My … my …” he stared at his feet unable to see the disappointment in her eyes “promise….”

“Oh,” she murmured, “that’s alright.”

Blinking as her words seeped into his beleaguered brain. “You’re not mad?”

“Oh I’m mad,” she declared, clutching the sketch to her chest. Either his yelp or downcast face registered, she added “just not at you.”

Her words did little to reassure Orion “okay,” he mumbled as he dropped to his knees and started to cram his things into satchel.

“Here,” she dropped down beside him, “let me help.” Her hands softly reached out to his stalling him “I really liked the sketch. Can I have it?”

“Really?”

Nodding, Stella smiled “I love it. I look at the other drawings all the time but this one is my favorite.”

“But I broke my promise,” his stammering wasn’t quite as pronounced now.

“I’m glad you did,” she said.

“Uh,” he stared at her like he didn’t understand what she said.

“I love the way you draw me,” she said, her cheeks turning a slight pink. “I mean,” she pressed her lips together as she seemed to gather her courage “will you go out with me?”

Orion’s mouth dropped “on a date?”

“Yes,” she let out a pent up laugh, “a date. Dinner at the diner tomorrow at six.”

“Alright,” Orion grinned after her as she walked away carrying his sketch pad with her. He’d have to get another one but that didn’t matter. He had a date. A date. The kid voted most likely to be a virgin for life.

***

By the time Stella made it home she had worked herself up to a full head of steam. “Fox,” she yelled as soon as she stepped inside the house, the door slamming behind her.

Her parents looked up from their spots on the sofa. “What’s wrong?” they asked together.

Ignoring their question she demanded “is he home?”

“He’s getting ready to go to the shelter,” her father said.

“Well he’s going to be late,” she snapped, stomping up the stairs.

A moment later they heard their son’s bedroom door open and bang shot.

“Fox who the hell gave you the right to interfere in my life,” she demanded.

Shrugging into his shirt Fox glared at her. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

“I’ll knock when you respect my privacy,” she shouted.

“What do you call barging into my room without knocking,” he made frustrated hand motions towards the door. “What if I didn’t have any clothes on?”

“Do I look like I care?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“I don’t have time for this,” he tried to step around her, “I’m going to be late.”

Barricading the door with her body she said “you’re not going to go anywhere until you tell me what you said to Orion.”

“Who?” he asked, giving her a blank look.

“So you just go around threatening people on the beach you don’t know,” she said.

Her accusatory tone and words grated on his nerves. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, trying once more to get around her. “I really have to go. Can’t we talk about this later?”

“No we can’t talk about it later,” she said, deflecting his attempts to get around her. “Orion is a really sweet guy. Why did you tell him to leave me alone?”

“You mean the artist?” he asked, taking a step back. “You really like him.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

Fox ran a hand through his hair. “You never mentioned him before and when I saw you talking on the beach it looked like you wanted him to leave you alone.” He shrugged not knowing what else to say.

“So you thought it was your brotherly duty to warn him off,” she said.

“Someone has to look out for you,” he said.

“I can look out for myself,” she said, her chin jutting out giving her a determined look.

“I’m sorry,” Fox sighed. “would it help if I apologize?”

“No,” she cried, “at least not yet. Wait until we get to know each other.”

“So I must not have done a very good job of scaring him off,” Fox grinned at her.

“Lucky for you,” she said, not yet willing to let him off the hook. “Just wait until you meet someone.”

“Not likely,” he murmured.

“You will,” she insisted “if you ever stop spending all your time volunteering and working.”

“I do more than that,” he said

“Spying on me doesn’t count,” she said “now go before you’re late.” She stepped aside to let him pass.

He stopped beside her “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she said “but I don’t need you fighting my battles.”

“I know but old habits die hard,” he said “I’ve been fighting your battles since Johnny pushed you in the mud in the first grade.”

“Maybe one day I’ll return the favor,” Stella said as he walked past her.

Fox stopped for a second, a moment of vulnerability in his eyes. “Yeah that’ll be the day.”

She watched him wondering what that look was about. Perhaps it was time for her to do spying on her own.

Chapter 13 – Big Brother Mode

Sep12

Fox watched his sister as she joined a young, blond man on the beach, well boy. He didn’t look much more than eighteen or twenty. He wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying but whatever it was had made the boy nervous. Fox had to move to keep from being seen when they moved towards him.

He strained to see what the boy had tried to throw away and Stella had stopped him. Now he had another mystery to figure out. Who was the boy and what had he caught Stella doing?

Of course he could confront his sister; however she’d accuse him of being overprotective and nosey. She’d be right too, after all he had followed her here just because she missed their family movie night two weeks in a row and refused to say why or where she was going.

Has she gotten a new boyfriend? Glancing at the couple talking, Fox frowned, the boy didn’t look like someone Stella would be interested in but then again she had been with her ex fiance since they had been kids. What did he know of her likes and dislikes?

Leaning against the post, he was tempted to just walk away and give Stella her privacy. But he couldn’t, at least not until he knew who the boy was. It was his duty as the older brother to watch out for his little sister. Someone had to make sure she didn’t get hurt.

His eyes wandered to the shoreline, the lake was calm and the first stars seemed to be shimmering on the surface of the water. Beautiful. A perfect setting for a date.

His thoughts went to Rose, the new volunteer at the shelter. He didn’t expect her to come back. She wasn’t the typical volunteer. Most spoiled rich kids only came to the shelter as part of their mandatory community service. Not Rose. She came because… he felt his cheeks flush with heat. Was it too much to hope she came because of him?

Shaking his head he brought his mind back to the present. It didn’t matter why she was there. Rose was a spoiled naive young woman who didn’t know anything of the hardships of the world. Much like his sister.

His eyes followed his sister as she strode swiftly away carrying what he could only describe as a sketchbook. The boy she’d been talking to was watching her as well like a love sick puppy.

Stepping around the post, Fox decided now was as good as any other to confront the boy.

***

“I want to talk to you,” Fox said, coming up behind the boy.

The boy jumped letting out a small gasp that was almost a squeak. He turned wide startled eyes “who who are yyyou,” he stammered.

Jerking his chin the direction that Stella had gone in, “I’m Fox, Stella’s brother. Her older brother,” he said, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Oh,” the boy’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

Flexing his muscles Fox asked “now that you know who I am, why don’t you tell me who you are?”

“Me,” he squeaked.

“Yeah you,” Fox smirked like a cat playing with his prey.

“Orororion,” he stammered, swallowing hard.

Casually he leaned against a post silently observing the boy. “How long have you been seeing my sister?”

Orion frowned “I…I … .only wanted to sketch her.”

“Like an artist?” Even to Fox’s ears it sounded like a stupid question. It was only slightly better than the first words that came to mind. A line from the Titanic “draw me like one of your French girls.”

Shaking his head, Orion sighed “I’m not that good.”

“So you’re not like seeing each other?” Fox asked.

Orion seemed to be mesmerized by Fox’s flexing hands as it took him a moment to respond. “What?”

“Dating? Are you dating?” Fox demanded.

“Nnno,” Orion shook his head.

“Good,” Fox said, pushing away from the post ‘keep it that way.”

“What,” Orion said, looking confused.

“My sister is in a fragile state right now,” Fox explained moving in close. “I wouldn’t want to see her be hurt anymore than she already has.”

Gulping Orion took a step back. “I um,” he looked around as if he wanted to run but didn’t know which way to go.

Putting an arm across Orion’s shoulders, Fox continues “look you seem like a nice guy but I have to look out for my sister. You know how little sisters are, right?”

Orion stares at the hand laying heavy on his shoulder like it was a python instead of hand. “No,” he shakes his head “I..I don’t have any siblings.”

“Then you don’t know how it is,” Fox sounded a little disappointed. Squeezing Orions shoulder, he continued “as an older brother it’s my duty to look out for her even when she doesn’t want me to. And she wouldn’t want me doing this.”

Orion nodded, barely able to breathe “I..I won’t ssseee her again.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Fox said, giving Orion’s shoulder one last squeeze before stepping back.

As Fox walked away Orion shivered from more than the cool breeze off the lake. What was he going to do now?

***

Orion wasn’t interested in ranch work but the horses needed to be fed and watered. The stalls needed to be cleaned. Fresh hay laid out. The horses needed attention. He smiled as Lucy nuzzled into him searching for one more carrot or sugar cube. Laughing he rubbed her velvety muzzle as he gave her his last apple slice. “Better make that last,” he said, “I don’t have any more.”

Walking away, she whinnied after him as if complaining at his lack of understanding her need for more treats. “Tomorrow,” he said, “I promise.”

Orion loved the ranch his grandparents had started and he couldn’t imagine someone else living there when his mom could no longer run it. He knew he was expected to take over when they retired but did he want it?

All he ever wanted to do was paint. The idea of painting had him thinking about the beach. And…Stella. He hadn’t gone back to the beach since that night. No amount of telling himself that he was busy taking care of the ranch could convince himself that he wasn’t afraid of Stella’s brother. He was. Fox was huge! His hand alone dwarfed his shoulder.

Perhaps his imagination was running away with him. He had never been threatened before so it was possible. Maybe he even had it coming. Had Stella only seemed to have forgiven him? Maybe she had her brother threaten him to make sure he never did it again!

After a week of staying home, Orion needed to get away. Gathering his sketch book from his room having decided it was best to put his things away as his mom had requested of him. But any secrets he had were already discovered. Stella’s face came to mind. Was she at the beach? Was she wondering where he was?

Shaking his head he dismissed those thoughts as being overly optimistic. She probably hadn’t even noticed even if she had she probably was relieved.

Heaving a sigh Orion decided he’d go to the lake instead. Hardly anyone ever went there except for the hard core campers who thought sleeping in a tent was roughing it.

***

Stella flipped through Orion’s sketch book. He had managed to capture the softness beneath her hard exterior or what she thought was her hard exterior. At least she always prided herself in having a hard exterior. But seeing the sketches she wondered if that was just in her head…

Closing the sketch book she slid it under her mattress. It had been years since she had hid her diary there and her mattress had never told any of her secrets.

Grabbing her car keys she skipped down the stairs, ignoring the glum glare her brother gave her as she left. She felt a twinge of worry in his direction. He had the same lost puppy look he had when his high school sweetheart had broken his heart. Has he met someone?

She didn’t have time to puzzle out the mysteries that were her brother. She was confident that, given enough time, Fox would open up to her. Right now all she wanted to do was get to the beach.

Thirty minutes later, Stella sighed, skipping a rock across the smooth surface of the water. Orion wasn’t there…again. He hadn’t been there for almost two weeks. Had she scared him off when she teased him about stalking her?

She hadn’t realized how much she had looked forward to seeing him. The beach just wasn’t the same without him. She walked slowly back to where she had left her car. Regret filled her. If she had gotten his number she could just call him.

One call and she’d know if he were sick. Out of town. Dead.

Now she was just being dramatic.

She’d give him another week. If he didn’t reappear she’d start looking for him. And she wouldn’t stop until she found him.

