Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 85561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
It was what I deserved.
I didn't even recognize the man who’d left Brooks sitting on that barn floor without a word. Being with Brooks like that had been one of the most incredible experiences of my entire life, and I’d walked away from him like it'd been nothing. Like he was nothing.
My mother might have struck Brooks, but I’d done far more damage with my cruelty. I had no excuses for my behavior. There was no way Brooks was going to understand the stark fear that I’d felt in that moment after he’d straddled my lap and we slowly kissed. I'd never dreamed of finding someone like Brooks. He was everything I’d ever wanted in a sexual partner…. but it was so much more than that, and that was the part that had scared the hell out of me.
I turned my attention to my mother's car and searched out her purse. I found the little bottle of pills I was looking for and took two out and handed them to her. "Here, these will make you feel better."
My mother's hand shook as she accepted them and slipped them into her mouth. "Where's Sara?" she asked again, her voice shaky and terrified. Even though I was her son, I knew she would never believe me until she saw for herself.
"She's in the barn. Come on, I'll show you."
Now that my mother had had a chance to calm down somewhat, the tension that had become a normal thing between us returned. She took a few steps away from me as we walked, and she kept shifting her eyes in every direction but mine. She rarely ever looked at me anymore. When she did, her eyes were usually wary.
It was just more proof that I really wasn't the man I’d been before I'd gone to prison.
We found Sara and Curtis in Millie’s stall. My younger sister was happily petting Millie's baby. She had a smile on her face, but there was no laughter, no sound. Sara wasn't much of a talker, and I couldn't really blame her. While I’d been stuck in prison, she’d been sentenced to life with my mother. If she’d had the same mother I'd had at her age, things would've been different. But the woman who'd raised her was a woman who'd been scarred by the events of the night that had changed all our lives.
The psychiatrist I'd talked to about my mother after I'd gotten out of prison had said she’d probably been bipolar her entire life, but that the disorder had become more prominent over time. He’d prescribed medication for her, as well as therapy, but it was hard for me to know if she was following through on either of those things. My job at the ranch meant that I couldn't get down to Eden to check on my sister and mother on more than a weekly basis. When I did get down there, I helped my mother clean the house and stocked up on groceries. Her paycheck from the diner she worked at didn't go far, so I spent a good chunk of mine to make sure she and Sara had everything they needed. My mother's behavior in the months since I’d gotten released had seemed to stabilize somewhat, but from the way she’d reacted to seeing Brooks, it was clear she wasn't doing as well as I'd hoped.
Curtis eyed me as we entered the stall and I nodded my head at him in the hopes of conveying the message that things were okay at the moment. Curtis knew a little bit about what I was going through with my mother, but I hadn't told him everything.
Curtis spoke to my mother about unimportant things while I went to my sister and knelt down in front of her. She had my mother's delicate features, but there was a quietness about her that had nothing to do with genes. I hated that she had to go through all this at such a young age and by herself, but the options were limited. My hope was to be able to move them both up to the ranch once I had the foreman's house complete, but I had to both convince my mother of the plan and get Curtis's permission. I also had a lot of details to work out about things like Sara's school and Mom's work. Commuting down the mountain every day, especially when winter arrived, wouldn’t be ideal. I knew when I did talk to my mother about them living with me, her fear of me would very likely color her answer.
So I was taking things slow in trying to rebuild a relationship with her so I could make us a family again. But Sara was the one who was suffering, if my mother's recent behavior was anything to go by. At ten years old, Sara was carrying way too much responsibility. I knew she was the one who tried to make sure my mother took her medicine. And God forbid if my mother had one of her attacks out in public because it would be left on Sara to try to calm her down.