Chapter 12 – Small Beginnings

Jul26

For the first time in months Ivy let herself relax. Her medical books and notebooks were in a half moon shape around her next of pillows on the floor. Each subject had a specific color assigned to it matching the notebook. She had a specific pen to match. She seldom had the freedom to set her study area the way she liked it at the dorms. The one time she did she nearly died of embarrassment. For weeks after she’d been the subject of whispers and jokes.

Frowning her thoughts transported her backwards in time. She could hear several girls giggling as they walked through the room where she was studying. One of the girls, a stunning blond, stopped and picked up favorite pens that had a fancy purple feather attached to it. Ivy knew she’d always remember the condescending tone and sneering mask Priscilla Whatley wore that day as she said “I suppose you’re going to have feathers on your scalpels too?” The other girls all howled at her comment.

For the first time Ivy wondered if this was why her brother didn’t want to be a doctor? Shaking her head Ivy sighed dismissing any and all intrusive thoughts. She came home to study in peace, the way she liked. She didn’t come home to psychoanalyze herself or her brother. Besides she’d never cared what others thought of her anyway.

But….that traitorous word floated through her head filling her with trepidation. Priscilla was all a med student and all the teachers doted on her. Priscilla hadn’t just made comments in the dormitory but in class as well. So much so Ivy felt like she had been put under a microscope. Every little thing she did or didn’t do was microanalyzed. One of her professors had even called her frivolous because of her color coded notes and pens and that was after she had replaced all the feathered ones she’d loved.

She hated all the self-doubts that had begun to fill her thoughts. Maybe she wasn’t as good as she thought. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to be a doctor. Maybe she’d make a terrible mistake. What if she killed someone or got sued or ….

“Stop,” she muttered to herself reaching for the first book “I’m here to study, not obsess over what if scenarios.”

A couple of hours later a soft knock startled her from her quiet reflection on her notes. “Sorry for interrupting,” her mom said as her head popped into view “but you have a visitor.”

Without lifting her face from her notes Ivy said “tell whoever it is to go away.”

“It’ll only take a moment,” her mother said “besides you need a break.”

Looking up Ivy said “what I need is to study.”

Crossing the room, Temperance stood over her daughter, “is something wrong?”

“Mom,” Ivy rolled her eyes, “I just need to study.”

“Are you sure?” Temperance pressed “You seem a little off. Are you feeling alright?”

Ivy pulled back as her mom tried to press a hand to her forehead “I’m fine. Just a little tired.” She could see her mom wasn’t convinced. Putting her pen inside her book to mark her place she stood up “I’ll take a break, okay?”

“Good,” Temperance smiled. “Your visitor is waiting on the back porch for you.”

“My what?” she asked, blinking up at her mother.

“Your visitor,” Temperance repeated, smiling at her before she left the room.

***

Surveying her study nest, Ivy let out a frustrated sigh. For a moment she thought about just staying in her room and letting her mom deal with her unexpected visitor. Groaning, she uncurled herself and stood up knowing she couldn’t ignore her unwanted visitor any longer.

Reluctantly, she left her room. As she approached the door to the back porch, her eyes scanned the area wondering who had come to see her. At first she didn’t see anyone and wondered hopefully that they had given up and left.

Resisting the urge to go back to her room, she stepped onto the porch and there he was, standing with his back towards her. She should have retreated back to her room but her annoyance at him prevailed.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, giving him the full benefit of her scowl.

Turning he gave her an amused smirk, the one he knew annoyed his mother most. He chuckled to himself when Ivy’s eyes lit up with fire.

Ivy narrowed her eyes at the young man, “I have better things to do then stand here and be laughed at; especially by you.”

He admired the way her chin jutted out and her nose pointed upwards as if telling anyone watching that she disapproved of the situation she was in. It wasn’t her fault she was being subjected to his presence. Like she was above him and she was right, the thought both amused and angered him.

“Don’t go away with your panties in a twist,” he chuckled at the way her head whipped around to face him, her nostrils flared as her chest heaved from the anger he could see bubbling just beneath the surface causing him to wonder what she’d be like in bed.

“You sir will never have an effect on my panties.”

He stared down at her upturned face, his eyes lingered on her lips before saying “challenge accepted.”

Her eyes widened making her look like a startled deer. “What do you want? She demanded enunciating each word.

Grinning, bowing slightly he kissed the top of her hand. “To ask you out. You did, I recall, win a date with me.”

Her skin tingled where his lips touched and her heart seemed to flutter. Shaking her head as she pulled her hand away from his grasp she said “you’ll have to do better than the debonair act. I’m no damsel in distress. I don’t swoon so easily. “

“But you will go out with me.” It was a statement of fact and he noticed the slight beginnings of a nod before she could stop it.

Noting the flash of triumph in his eyes she took a step backwards increasing the space between them. “I’ll keep my agreement with your mom.” She had some degree of satisfaction at the irritation he tried to disguise in the arch of his brows. “But not now. I have to study”

***

Dakota shook her head at the mess her son left in the entryway. She was always after him to put his painting supplies away instead of leaving it next to the door. She couldn’t hide the smile that formed as she gathered his things into a neat pile that wasn’t cascading across the floor waiting for some half suspecting visitor to stumble over. As she neatly stacked his supplies her eyes caught on a half finished sketch of a young woman strolling along the beach. The girl’s eyes were soft and dreamy.

Curious to know who the girl was, Dakota skimmed through her son’s sketch pad finding multiple sketches of the same girl.

“What’s so interesting,” Macey asked as she was passing by “You’re practically purring.”

Dakota silently handed her son’s sketch book to her wife.

Macey took it with raised eyebrows. “She’s very pretty,” she said, handing it back to Dakota.

“She is,” Dakota agreed, putting the sketch pad on top of Orion’s other things.

“What’s wrong?” Macey asked, observing the worried glint in her wife’s blue eyes that went from clear to stormy in an instance.

“Nothing,” Dakota shook her head.

Raising on eyebrow Macey touched Dakota’s arm “you’re not very convincing. What is it?”

Shrugging a little Dakota sighed “I feel awful even thinking it,” she looked behind her as if worried of being overheard “but you don’t think he’s stalking that girl do you?”

“What,” Macey gasped, gaping at her wife “our son would never. He’s too shy.”

“Precisely,” Dakota said “he’s shy and awkward and never had a girlfriend…”

Putting her hands on her wife’s shoulders, Macey said “calm down. You’re reading too much into this”

“You think?”

Nodding Macey squeezed her wife tight “I know our son. He’d never even think of doing anything like that.”

Letting out a pent up sigh Dakota nodded “I know. I just got … scared.”

“You can put the fear to rest,” Macey chuckled. “Orion is many things but a stalker he is not.”

“When you say it like that it makes me feel like an idiot,” Dakota said laughing a little.

“However,” Macey said “I do think he might have a little crush on whoever that girl is.”

“Do you think we should talk to him,” Dakota asked.

Shaking her head, Macey said “I think we should hold off for a while. Let him come to us.”

***

Orion knew his parents were talking about him. He could hear their whispered voices making him wonder if they were trying to decide if he could handle bad news. And no, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to know if his grandparents had died. He knew Grandpa Waylon had been ill but he didn’t think it was that serious. Should he have gone to visit his grandparents?

He reached for the door knob, feeling the consuming desire to paint. His parents turned as he came out of his room. “What/” he asked, feeling like he was ten again sneaking outside to paint the stars.

“Nothing,” Dakotah said quickly, “are you going out?”

“To the beach,” he said, his eyes sliding towards his supplies. Instantly he could tell his mom had straightened his things. His eyes fell on his notebook wondering if his mom had seen his sketches. From her slightly guilty expression he’d bet she had.

“The sunset is supposed to be really something this evening,” Macey said, giving her wife a stern look when she giggled.

“Yeah I want to capture it on canvas,” Orion agreed, edging towards his things wishing that he had taken the time to put his things away instead of just dumping it as usual in the entryway. Lesson learned.

He could feel their eyes following him as he gathered his things and walked from the house. No doubt they were wondering if he were going to have a clandestine meeting with the mysterious girl in his sketches. A part of him hoped he would.

Arriving at the beach, Orion walked to the water’s edge watching the sky change colors. His fingers itched to sketch what he say but he was afraid the moment he moved he’d miss something in the sky.

“Beautiful,” a soft voice said behind him.

Jumping, Orion whirled around squeaking a little.

“Sorry,” Stella apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” he stammered hastily.

Raising an eyebrow, she asked “Are you sure about that?”

“Well I mean…” sighing, he nodded “fine I was startled. A little.”

Stella bent to gather his scattered sketch books.

At her surprised gasp, Orion saw she was staring at a sketch of her as she gazed wistfully into the horizon. It was one of his favorites. He liked the way the fading sunlight had shimmered on the water and made her hair appear like fire.

She flipped through more pages. When she had looked at each page and closed the sketch book she looked up at him. “Is this how you see me?”

He wasn’t sure if she was mad or not. Her voice was low and flat. “I’m sssorry,” his nervous stuttered reared it’s ugly head. “I wwwwon’t…”

Frowning, she asked “won’t what?”

He made some unintelligible sounds trying to form words. His hands reached for the sketch book. Taking it from her hands and started walking towards a nearby trash can.

“Wait,” she called after him. When he didn’t seem to hear her, she scampered after him. “Don’t throw it away!”

His hand froze. He stared at her incomprehension.

“Those sketches are beautiful. You can’t throw them away.”

Blinking as if waking up “you liked it?”

“Yes,” she asserted, “can I have them?”

“Of course,” she enthused, hugging the sketch book to her chest. “No one has ever sketched me before.”

Staring at his feet, his shoulders rising and falling “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she asked, confused.

Waving a hand at the sketch book, “I should have asked.”

“Oh,” she giggled, “yeah that was kind of stalkery.

His eyes flicked up, meeting hers and smiled when he saw amusement shining from her eyes. “I will next time.”

Raising an eyebrow “next time? You sketch other girls?”

“Nnnnnoo,” he stammered.

“Good,” she tilted her chin up, laughing “I like being someone’s muse.”

He couldn’t believe his ears but a sense of relief spread through him. “Will you pose for me?”

“Like a nude model?” she asked.

He could feel heat spread through his body up to his face. “That’s nnnot what I…mmmeant.”

“I’m teasing,” she said lightly touching his cheek. “You’re kind of cute when you’re all flustered.”

Orion felt his heart try to climb up his throat as he helplessly watched her walk away. He wanted to say something but all his mind could come up with was she thinks I’m cute.

Chapter 11 – Road Blocks and Detours

Jul6

“I told you she wasn’t gonna last,” the middle aged cook said when Rose once again failed to arrive for her shift at the shelter.

Fox shrugged nonchalantly as if it didn’t matter to him that Rose once again shirked her duties.

“Sheltered little brats don’t know what work is or what it means to go without,” the cook continued, taking his silence as permission to voice her opinion. “What you need is a nice, responsible girl.”

Fox grimaced “I suppose you know where such a girl can be found.”

“My youngest daughter is about your age,” the cook continued, “she’d be perfect for you. Not that I’m setting you up or anything.”

Inhaling deeply Fox said “no of course not.”

“She’s a good girl,” they continued “knows how to hold down a job. Been working since she was sixteen. Knows how to cook. I bet little Miss Priss wouldn’t know how to cook. Probably burn the house down or cry she ,ruined her manicure or something.”

“Birdie stop,” Fox snapped. “Rose wasn’t that bad. She washed hundreds of dirty dishes without crying over her manicure.” Well maybe a little but he’d been able to get her to laugh it off and she had returned. “You know she’s busy planning her parents’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.”

“She’ll be lucky to find a man who will put up with her for twenty-five minutes, much less years,” Birdie said, waving her ladle around, disbursing spaghetti sauce liberally over the stove and countertop.

Fox couldn’t contain the snort of amusement that exploded from him. Birdie was probably right but he wouldn’t mind trying. Not for the first time he wondered if he should give her a call. Better yet, go over to her house, as his chances of her answering his calls were as dismal as her returning the texts he had sent.

“You should come over for supper,” Birdie said “meet my youngest and you’ll forget all about the princess.”

Rolling his eyes, Fox sighed “if I agree to come over will you promise to give Rose a chance? She’s not so bad.”

“Sure why not,” Birdie chuckled. “It’s not like she’s ever coming back. Mark my words, she’s done with this place. A place like this loses its appeal real quick to the likes of her…”

Cutting her off, Fox asked “when?”

“What?”

“When do you want me to come over?” he asked in an air of long-suffering.

“Oh,” Birdie pursed her cracked lips as she thought “Saturday night around 6:00.”

“I’ll be there,” Fox said “but I’m making no promises.”

“Fine,” Birdie said, handing the bubbling pot of sauce to one of the servers “but you’ll see what I mean. My Gertie is a real catch. She’s ten times better than what’s her name.”

***

Scratching his head as he left the shelter, Fox wondered if he had done the right thing by agreeing to Birdie’s invitation. It’s not that he disliked Birdie’s daughter, he just didn’t like being set up and that’s exactly what this is, a set up. Was it Gertie’s idea? Or her mothers? He had no idea although from the few times he met Gertie he had the vague feeling she wasn’t all that interested in meeting anyone, boy or girl. She was just…her. And she seemed happy enough to him. But what did he know?

Shrugging he decided it wasn’t worth worrying about. If it got Birdie from calling Rose names then it’d be worth it.

Rose.

What was he going to do about her? He felt bad for upsetting her. Not that she didn’t deserve it. She was a spoiled brat but was that her fault? Her parents sheltering her from the realities of life hadn’t done her justice and now they’re pushing her out of the nest sort of and she wasn’t taking it too kindly. What she needed was someone to commiserate with her and not ridicule her. He should have encouraged her by telling her she could do it instead of being insulted that she thought he was living off his parents.

With these thoughts swirling around inside his head Fox found himself outside Rose’s family home. He gazed out his window wondering why he had gone here. He had a million things he should be doing and this is where he came. Sighing he stepped out of his car, an old rust bucket that he bought when he’d gotten his driver’s license six years ago. It wasn’t much to look at but it got him from here to there and that’s all he cared about.

Walking up to the door he tried to come up with what he wanted to say. He didn’t feel as if he needed to apologize. Everything he said was true if anything she should be apologizing to him but he doubted that would ever happen.

Sighing he lifted his left hand and knocked. He waited a moment before knocking again. The continued silence had him backing away from the door sure no one was home. When he was almost off the porch the door opened and an older man stepped out.

“Can I help you?” he said.

“Hello sir,” Fox said politely “my name is Fox Cornel, I volunteer at the shelter.”

The man’s lips raised in a knowing grin “yes my daughter has mentioned you.”

“Is she home by chance,” Fox asked.

Holding the door open the man said “why don’t you come inside and I’ll get her. My name’s Kade by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you sir,” Fox said as he stepped inside.

As Fox waited in the entryway he could hear muffled voices he assumed were Rose and her father. It went on for so long he was tempted to leave.

“What do you want?” a loud angry voice demanded.

Fox dropped his hand from the door knob before turning to face Rose. “That’s an interesting way to greet a visitor.”

Rose’s eyes narrowed, pointing towards the door “leave.”

“Don’t you even want to know why I came?” he asked.

“I don’t care,” she huffed, “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

“Rose,” Kade admonished behind her “let him speak.”

“Why?” she demanded “so he can say he thinks I’m a spoiled brat? Or how I should have called to say I wasn’t coming in to volunteer.”

“You didn’t call,” Kade said, “they were depending upon you…”

“Oh don’t you start,” she cried glaring at him. “What’s the point of volunteering if you have to call in when you don’t want to do it? It’s not like I’m getting paid and punching a clock.”

“Don’t bother coming back,” Fox snapped from where he stood by the door “We don’t need your help. And to think I was going to apologize.”

“You what,” she blinked, surprised but it was too late. Fox was already out the door.

“Go after him,” Kade urged her.

“Why should I,” she demanded, “it’s not like I’ve done anything to apologize for.”

Her vehemence left even her steadfast father stunned into silence.

***

“Mom,” Gertie rolled her eyes “Fox didn’t come here to listen to you talk about me.”

“What’s wrong with me talking about my little girl,” Birdie demanded as she heaped another helping onto Fox’s plate. “Need to put some meat on your bones.”

Shaking his head Fox felt his stomach groan in protest. “I can’t eat another bit,” he protested knowing his words would fall on deaf ears. “I’m stuffed.”

“You eat like a bird,” Birdie reprimanded “my dear late husband could eat rings around you.”

“And he’d have done better to have eaten less,” Gertie pointed out. Getting up from the table “come on Fox, let’s go for a walk while you can still move.”

“Thank you for a wonderful meal,” Fox said as he stood up and followed Gertie from the room. He couldn’t help but notice the hopeful gleam in Birdie’s eyes.

As they walked away from the house Gertie said “that woman is a positive nuisance.”

“Birdie’s not that bad,” Fox chuckled.

“She’s impossible,” Gertie snorted. “all she talked about was you coming over for supper. She insisted I bake a pie. And a cake. She probably would have had me make brownies and cookies too if I hadn’t refused. I swear she believes in that saying that the way to the heart of a man is through the stomach.”

Parting his stomach that felt three times its normal size Fox said “maybe if the man’s stomach exploded.”

“I’m sorry,” Gertie blurted.

“For what,” he asked. “It’s not your fault your mom’s the way she is.”

“She’s gotten so much worse since I came out,” Gertie sighed. “It’s like she thinks if she throws enough men my way I’ll miraculously change and like one of them. No offense,” she tacked on at the end.

“None taken,” Fox felt the coils of tension loosen inside him. “I’m rather relieved. I was trying to figure out how to tell you I wasn’t interested.”

“I kind of figured you weren’t,” Gertie said. “From what I understand you like some spoiled little girl who was volunteering at the shelter.”

“Her name is Rose,” he agreed, “but I don’t think she likes me.” He went on to tell Gertie about what happened when he went to Rose’s house “I don’t even know if I was going to apologize but after she yelled at me there was no way I was going to.”

“Sounds like she has some growing up to do,” Gertie said wisely, taking her glasses off to clean the lenses. Putting them back on she continued “she’ll come looking for you in a few days.”

Shrugging “doesn’t matter if she does. I’m leaving tomorrow for a week.”

“Oh?

“I’m coming back,” he chuckled. “My family always goes camping this time of year.”

“I hate camping,” Gertie said. “I’m more the glamping kind of girl.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Fox chuckled. “I would have thought you liked roughing it.”

“I like my luxuries,” she said “my girlfriend and I have a trip planned and it’s five star hotels and pools all the way.”

Reaching over, Fox touched Gertie’s hand “your mom will come around.”

“Oh I know,” Gertie said, turning around to walk back to the house “once she runs out of men to throw at me.”

***

A week later Fox entered the kitchen at the shelter. Before he could find a cleanish apron Birdie came looking for him.

“Get that girl out of my kitchen,” she demanded.

Frowning Fox scanned the kitchen to find a familiar girl at her customary corner with her arms elbow deep in the sink scrubbing dishes. “She came back,” he whispered.

“That she did,” Birdie’s voice was loud “and she won’t leave.”

“If you want her gone take care of it yourself,” Fox said, grabbing the first apron and tying it around his waist before grabbing a tray and making his way to the front to start serving the lunch rush.

“Did you two have a fight,” Birdie called after him as he rushed away.

At the sound of Fox’s voice Rose felt her heart skip a beat or two. She wanted to turn around and see the surprise in his eyes when he saw her there. However he was gone before she could look. That awful woman had to ruin the moment. She was positive Fox would have taken a moment to say a word or two to her. He always had no matter how busy they were.

As the hours passed her optimism waned. Fox had yet to approach her. If she didn’t know better she’d have thought he was avoiding her. Surely he couldn’t still be mad at her.

Finishing up the last of the dishes she lifted her hands over her head stretching. She looked up as Fox entered the kitchen. For a moment their eyes met.

“I see you didn’t get rid of her,” Fox observed.

Shrugging Birdie said “as long as she’s here she may as well be useful. The dishes won’t wash themselves.”.

Nodding Fox continued “everyone’s been served so I’m off.”

Frowning Rose opened her mouth to call him back. However she caught herself before she did something so humiliating. She wasn’t going to beg him to notice her. It’d be a cold day in hell before that happened.

Chapter 10 – So Wrong

Jun28

Rose walked into the kitchen, yawning as she reached for the coffee pot. It took her a moment to realize the usual welcoming aroma, and warmth wasn’t there to greet her fuzzy morning brain. Grunting, she replaced the empty coffee pot as her parents came into the kitchen. “There’s no coffee,” she said in a tone that was almost an accusation.

“Sorry,” Kade said,his smile fading “I overslept.”

“Don’t apologize,” Grant said, “she’s an adult. She can make her own coffee.”

“I know,” Kade sighed, moving to get the coffee from the cabinet.

Grant watched him with a disapproving gaze before turning that gaze upon his daughter. “You should do more around the house.”

Rose felt her mouth drop “I do plenty.”

Grant’s eyes stared stonily back at her, daring her to disagree with him.

His silence and his steady gaze was worse than if he had listed everything she should be doing and wasn’t. She moved towards the toaster and took the toast from it and munched on it absently.

“That was for your father,” Kade said in a low voice even though he was replacing the bread in the toaster.

“Looks like he could learn to do more around the house too,” she snapped without thinking.

Kade handed her a cup of steaming coffee “I think you need this before you say anything else.”

Almost meekly she took her half eaten toast and coffee to the table and sat down. She tried to ignore the angry glare her father was giving her. The steam coming from his ears was a match to the steam from her coffee but less enjoyable.

Grant sat across from her, stirring cream into his coffee. “How old are you?”

“Why?” She demanded scowling at him.

“Just answer the question,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Rolling her eyes “twenty-two.”

“So you’d consider yourself an adult,” he said in an even, firm tone.

“I hate it when you do this,” she mumbled, ripping off a piece of bread with the teeth.

“What am I doing?” he asked.

“Trying to trap me,” she said, catching her father’s eye. “I’m not a dumb teenager anymore.”

“No you’re not,” he agreed “which means I shouldn’t have to tell you this because you are an adult of twenty-two.”

Rose groaned knowing she had once again walked into a trap of her own making.

“Your dad and I were married at your age…”

“I’ve heard this all before,” she said, cutting him off. Glancing at the clock on the wall, “I’m going to be late.” She started to get up when a stern voice stopped her.”

“Sit down,” Kade snapped as he joined them at the table. “The shelter can wait.”

“But they’re expecting me,” her voice faded as she looked into Kade’s eyes. She might have continued on her way if it had been Grant but she’d never been able to defy Kade who in most cases had been the more lenient of her two dads. “Fine,” she plopped back into her chair, crossing her arms. “What’s so important that it can’t wait until I’m done feeding the homeless.”

“That’s enough of that attitude,” Grant snapped. “While your dad and I are proud of you for volunteering at the shelter, that doesn’t mean you can just sit around the rest of the time and do nothing.”

“I don’t sit around and do nothing,” she objected.

“Shopping doesn’t count,” Grant said “you need to get a job.”

“A job,” she cried, looking as if someone had ripped the rug out from beneath her.

“You need to learn to take care of yourself,” he continued. “You’re dad and I might not always be here and we feel it is time you learn some life skills.”

“This is so unfair,” she cried before pushing away from the table and stomping off muttering to herself.

“Well that could have gone better,” Kade sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Grant sighed. “I let her get under my skin. Why can’t she be more like Brooks?”

.“She’s her own person like Brooks is his own person. It’s unfair for you to expect them to be alike,” Kade pointed out.

“I know,” Grant reached across the table for Kade’s hand. “I wish they were still little.”

“Me too,” Kade agreed, squeezing his husband’s hand “but they’re both old enough to make their own decisions. We just have to figure out how to support them.”

Grant grunted “why do I have the feeling it’s going to be easier to accept Brooks transition than it will be to motivate Rose into getting a job.”

“Because we know our kids,” Kade said simply.

***

Rose was scrolling through her phone when someone knocked on her bedroom door. She froze, half a mind to ignore whoever was on the other side of the door. “What?” she demanded, her voice, brittle as ice shards.

Kade poked his head into her room almost as if he half expected to have to duck flying objects. “Can we talk?”

Shrugging she stared at her phone “whatever,” she mumbled.

“Is what we’re asking such an awful thing?” he asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.

She made a face at her phone “why now?”

Kade puffed out a breath of air before reaching over and taking her phone from her hands. “It’s not like we haven’t asked you before.”

She glanced out her window instead of looking at her dad. “But this time you mean it.”

“We meant it before too,” Kade pointed out; although he knew she had a point.

“Why now?” She asked, turning to meet his gaze “Aren’t I doing enough helping out at the shelter?”

“It’s a good thing you want to help others but don’t you think it’s time you helped yourself too? Maybe that’s why this feels different to you,” Kade gently took her hands “honey this isn’t a punishment.”

“It feels like one,” she cried, pulling her hands away as she got to her feet.

“Call it an early anniversary present to me and your father,” Kade said.

“Your what,” she gave him a puzzled look.

“Your father and I have been married for twenty-five years,” Kade said “it’d be nice to know we haven’t been failures as parents.”

“You’re not failures,” she protested.

“What would you call it when one daughter decides they’re a boy and the other is so spoiled she doesn’t see the reason she needs to learn to take care of herself?”

“Brooks wanting to be a boy has nothing to do with you,” she said.

“That’s what the therapist said but,” he sighed, shaking his head “it just feels like I failed in some fundamental way.”

“Well I think you’re both wonderful parents,” Rose said “and to prove it I’m going to throw you and dad the best anniversary party ever.”

“We don’t need a party,” it was Kade who was doing the protesting now.

“Of course you do,” she cried, “twenty-five years is something to celebrate.”

“Grant and I will just go out for dinner,” Kade said, “you need to save your money.”

“You go out to eat every year,” she said, dismissing his idea. “You need something special. Just leave it to me.”

“Rose, your father wasn’t joking about you finding a job…”

Waving her hand, she said “he’ll understand. I can’t get a job now, not when I need to organize your anniversary party.” Standing she picked up her phone “there’s so much to do and only a few weeks to get it all done.” Looking up she gave her dad a brilliant smile “leave all to me. You’ll love it I promise.”

Kade left his daughter’s room wondering how he was going to explain this turn of events to his husband. He had gone in there to explain why she needed to grow up instead he was leaving with her planning their anniversary party.

***

Rose swept through the doors of the by now familiar homeless shelter. A few of the usual visitors waved at her but the workers setting up for the dinner rush ignored her or grunted when she said hi as she passed them. “What’s wrong with everyone?” she muttered as she stepped into the kitchen.

“Where were you?” A cold but familiar voice demanded.

Turning towards the sink she giggled “I knew you wouldn’t like having to wash dishes anymore than me.”

“Where the hell were you? You knew we were short two people today and you promised you’d be here.”

“Excuse me for having a life,” she snapped, taking a step backwards.

He rinsed down the sink area before wiping his hands dry on the front of his jeans. “I should have known better than to rely on a spoiled little princess to keep her promise.”

“I wish people would stop calling me a spoiled little princess,” she whined “I have problems too.”

“Yeah right,” Fox rolled his eyes moving towards the counter to start on prep work for the dinner rush.

“I do,” she stomped her foot. “My parents told me I had to get a job. Can you imagine…”

Fox let out a loud guffaw causing several volunteers to turn and stare. “That’s your problem? You have to get a job!.”

“Well yeah,” she said, unsure why he was looking at her in such confusion. “I know that doesn’t sound like much to you since all you do is volunteer but I’m in the middle of planning my parent’s anniversary party. Where they think I’m going to find the time to find a job and do that I have no idea.”

“You think all I do is volunteer,” Fox’s voice was low and gruff.

“Well,” she shrugged, “you’re always here. I just assumed…” The angry glint in his usually amused eyes had her regretting all the assumptions she had made about him.

“I’ll have you know I work a full time job besides volunteering my time here,” he said “most of the volunteers here do. We’re not all made of money. We have to work in order to pay the bills.”

“But you’re parents…” she didn’t finish her sentence.

“What about my parents,” he demanded.

Taking a deep breath she said “well everyone knows they have money. Why do you have to work?”

“Because it’s their money not mine,” he said.

Her mouth dropped open “but you’re their son. What’s theirs is yours.”

“So according to you it’s alright to take advantage of them,” he turned back to chopping the carrots.

“You’re twisting my words,” she cried “I just don’t see why you would need to work when they have enough money that you don’t have to.”

“I like being independent,” he said.

“I’m independent,” she said bristling at what felt like an insult.

“Sure, until you need your next hand out,” he said, moving past her to grab more carrots to chop. “Look, I’m a little busy to talk right now. So if you’re not here to help you should probably leave.”

This was so not what she expected. She had thought Fox would understand. Would offer to help her plan her parent’s party. What was she supposed to do now?

***

“What did you do?” Rose demanded as soon as Brooks entered the house.

Brooks raised a hand, running his fingers through the shorter locks on his head. “Atlas said it looked good.”

“He would,” Rose snorted, putting her hands on her hips.

“What’s wrong with it?” Brooks said, moving towards the hall mirror.

Rolling her eyes, Rose huffed “it makes you look like such a boy.”

Brooks froze, torn by his sister’s careless words. A part of him was happy that his appearance was starting to match how he felt on the inside. But another part of him withered inside “you never really accepted me.” he said as he turned from the mirror “you never really believed me when I told you how I felt locked inside the wrong body.”

“Of course I did,” Rose said “I’ve always supported you.”

“I wonder,” Brooks sighed more to himself than to his sister.

“You should take it as a compliment,” Rose said as if she could erase the hurt she caused by saying it was something it wasn’t.

“Why are you here?” Brooks asked, wanting desperately to change the subject.

“I need your help in planning our parents’ 25th anniversary,” Rose said as if she hadn’t just crushed her brother’s heart.

“Since when do they want a party?” Brooks demanded.

“Twenty five years is a long time,” Rose persisted. “So I thought since they never had a formal wedding that it’d be fun if we all dressed up. You and I could wear matching dresses like we did when we were little….”

“No,” Brooks interrupted her before she could elaborate further.

“No what,” Rose asked, blinking at her in surprise.

“I’m not wearing a formal dress,” Brooks said.

“What’s the big deal,” Rose demanded, “it’s just for a few hours.”

Shaking his head Brooks turned away from her. “I’m not wearing a dress, formal or otherwise.”

“Why are you being so selfish?” Rose grabbed Brooks arm before he could slip from the room “it’s for our parent’s anniversary. We always dressed the same when we were little. It’s for them.”

Brooks glared at his sister “fine I’m the selfish one. Now get out of my room.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Rose demanded “you were never like this until you started seeing that guy, what’s his name, Atlas. I bet he’s been filling your head with a bunch of nonsense.”

“He has nothing to do with this,” Brooks jerked his arm free. “I am capable of making my own decisions.”

“Just think about it,” Rose pleaded.

“I said no,” Brooks shouted as he stomped across his room to where his backpack lay next to his bed.

“We’re not done discussing this yet,” Rose said, blocking his path.

“I have class,” Brooks glares at his sister and she moves out of his way.

“This isn’t over,” Rose called after him.

“It is as long as you think I’m going to wear a dress,” Brooks said as he swept past her.

Rose stared after her brother wondering how things had gone so wrong.

Chapter 9 – The Makeover

Jun7

Rose pulled her phone out checking the time. “Where are you?” she typed sending the same message she had sent a few minutes before as if it would produce a different result then the first unanswered message had garnered.

A few minutes later she pushed through the dorm doors tired of waiting. Pulling her jacket close, feeling the chill fall air penetrate her light jacket. “There you are,” she called as Brooks came hurrying up the sidewalk towards her.

“Sorry,” he murmured, coming to a stop a couple of feet from where Rose stood in front of the dorm door.

“We were supposed to have left twenty minutes ago,” Rose said.

“I told you I wasn’t going,” Brooks said.

“No you didn’t,”

“Yes I did,” Brooks turned towards Atlas who had walked with him to his dorm. “I have to study for a test.”

“I already told our dad’s that we were going home this weekend,” Rose said. “They’re expecting us.”

“Then go home,” Brooks said “I need to study.”

Rose eyed Atlas standing off to the side. “You just want to spend time with him.”

Brooks shoved his hands into his pockets, pressing his lips together into a thin line.

“That’s it isn’t it,” Rose said stepping closer “You’d rather spend time with him than go home.”

Atlas shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “I’m going to go,” he said, turning to Brooks “if you want to talk later you have my number.”

Brooks looked like he wanted to ask him to stay but all he did was nod and watch him walk away.

“You better hurry,” Rose said. To her shock and utter dismay Brooks turned and ran after Atlas. “What the …”

***

Atlas stopped, hearing rapid footsteps coming up behind him. Turning, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw it was Brooks running to catch up to him. “I don’t think she likes me,” he said, nodding in the direction of Brooks’ older sister.

Brooks shrugged, “she doesn’t listen.”

“Maybe…” Atlas shook his head, looking away.

“What?”

Turning to face Brooks he said “it’s not my place to tell you what to do. I’m just your tutor.”

“Right,” Brooks said, “and here I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” Atlas said and just for a moment the idea popped into his head that maybe he wanted a little more. It was a strange and foreign idea and one he wasn’t ready to face. “When was the last time you were home?”

Blinking Brooks frowned “what difference does that make? We had plans.”

“To study,” Atlas reminded him “for a test you’re ready for.”

“So you think I should go home…”

Reaching out, Atlas touched Brooks hand lightly “I think you should do what you want.”

“I haven’t been home since I got here,” he said looking back at his sister. “I should probably go.”

“Alright,” Atlas said, taking a couple of steps back “then I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yeah sure,” Brooks agreed. “Will you go home for the weekend?”

Checking the time Atlas shook his head “my sister has already left. So I guess I’ll be here.”

Looking over his shoulder Brooks suggested “maybe you could ride with us.”

“I don’t know,” Atlas said “you’re already late and I still have to pack.”

“You haven’t been home since school started,” Brooks pointed out “and you could be packed by the time we’re ready to go.”

“What about_”

“Don’t worry about her,” Brooks said “I’ll tell her. Now go. We’re in a hurry.”

“I’m going,” he said, running down the sidewalk towards his dormitory.

Brooks turned and jogged up to his sister. “We’re giving Atlas a ride,” he said as he entered the dorm.

“Oh no we’re not,” she said, following him inside.

“Then I’m not going,” he said.

“Fine,” she said. “But he better be ready to go by the time we get there.”

***

“You could be really pretty,” Rose said following Brooks into his room. “All you need is a little makeover.”

With trepidation Brooks watched as Rose opened her purse and pulled out a small arsenal of beauty products. “I thought we were in a hurry,” he stammered, pulling out his suitcase.

“Don’t you want to make a good impression on that tutor of yours,” she asked. “He’s kind of cute.”

“We’re just friends,” he said as he tossed a few items into the suitcase.

Rose watched him in the mirror “you do think he’s cute.”

“Is he?” Brooks shrugged, “I haven’t noticed.”

Turning “yes you have.”

Refusing to meet her eyes, Brooks moved towards the door “I’m ready.”

“Let me give you a makeover,” Rose pleaded.

“Makeup really isn’t my thing,” Brooks said even though he let Rose lead him back towards the mirror.

“I know lots of guys who wear makeup,” Rose said.

“I don’t know…”

“Trust me,” Rose pushed him down to the bed.

“Aren’t we in a hurry?” Brooks said as Rose took his chin and rotated his face from side to side humming softly.

“We’re already late,” Rose said, turning to select a light lilac eyeshadow “now hold still.”

“I don’t think…” Brooks grimaced as he felt the first stroke against his eyelid “Not too much.”

“Don’t worry,” Rose assured him.

Squirming to look around his sister to see in the mirror, Brooks said “let me see.”

“Not until I’m done,” she said, snatching his chin to hold him still. “Trust me. When I’m finished Atlas won’t be able to look away.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mumbled.

“What was that?” Rose asked, turning from the mirror where she was selecting the right lip color.

“I said I’m afraid he’ll think I look like a clown,” Brooks said.

Stepping aside, Rose let him see himself in the mirror. “You’re beautiful,” she said, “if only you’d wear something other than black.”

Staring at his reflection Brooks swallowed a lump, blinking back tears. He didn’t recognize himself. “It’s too much. I need …”

Grabbing his arm, Rose said “we don’t have time.”

***

As soon as they stopped in front of Atlas’s dorm, Brooks hopped out of the car.

“We don’t have time for this,” Rose shouted after him.

“We’ll be quick,” Brooks called over his shoulder without stopping.

Pushing open the door he passed a couple of boys on their way out. One of them whistled while the other mumbled something that sounded like “I thought she was a boy.”

“She’s pretty hot for a boy,” someone else said.

Any other comments were drowned out by distance and laughter and the noise inside Brooks head.

“Brooks,” Atlas called when he saw him standing and staring into space. “Are you alright?”

Tears shimmered in his eyes “I…they…”

“Did those guys say something to you?” Atlas felt like running after his dorm mates but Brooks’ obvious distress kept him rooted in place.

“They…” a sob tore through his throat.

Pulling him close, patting his back, trying to give what comfort he could even though he had no idea what the problem was.

Taking a deep breath Brooks pushed away from Atlas. Swiping a hand across his face, smearing makeup everywhere “we should go.”

Seeing the smeared makeup Atlas started to connect the dots. “Did Rose do this?”

Nodding Brooks let Atlas lead him to the kitchen sink “I told her it was too much.”

“And those guys made comments,” Atlas said, running some water.

Using some dish soap Brooks started to scrub his face. “They thought I was a girl,” his voice cracked.

If it was his sister Atlas would have laughed but instinctively he knew it would have devastated Brooks to hear his laughter. “I guess that’s not what you were going for?”

Brooks shook his head, hiding his face behind his hands. “I should have washed it off before we left but Rose was in a hurry.”

Atlas pressed his lips together before what he thought of Rose came out. “Makeup isn’t for everyone. I know some guys like it and don’t get me talking about all the goths.”

Brooks giggled a little “all I looked like was a girl.”

Shrugging Atlas turned from Brooks to rummage in his bag. He pulled a container out “here. You might want to put this on. Your skin is going to dry out from the dish soap”

“Thanks,” Brooks held it to his nose, sniffing “mmm smells good.”

“Doesn’t it? My dad gave it to me,” Atlas said “it makes your skin really soft and smooth.” .

“What’s taking so long?” Rose’s annoyed voice caused both boys to jump at the sound.

“Um,” Brooks mumbled, looking towards the floor like he was guilty of something.

“It’s my fault,” Atlas said. “I splashed water in his face and ruined his makeup.”

“Oh,” her eyes blinked, taking in her brother’s changed appearance. “Well hurry up. I don’t want to be driving all night.” She turned and stomped off.

“Thanks,” Brooks said, handing Atlas’ his cream.

“No problem,” he muttered, “is she always like that?”

Shrugging “pretty much.”

Chapter 8 – Introductions

May31

Stella rolled over, moaning softly “what am I doing?” It was a redundant question. One she’d asked herself more than once since she’d called off the wedding. Why was she hiding away in her room? She’d done nothing wrong.

Grabbing her phone and keys from the dresser she skipped down the stairs. “I’m going out,” she called as she passed her dad in the living room.

Behind the steering wheel she drove towards the beach. “I wonder if he’ll be there,” she felt her heartbeat speed up a beat or two. She’d gone there before but so far he hadn’t been there. Checking her mirror she said “maybe today’s the day.”

She groaned at the sound of someone calling her name. Turning “what do you want?”

“Can we talk?” Brad asked, tacking on a please at the end.

“I’ve said all that I want to say,” she said, turning to leave.

Brad grabbed her wrist “you haven’t heard a single word I’ve tried to say.”

“Go croak someplace else,” Stella said “I’m not interested.”

“Stop with the toad references,” he snapped, “I’m trying to be serious.”

“Now you want to be serious when it’s too late,” she tried to pull herself free. “Let go.”

“Not until you listen to me,” he said, pulling her towards a table.

“You don’t have anything I want to hear,” she said trying to dig in her heels but the loose sand and his superior strength worked against her.

“I refuse to believe that you’re willing to throw away everything we had,” he said, turning to face her. “We’re meant to be together.”

“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes. “We were five years old when we promised we’d marry each other.”

“Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“It used to,” she said “until you cheated.”

“I told you why.”

“Right,” she nodded, “a man has needs. Well you can follow your manly needs with no concern for me.”

“That’s not what I want,” he said pulling her close “give me another chance.”

Struggling in his grasp “let me go.”

“Not until you agree to give me another chance,” he was practically shouting. “It’s what’s expected.”

“You should have thought of that before you cheated.” she said, struggling to free herself.

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry,” he shouted.

“You don’t have to say it at all,” she screamed “because I don’t care.”

“What’s going on here?” A worried voice asked.

“Go away,” Brad demanded, “this is a private conversation.”

“I think you should let her go,” the man suggested.

“Fine,” Brad shoved her into the concerned stranger. “We’ll finish this later.”

***

“Are you alright,” strong arms wrapped around Stella keeping her from falling on her face.

“I’m fine,” she said looking up into the face of the boy she’d been hoping to see again. “It’s you,” she murmured.

He raised an eyebrow “uh yeah it’s me.”

“I mean,” she sighed, “we met before.”

Helping her up he frowned “we did?”

Pointing towards the pier “you were painting over there.” She turned, smiling at him “you bumped into me.”

“Oh,” his cheeks flushed with heat “I’m sorry.”

“You’re cute,” she giggled, covering her face in her hands. “I mean, um it’s cute that you apologized, not that I thought you were cute. Not that you aren’t cute.” Groaning as her words dribbled from her lips like a drunk staggering across the room.

He chuckled softly “so you think I’m cute?”

Nodding she bit her bottom lip, afraid to say something else more dreadful than before.

“Um ok I um,” he started to back away “I should be going.”

“Wait,” she cried.

Startled, he fumbled his things, sending paint brushes and canvases across the path.

“I’m sorry,” Stella said as she knelt down to help him gather the paint brushes “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He mumbled something that sounded like “ok” but she wasn’t sure.

“I just wanted to know your name,” she said as she picked up a stray canvas. “This is beautiful,” she said, handing it to him.

“Thank you,” he said, pushing the painting back “you can have it.”

“Oh no I couldn’t,” she said, attempting to hand it back.

“I have others,” he murmured.

“Alright” she accepted the picture staring at the tranquil waves as the sun set. “You’re really talented.”

Closing his satchel that he carried his supplies in he shuffled in place. “Thank you” he stared at his feet as if hoping his toes would inspire him to say something.

“I’m Stella Connelly,” she held out her hand.

Taking it briefly he mumbled “Orion Ferris.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, smiling at him.

Nodding he shuffled backwards “I uh need to go.”

Puzzled, she watched him as he hurried towards a vehicle that seemed to be held together by rust and duct tape. Glancing at the painting in her hand, a soft smile easing the lines of sadness around her eyes.

***

Ivy glanced over at her brother as he gripped the steering wheel as if he expected the car to suddenly break free of his control and go careening over the edge at any moment.

Catching her side, eyeing him Atlas demanded “what?”

Shaking her head she turned to watch the passing scenery.

“Don’t give me that,” he said, reaching for the volume button.

Without looking at him, she said “you don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

Snorting he flexed his fingers before clutching the wheel in his death’s grip once more. His eyes scan the sides of the road checking for deer and other hazards hidden by the thick forest on either side of the road. “What makes it any different now than at home? You have no qualms about telling mom and dad what an awful doctor I’ll be and how they need to look into upping their malpractice insurance.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so stubborn I wouldn’t have to,” she said, turning from the window to glare at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His own voice rising to meet hers.

“You’re doing it again,” she huffed.

“Doing what?”

“This,” she waved her hands in the air, “avoiding the topic.”

“Stop talking in riddles and just say what you mean,” he said.

Rolling her eyes “you can’t be this obtuse.”

“I’m not stupid,” he shouted, turning to glare at her.

She met his glare with one of her own. “Just tell them you don’t want to be a doctor.”

“What…how,” he stammered, pressing down on the gas pedal launching the car forward.

“Watch it,” Ivy cried, her eyes widening as her body tensed.

“What,” Atlas turned his gaze from his sister in time to see a large buck in the road “shit.” He slammed his foot on the brake as his hands yanked the steering wheel hard sending the car careening towards the trees.

Ivy reached for the dash, bracing herself as the trees drew nearer. It was pointless, she knew but she couldn’t fight her body’s reaction to what she was sure was going to be the crunching of metal and mangled limbs and trees. She could hear Atlas cursing as he fought against the inevitable and it took a moment for her to realize they had come to a stop and they were still there, alive, whole and unharmed.

Turning she found Atlas clutching the steering wheel, his forehead resting on his hands, eyes closed. Reaching across the seat, touching his shoulder “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” his head moving in a jerky nod, “you should drive.”

“Sure,” she said letting out a nervous giggle “I’m a better driver anyway.”

***

Atlas fumbled for his phone, his eyes half open, the blaring alarm assaulting his eardrums. “I hate morning,” he mumbled to himself as succeeded in turning the alarm off after hovering over the snooze option for longer than seemed humanly possible. Standing, he raised his arms above his head, stretching like a cat.

Shuffling towards the shared bathroom, scratching his head wishing they had gotten to the dorm earlier the night before. For as much as Ivy complained about his driving her’s was on par with a ninety year old without their glasses. Stepping into the shower he let the hot water pour off his head and face, hoping the heat and pressure would generate within him the energy he lacked.

Stepping from the shower, his face contorting as he yawned, “why did I agree to meeting them so early?” It was the same question he asked himself the night before when he slipped between the sheets for a few hours of sleep.

“Should have made it for noon or something,” he grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. “It’s a good thing being a tutor doesn’t rely upon looks.”

Checking the time, groaning when he realized he had less than fifteen minutes to make it across campus. “So much for breakfast,” he muttered as he pushed past his dorm mates as they made their slow progress into the showers.

Sprinting across the grounds he pushed open the doors just in time to find a student sitting at one of the tables picking at their nails. “Sssorry,” he gasped trying to catch his breath.

They looked up then down at the hands.

Approaching the table, Atlas pulled out a chair. Sitting down he held out his hand “I’m Atlas Weston.”

Staring at the hand inches from his face the student clasped it in a brief handshake, eyes glued to the table top.

“Uh ok,” Atlas clasped his hands in front of him, craning his neck to look around the room wondering if he had the wrong student. Seeing no one else he said “are you Brooks Mueller? I was to meet her to set up a tutoring schedule.”

Nodding Brooks glanced up and away just as quickly.

“You’re Brooks,” Atlas said, unsure whether he should be relieved or concerned. “Um well,” he looked around hoping to see a professor or someone in authority he could consult with. “Miss, are you alright? I could call someone…”

Brooks shook his head “he/him.”

“What?” Atlas stammered unsure if she was talking to him.

Looking up Brooks repeated “he/him. My preferred pronouns.”

“Oh,” Atlas felt his face flush “sorry I … didn’t know.”

“It’s alright,” Brooks said “I’m used to it.”

Leafing through his paperwork Atlas frowned “they should have noted your pronouns in here.” Wondering what else might be missing, he asked “do you even want a tutor?

“My parents think I need one,” Brooks said “along with other things.”

Snorting Atlas grinned “parents tend to think they know more about us then we do.” Atlas saw the corners of Brooks’ mouth lifted in a faint but amused smile. Closing his folder he pushed it away “why don’t you tell me what assistance you want from me.”

Thinking over his offer Brooks said “I do need help with reading and understanding directions.”

Nodding Atlas grinned “I can help you with that.”

“And I,” Brooks looked steadily at Atlas, “I could use a friend.”

“Well we’ll be spending a lot of time together,” Atlas said “I don’t see why we can’t be friends. So tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what,” Brooks asked.

Atlas could see the way Brooks’ eyes darted around the room wondering if he made him uncomfortable “well what type of music do you like?”

Letting out a relieved sigh “that’s not what I expected you to ask.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Atlas said “I like soft rock.”

“I prefer alternative rock,” Brooks said.

“Maybe you could suggest some bands for me to listen to,” Atlas said “maybe I’ll find something I like.”

“I’ll do better than that,” pulling out his phone he pulled up a playlist. Music blasted from the speaker.

A moment later someone approached “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Why?” Atlas asked.

“Students come here to study,” they explained.

“We’re the only ones here,” Atlas pointed out.

“Rules are rules,” the person said.

“Fine we’ll leave,” he agreed, pulling his phone out and handing it to Brooks “can I have your contact information?”

Walking from the building Brooks handed Atlas his phone back. “Thank you.”

Taking the phone Atlas looked down smiling as he saw that Brooks had added some songs for him to listen to. “For what?” he asked.

Glancing over his shoulder “for not asking a bunch of questions.” Seeing the confused expression on Atlas’s face Brooks continued “you know, about my preferred pronouns…”

“Oh that,” he shrugged. “I figured if you wanted to tell me you would and if not, it’s none of my business.”

Before Brooks could respond someone called his name, demanding his attention. “That’s my sister,” he mumbled to Atlas “I have to go.”

“I’ll see you later,” Atlas said as Brooks hurried to meet their sister.

Chapter 7 – Reluctant Volunteer

May24

Rose hummed to herself as she pulled items from her closet. She hadn’t planned on organizing her closet today but she needed to make room for the new items she purchased the day before. Then the minister’s sermon about the good samaritan prompted her to see if there was anything she could donate to the shelter. Of course the boy she met at the church came to mind and she had to admit her sudden interest in charity and church was partly due to her hopes of seeing him again.

“Knock knock,” someone said behind her.

“Oh hi Dad,” she turned, smiling at him.

“Did you buy that much,” Kade asked, teasing his daughter a little.

“You know me,” she said “I like to shop.”

“I hope your father’s credit card can handle it,” Kade said. “Did Brooks get anything?”

“A few things,” she shrugged.

“I suppose mostly baggy pants and t-shirts,” Kade said.

“You know Brooks, he likes what he likes,” she said.

Kade got a faraway look in his eyes “I remember when you were both little how you’d dress alike.”

“Daddy, Brooks isn’t doing this to hurt you,” she said, coming over to him.

“I know,” he acknowledged softly. “Brooks never liked it when we put her, I mean him, in a dress.” Swiping a hand across his eyes “I just don’t understand where we went wrong.”

“Daddy you didn’t do anything wrong,” Rose said, giving him a hug.

“Maybe I need therapy,” he said, hugging her back.

“It couldn’t hurt,” she quipped.

“I suppose not,” Kade said “I’d like to understand what she’s, I mean he’s going through.”

“Then I think you should,” she encouraged.

“So what are you going to do with all this stuff,” he asked.

“I’m going to donate it to the shelter,” she said.

Rubbing his chin “good idea. I think I’ll see if there’s anything your father and I could donate too.”

“Great,” she said moving back to her closet “there’s plenty of old guys who need clothes too.”

“Thanks a lot,” he chuckled.

“You know what I mean,” she called after him as he left her room.

***

Rose entered the shelter, her nose wrinkled at the scent of unwashed bodies assaulting her senses. Perhaps she should have brought along basic hygiene products too. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought about before, she’d always had everything she ever needed.

“Excuse me,” she said, approaching one of the servers as they replaced one of the tubs of food.

“You’re late,” the worker said, handing her the empty tub.

“What am I supposed to do with this,” she demanded but the worker wasn’t listening as they started serving the people in line.

Looking around, Rose wondered where she was supposed to put it. There were tables where people were sitting and eating. But she decided against that, she couldn’t put it on the counter as there wasn’t space. She walked through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

“Where do I…” her voice ground to a halt when Fox came into the kitchen from the back.

“Don’t just stand there,” someone yelled at her.

Jumping she bumped into a shelf sending a container of mustard to the floor.

“What’s the matter with you,” the same grumpy voice demanded. “Get a mop and clean that up.”

Rose clutched the dirty pan to her chest, her mouth flopping unable to form a coherent thought to save her life.

“Give her a break,” Fox said, coming to a stop beside her “I don’t think she belongs back here.”

“I um,” she looked at the floor “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Fox said, “it’s just mustard.”

Nodding Rose looked up, her heart kerplunking in her chest. “I wanted to donate some clothes to the shelter and I…” She held up the pan “someone gave me this and I don’t know..” She shrugged wishing she could just disappear. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s a bit chaotic during lunch,” Fox explained, taking the pan from her and leading the way to the sink where similar pans waited cleaning. He grabbed an apron “but if you wanted to help we could do with a dishwasher.”

She took the apron from his hands “I … um …” looking at the mountain of dishes she swallowed. “I guess I could load the dishwasher.”

Fox’s laughter filled the room and several of the workers turned to look at them. “You are the dishwasher.” Grinning he asked “you do know how to wash dishes?”

“Yeah sure,” she sounded doubtful as she began to tie the apron around her waist.

Shaking his head, Fox said “it’s ok. I was only teasing. You don’t have to do the dishes.”

“No,” Rose said firmly, “I want to help.”

***

Rose peeled the bright yellow gloves from her hands. She didn’t know what was worse, the smell or the sweat that made the gloves stick to her skin.

“Not exactly what you expected,” Fox said as he joined her.

“You better not be bringing more dirty dishes,” she said “and no, this is not what I expected to be doing today.” She couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his laughter. “How can you be so chipper after working like a dog?”

“I kind of smell like one too,” he said as he dunked his head under the faucet letting the cold water run over his head.

“Well…I wasn’t going to mention that,” she giggled.

“Why,” he grinned, winking at her as he shook his head sending a spray of cold water through the air.

“Stop,” she cried, holding her hands out in front of her as water sprayed her. “I probably smell like a dog too after slaving the afternoon away washing dishes.”

Sniffing “I was wondering what that smell was,” Fox said.

“You sir are no gentlemen,” she said as her face flushed.

“No, probably not,” Fox agreed. “I can show you where the donations go.”

“Donations?” she asked, confused.

“You said you brought some donations earlier,” he reminded her.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded “I did. I forgot.”

“We best get that taken care of before the supper rush starts,” he said moving towards the door.

“Do you do this everyday,” she asked following him.

“Just on my time off,” he said, leading the way to the parking lot. “Where are you parked?”

“This isn’t your job?” she asked. She walked over to her car and popped the trunk.

“No one gets paid for working at the shelter,” he explained. “Everyone you saw here today volunteers their time and money.”

“Really,” she said, sounding as surprised as she looked.

“Yes really,” Fox chuckled at her.

“You think I’m clueless don’t you?”

“Yeah a little,” he admitted, grabbing one of the boxes from the trunk.

Following him she said, “fine maybe I am.”

“No, maybe about it,” Fox said, setting the box down and went back out to retrieve the other box.

“What do you suppose I should do then?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “volunteer.”

“Will I be able to choose what I do?” she asked.

Shaking his head “nope, that’s up to the chef and he…”

“Doesn’t like me,” she finished.

“Fraid not,” Fox agreed.

***

“How was your day,” Grant asked as Rose joined them for supper.

Rose couldn’t hide the smile her lips persisted in making. “It was … interesting.”

“Uh huh,” Brooks said sitting next to her. “That smile says there’s a boy involved.”

“No there isn’t,” Rose denied covering her face as the cheesy grin on her face called her a liar.

Kade joined them “did you drop off the clothes at the shelter?”

“You went to the shelter,” Grant repeated, with raised eyebrows.

“Why is that so surprising?” Rose demanded sitting back glaring at her father.

“It’s not something you’ve ever been interested in before,” he said.

Brooks glanced over at his sister “is that the shelter the church runs? The one where you met that boy?”

“Oh,” Grant grinned, nodding “that makes sense.”

“Why is it that I do something good and you all think it’s because of some boy?”

“Because it almost always has something to do with a boy,” Grant told her.

Holding her hands out “well look at my hands. Have I ever done something like this to get the attention of some boy?”

Grant’s eyes swept over his daughter’s hands “looks like you ruined your manicure.”

“I washed a million dishes today,” she said “and I’m going to do it again tomorrow.”

Kade made a sound that sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “I hope that boy’s worth it.”

“Why doesn’t anyone believe I’m volunteering out of the generosity of my heart?” she demanded .

“Because we know you,” Brooks said.”There’s always a boy involved.”

“Alright, fine,” Rose made a face at Brooks “there is a boy but I don’t think he likes me.”

“Then there’s something wrong with him,” Grant said.

“He’s perfect,” Rose let out a dreamy sigh “the problem is me.”

“If he can’t see how good you are then he’s the problem,” Grant said.

“He volunteers his free time helping at the shelter,” Rose said “and he probably thinks I’m a spoiled brat because I didn’t even know people did that. I thought they got paid.”

Kade gave her a sympathetic look “you’ll learn.”

Nodding she grinned “that’s why I’m going back. I’m going to wash another million dishes.”

“He must be something special,” Brooks said “for you to risk ruining your hands.”

“Oh he is,” Rose affirmed “but I’m not doing this because of him. I really want to help those people.”

“Maybe we could all volunteer as a family,” Kade suggested.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Rose enthused, “I’ll check into it.”

Chapter 6 – The Trouble With Basil

May17

Basil came skipping into the kitchen expecting to have the house to himself. He came to a screeching halt when he came face to face with his parents. “Shit,” he mumbled when he saw his plans for the day going up in smoke.

“Good morning to you too,” Aubrey dead panned, squeezing her wife’s hand.

Kaia’s hand jerked within the vice grip hold. Frowning “are you planning on sleeping your life away?”

“Is that an option?” Basil demanded returning her frown with one of his own.

“There’s pancakes and I can make some coffee,” Aubrey offered, moving to get up.

“You’re not his maid,” Kaia said, holding onto her hand. “He can make his own coffee.”

“Pfft,” he rolled his eyes, “it’s a little late for the tough love act.”

“You know something,” Kaia said standing up “you’re right. It is too late.”

He blinked at her, shock stealing the smart ass words he might have said.

“That’s right,” Kaia said, facing her son “the next time you do something stupid we’re not going to come to the rescue. You can sit in jail for all I care.”

“Yeah right,” he scoffed.

“I mean it,” she said.

Basil’s eyes moved between his parents. He could see shock in Aubrey’s eyes but there was a resolute firmness in Kaia’s. “I’ll pay you back,” he said “you don’t have to go all Rambo on me.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Kaia said, her anger draining away “and each time you skip out on your responsibilities. Break your promises.”

“I will,” he said firmly even though he could see the doubt in both his parents eyes “this time I will.”

Shaking her head Kaia said “forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“Is this because I don’t want to go on that date you set up,” he demanded.

“I’m done,” Kaia said walking from the room.

Aubrey stared after her wife, her face twisting as her conflicting emotions warred inside her. “You’re impossible,” she said glaring at her son.

“I’m never going to be the perfect son,” he said, ready to launch into the same old argument.

“She doesn’t expect perfection,” she said.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, shoving pancakes into his mouth.

“You have to start taking things seriously,” she said, trying to figure out a way to get through to him.

“I do take things seriously,” he said.

“You don’t,” she said. “You quit everything you start. You steal. You …”

“Yeah yeah I’m a serious screw up,” he said.

“Then what are you going to do about it,” she demanded.

“Nothing,” he said “I’m not the one who has a problem with it. You do. So I guess that makes it a, you problem.”

***

Kaia looked up when her office door opened and Aubrey’s curly blond head came into view. “Did you talk to him?”

“I got no further than you did,” Aubrey sighed, perching on the side of one of the chairs. “What are we going to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Kaia said. “It’s time we let him suffer the consequences of his actions.”

“But…”

Kaia shook her head “we’ve shielded him for far too long as it is. We’re only enabling him now.”

“He’s not a bad kid,” Aubrey said.

Leaning her head back “I never said he was.”

“We can’t just give up on him,” Aubrey sniffed.

Opening her eyes Kaia sighed “I didn’t say that either.”

“Then what are we going to do?” Aubrey asked.

“I don’t know,” Kaia said. “I’m the mayor of an entire town. Everyone comes to me when there’s a problem and I don’t know what to do about my own son. I’ve never been at a complete loss for anything, not even when we had those brush fires last year.”

“And we’ll figure this out too,” Aubrey asserted with the same positivity she had when she was a cheerleader cheering on the team even when they were trailing behind by twenty points.

“You’re right,” Kaia agreed, “but we can’t force him to honor the terms of the raffle.”

“But Ivy would be so good for him,” Aubrey said.

“Ivy’s too smart to be interested in our smart ass son,” Kaia said.

“You know what they say,” Aubrey said with a grin spreading across her face.

“Aubrey no,” she shook her head but couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her wife’s contagious optimism.

“Opposites attract,” Aubrey said “she just needs a little encouragement.”

“I don’t think we can count on our friendship with her parents to sway her,” Kaia said “Ivy has a mind of her own.”

“I know,” Aubrey said “but I have to try.”

***

“Mrs Rake,” Ivy said holding the door open “were my parents expecting you?”

“No,” Aubrey glanced over the young woman’s shoulder “I actually came by to talk to you.”

“Why? You have more raffle tickets to sell me,” Ivy asked as the door closed a few inches, Good manners keeping her from closing the door in the face of one of her parents oldest friends.

“Yeah about that,” Aubrey sighed “look I’m sorry. I know it was a rotten thing for me to do.”

“It was,” she agreed.

“Can we talk? Inside,” Aubrey said, stepping forward.

Short of pushing the older woman out Ivy had no other option but to step aside and let her in. “Alright but I want you to know that I’m not going on a date with him.”

Aubrey nodded as she walked past the girl towards the living room.

Following her into the living room Ivy crossed her arms “I mean it. I’m not dating him.”

“I heard you,” Aubrey said, crossing her legs “and it’s just one date.”

“Whatever,” Ivy mumbled, rolling her eyes.

“Sit,” Aubrey invited, waving a hand towards an empty seat.

“Look I don’t want to be rude,” Ivy said “but I have things to do.”

“I’m just asking for ten minutes,” Aubrey said unfazed by the girl.

“Fine,” Ivy moved towards a chair and sat down.

“I’m sorry for manipulating you into buying those raffle tickets,” Aubrey said.

“I knew it,” Ivy sat up. “I knew it was rigged.”

“I hope you can forgive me,” Aubrey said, picking at nonexistent lint.

“Why’d you do it,” Ivy asked “Basil doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who needs help dating.”

“It’s not the dating part I was hoping to help him with,” Aubrey said, meeting the girl’s eyes. “I was hoping if he dated someone like you who had their life together then…”

“Then what? I’d rub off on him,” Ivy couldn’t help but laugh “sorry but I don’t think that’s how it works. If it was, Atlas would be a lot more like me than he is and my parents would be ecstatic.”

“I know dear,” Aubrey said “and that’s not exactly what I meant. I just hoped that it’d give my son a reason to change. A kind of nudge in the right direction.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow “just how much trouble is he in?”

“I didn’t say he was,” but her frustration was obvious.

“Uh huh,” Ivy had heard some of her parents’ conversations and she’d heard enough to know part of their concern for her brother was their fear he’d become like Basil.

Getting up “never mind dear, I can see now that it was a bad idea.”

Following Aubrey to the door Ivy surprised herself by saying “I’ll do it.”

“Do what,” Aubrey asked, pausing by the door.

“Go on a date with Basil,” Ivy said “I won’t promise more than one though.” She didn’t add that she was curious.

“If you’re sure,” Aubrey said, trying not to show her excitement.

“As long as he asks me,” she amended.

“I’ll have to see what he wants,” Aubrey said “he wasn’t very happy about the whole raffle thing.”

“No, I don’t imagine he was,” Ivy agreed, recalling the murderous look he was giving everyone when the raffle winner was announced.

***

Aubrey was humming softly to herself when she entered her house. Not even the sullen face of her son could bring her spirits down.

“I want to talk to you,” Aubrey said, coming to sit down close to her son.

“Didn’t you say enough this morning?”

“No,” she said softly.

Basil’s face softened; he hated it when Aubrey gave him that look. The look that said she loved him even though he disappointed her. It was easier to defy Kaia; especially when she had her mayor’s face on. Which she usually did whenever he was in her presence. “I can’t just date some girl I don’t even know,” he grumbled.

“When did that ever stop you?” she asked her eyes saying she knew more about his exploits then she cared to admit.

He looked away, “she’s not my type.”

The room filled with her soft laughter. “That never stopped you either. So why don’t you tell me the real reason you don’t want to go on this date.”

He squirmed in his chair, shrugging “I can’t afford to.”

“That’s easily remedied,” she reached for her purse.

“No Mom,” he gently touched her hand. “That won’t be enough.”

“How expensive do you think a first date should be,” she asked. She saw a glint of what she could only describe as a flash of fear in his eyes. Clasping her purse close to her “why don’t you tell me what’s really going on.”

Basil shook his head “you’ll tell mother and I don’t need her yelling at me right now.”

“How much do you owe?”

Staring at his hands in his lap “what makes you think I owe anything?”

“Basil I’m not stupid,” she rubbed the ache beginning to throb behind her temples. “You stole money from the town treasury. It must be a lot.”

“I thought it would be enough,” he said “but with interest…”

“Interest,” she repeated, “don’t tell me you owe money to loan sharks.”

“I needed the money…”

“Baso;, how much do you owe,” she demanded, fear creeping into her voice as images of large men with baseball bats battering down her front door in the middle of the night to beat her son up came to mind.

“Enough,” he mumbled, “enough that I don’t want to be seen around town on a date.”

“You told us you stopped gambling,” her voice quivered with emotion.

“I did but,” he leaned forward resting his head in his hands “but I still owe a lot of money.”

“Which is why you moved back home,” she said.

“I sold everything I had,” he said “it bought me some time but they sent some guys.”

Nodding “which is why you stole the money.”

“I was desperate,” he said, lifting his eyes “I’m sorry.”

“Save the sorry for later,” Aubrey said “What you need to do now is tell me everything you owe before you wake up in the hospital.”

“What about Mother,” he said, “she said she was done.”

“That was before she knew a bunch of loan sharks were after her son,” Aubrey said. “Do you really think she’s going to let anything bad happen to you?”

Chapter 5 – The Raffel Ticket

May10

The wind lifted and pulled at Stella’s hair as she stood alone on the pier overlooking the beach. Usually there would be people sunbathing and children playing in the water or making sandcastles. Not today. Everyone was at the carnival. Of course she’d planned on being there herself except now she and Brad were no longer a couple.

A small sigh escaped her. She looked around to make sure no one heard it. She was alone except for the young man at the other end of the pier and it was doubtful he had heard her. Puzzled, she drifted towards him.

“I thought everyone would be at the carnival today,” she said as she neared him. He didn’t appear to have heard her even though she was now only a few feet away from him.

Concentrating on the canvas in front of him, he started to backup, like he was trying to see something no one else could. So engrossed in what he was looking at he stumbled into Stella.

“Oww,” she cried, pushing him away from her.

“Sssorry,” he stammered, giving her a wide eyed look of terror.

“Those were my toes you smashed,” she said lifting one foot to rub the offended toes. “And I just got a pedicure.”

He gulped “sssorry,” he repeated.

“You darn well should be, you big oaf,” she said.

“I um…” but the rest was lost to a high pitched whistling that stole his breath away. His hands patted his pockets desperately searching for something.

Her tender toes forgotten, Stella darted for his art supplies. Her eyes found the inhaler almost as soon as her fingers grasped it. “Here,” she thrust her hand towards him.

He clutched the inhaler with both hands bringing it to his lips. He dragged in the mist, his body visibly relaxing. “Thanks,” his voice was hoarse and raspy.

“Are you okay?” she asked looking around at the vacant pier and beach ‘I could call for an ambulance.”

“No,” he shook his head “I’m okay.”

Sitting back “you’re sure?” To her untrained eyes he didn’t look well. “Maybe I could call someone to come get you.”

Shaking his head, he put his inhaler in his pocket. “I’m okay really.”

“If you’re sure,” she said, watching him carefully.

He went back to his painting, making sure not to get close enough to tread upon her toes again. “I should be going anyway.”

Nodding towards his painting “that’s really good. Are you an artist?”

“Ttthanks,” he stammered. “Would you like to have it?”

Shaking her head “oh no, you should keep it.”

“No take it,” he insisted “I have others.”

“Okay, thank you,” she agreed, taking the picture as he hurried past her.

It was only later that she realized she didn’t know his name and she really wanted to know who he was.

***

Hurry up,” Ivy said as her fist pounded on her brother’s door.

“I thought you didn’t want to go this year,” Atlas said, opening his door before his annoying little sister could knock on it one more time.

“That was before I had to buy these raffle tickets,” she said “I have to at least find out if I won.”

“What were the raffle tickets for?” Atlas asked, following her down the hallway.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “probably for some old patchwork quilt someone’s grandma made.”

Snorting Atlas said “not exactly your cup of tea is it?”

“Well…no,” she agreed.

“Then why worry if you won or not?”

Rolling her eyes “because whoever made it put time and energy into it.”

“So you’re going for appearances sake,” Atlas surmised.

“We’re going to be doctors in this town,” Ivy said “it’s important to have a good reputation if you want people to trust you with their lives.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled beneath his breath.

She gave him a sharp look “people are less likely to file malpractice suits if they like you.”

“I thought that’s why doctors have malpractice insurance,” he said.

“Unless you get too many claims and the insurance company refuses to cover you,” she snapped.

“And I suppose you think that’ll happen to me,” he said.

“If you don’t start putting more effort into your work,” she said. She couldn’t cover the hint of pride in her voice as if she knew it wouldn’t happen to her.

“All doctors make mistakes,” he pointed out “or are you going to be the exception?” He’d heard enough late night discussions between his parents discussing patients they felt they could have helped if they had suggested a different procedure.

Stopping, she turned to face him “I’m not saying I’ll be perfect but I’ll certainly not be relying upon AI for my prognosis.”

“I did that once,” Atlas said knowing his sister would never let him live that down “and I wasn’t even in college yet.”

“You better not,” she said over her shoulder, “or you won’t live long enough for mom and dad to kill you.”

Atlas stepped around his sister, hoping the discomfort he felt from her words didn’t show on his face. The urge to tell her, anyone really, that he didn’t want to be a doctor like his parents was almost overwhelming.

“What?” she demanded, following him.

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

“If you need help,” she said, opening the passenger side door “all you have to do is ask. I’m sure mom and dad would be able to arrange a tutor.”

“I don’t need a tudor,” he snapped.

“Then what is it?” she demanded.

Huffing he looked away “just get in the car.”

Shrugging “don’t say I didn’t try.”

“What,” he asked in disbelief.

“To help,” she said, slipping into the passenger seat.

“Right,” he sighed knowing that whatever he told her would go in one ear and into his parent’s ears. And he wasn’t ready to have that conversation.

***

Atlas grunted as his sister’s elbow jabbed his side. “What did I do?” he demanded, rubbing his side.

“Don’t say it,” she glared at him, the glint in her eyes daring him to speak.

Atlas brought hand up to cover the smile he felt tugging at his lips but nothing could disguise the chuckle that bubbled up from inside him.

“Argh,” she groaned, “you’re impossible.”

“I’m not the one who bought raffle tickets not knowing what it was for,” he stepped back to avoid the next jab at his ribs.

“I had no way of knowing,” she cried as if he were accusing her of a crime.

“Didn’t you even ask?”

“No,” she rolled her eyes. “I assumed it was for some arts and crafts thing.”

“You know what they say,” Atlas chuckled, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“What,” she scowled at him.

“Nevermind,” he shook his head, deciding not to add insult to injury. “Your prize may not be a quilt but it’s very eye-catching.”

Holding out her winning raffle ticket “maybe you want to collect it.”

“Oh no,” he pushed the ticket away. “you’re the big winner.”

“But you just said,,,”

“So? That doesn’t mean I want it anymore than you,” Atlas said.

Frowning “I think you should take it, afterall you haven’t been on a date, ever.”

Shrugging “doesn’t mean I want one.”

Blinking “is something wrong with you?”

“This isn’t about me,” Atlas frowned.

“Why don’t you date,” she asked, frowning at the winning raffle ticket as if it had the answer.

“I’ve dated,” he mumbled, looking away, not wanting to get into a discussion about how uncomfortable dates always made him. The expectations that he always failed to meet.

“In the past,” she pointed out, like it was a defect in his design.

“I’m still not going to take that raffle ticket,” he said “you can keep that pleasure.”

“I already know he doesn’t like me,” she cried. “Please take the raffle ticket.”

“Nope you bought it,” he shook his head. “Besides I thought you said the mayor’s son was hot.”

“He is,” she sighed knowing she was defeated “it doesn’t mean I want to date him.”

“It’s one date,” Atlas said “it’s not a proposal.”

***

Basil couldn’t decide which was worse, the way Ivy stalled to come forward to claim her prize or the way his parents grinned like the cat who ate the cheese.

The polite applause and the disappointed groans of some in the audience did little to appease his ego. He glanced towards his mother, the mayor of Appaloosa Plains as she rambled on about how the proceeds of the raffle would go to the community garden and the food shelter. His parents were all about worthy causes, unfortunately for Blair he had the uncomfortable feeling he was counted among those causes.

“This wasn’t my idea,” he mumbled low enough for only Ivy to hear.

Rolling her eyes, Ivy bit her tongue.

“You don’t like me much, do you?”

She cocked her chin upwards, studying him. “Not much,” she conceded.

His laughter rumbled over his mother’s concluding words earning him a glare. “The feelings are mutual.”

“Good to know,” Ivy muttered as he moved stiffly away, her chin up as if declaring to everyone how much above she was the unpleasant situation she found herself in.

Striding across the stage, Kaia demanded “are you proud of yourself?”

He stared at his mother for a split second before, shrugging and looking away. “This was humiliating.”

“It’s for a good cause,” she said, launching into all the good things they would be able to do with the money raised.

Rolling his head in a disgusted circle “spare me the details.”

“If you didn’t want to do this you should have said so,” she said, her voice a mixture of disappointment and anger.

“You didn’t say you were going to auction me off like cattle,” he complained.

“We told you,” Aubrey said, coming to a stop beside her wife.

“No you didn’t,” Basil contradicted.

“We did,” Kaia said, “as usual you weren’t listening.”

“I think I’d have listened if you had told me I was the prize,” he insisted.

Aubrey sighed “you agreed to do this.”

“When,” he demanded belligerently as usual.

“When we caught you stealing from the city treasury,” Kaia said, looking around to make sure they were alone.

“Oh,” he said deflating beneath his parent’s disapproving gazes.

***

Temperance exchanged glances with her husband when they heard their daughter calling for them before the door even closed behind her. “You’re home early,” she said as her daughter stomped into the room.

Stopping Ivy stood with her hands on hips, glaring at her parents. “You did this, didn’t you?”

Will shook his head, setting his reading glasses on the end table. “I haven’t got the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.” Turning to his wife “do you?”

“No,” Temperance set her medical journal on her lap. “Maybe you should explain.”

“It’s all your fault,” Ivy raged at Atlas who chuckled incautiously behind her. “They couldn’t control you so they think they can manipulate me.”

“We’re not manipulating anyone,” Temperance snapped.

“Oh really,” Ivy huffed, “then what do you call this?” She waved her ‘prize’ in the air.

“Oh you won the raffle,” Temperance said smiling.

“As if you didn’t know,” Ivy huffed “you and the mayor rigged it so I’d win.”

“Why would I do that,” Temperance asked, her smile fading beneath the heat of her daughter’s laser-like glare.

Rolling her eyes “because you and the mayor are friends. Because you’ve been after me to have a little fun.” She flung her hands in the air “why else would you have sent me over to their house but to have Aubrey force me into buying those raffle tickets.”

“That doesn’t mean it was rigged,” her dad pointed out reasonably.

“Yeah right,” she shook her head “that’s just a little too convenient.”

“It’s the truth,” Temperance said “we’d never set you up with someone.”

Some of her anger drained from her “you’re sure you didn’t know?”

“Of course we didn’t know,” Temperance said. Turning to her husband “I wonder what they would have done if someone’s grandma had won?”

“Well I’m not doing it,” Ivy announced.

“Why not?” Temperance asked, “it’s just one date.”

“Because Basil is an insufferable snob,” Ivy said.

“You don’t even know him,” Will said.

“I know I don’t like him,” she said walking from the room, ending the discussion.

	dandylion240 on Chapter 13 – Big Brother…
	simscognito on Chapter 13 – Big Brother…
	simscognito on Chapter 12 – Small …
	dandylion240 on Chapter 12 – Small …
	simscognito on Chapter 12 – Small …

Not So Ordinary Life Extras

Where the extras come to live to tell their stories