Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 21010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
I turn my truck off and approach. I’m dressed more like myself today. Long-sleeve button-down shirt, jeans, a cowboy hat to keep the autumn sun out of my eyes. The leaves crumple under my boots as I walk up to the door and prepare to face the judgment and wrath of the McCormick family.
Dad didn’t raise any cowards, though. I use the door knocker, the impact loud enough that it can’t be missed.
From one of the side windows, I see an older man look through. He sees me, and his expression turns sour immediately.
He cracks open the front door, peering through the crack. “Nicole’s busy.”
Fine, he wants to do this? I’ll play hardball. “When will she be ready?”
“She’s busy all day. She told me to tell you to go away and never contact her again.”
“You’re an awful liar, you know that?”
I hear a door slam in the distance. Nicole appears around the corner of the house — she must have come out a side door.
She’s fucking gorgeous as ever, especially now that she isn’t in an avocado costume. Her hair is done up in playful pigtails, and she’s wearing a modest blue dress with a white striped sweater underneath, and a pair of thigh-high socks. I can’t help but let my eyes roll up her legs. I want to see a lot more of her, yes, but it’s a tad too cold, I guess, to show off any skin.
“Dad, what are you doing?”
“I’m getting rid of a door-to-door salesman. Go back inside, Nicole.”
“Dad, I told you I had plans with Nelson today. Why are you being such an asshole?”
“You can do better than a piece-of-trash Rowdy, my little girl.”
“Piece of trash?” I spit. “Who the hell are you calling a piece of trash?”
“You. The Rowdy boy. Don’t you have some cow dung to go shovel up? You look like you’re dressed for it.”
Nicole stomps her foot. It’s pouty and adorable, but nothing else about this situation is worthy of that word. “Dad, stop! I think he’s dressed nicely.”
“I thought I raised my daughter to have better taste than this. Not to be rolling around on the ground with uneducated rednecks.”
“Uneducated?” Hearing him talk like this to me is especially jarring. It’s wrong about me, and it’s wrong about the rest of my family too. “Sir, I don’t like being talked down to like that.”
“You can do way better, Nicole. I can fix you up with some nice boys. Sons of some of our clients.”
“Dad, shut up,” she says. “I don’t want to see some stuffy rich brat.”
“So you’re going to lie down with dogs and get fleas instead?”
“Sir,” I say, showing him the slightest bit more respect than he’s showing me. “My brother is a mechanic and a genius at what he does. My father is probably a better businessman than you are, and went to college to learn how to manage a modern ranch. I followed in his footsteps, and I paid my way through college.”
I feel myself getting heated as I talk, realizing just how out of line this guy is.
“If you’re suggesting we’re dumb, ignorant rednecks, then you must think everyone who doesn’t have a seven-digit net worth is a dumb, ignorant redneck. We’re hard-working people. We’re smart and clever in our own ways, and we know smart doesn’t always mean making it inside some corporate boardroom.”
“You can teach a dog a few tricks, but it doesn’t mean that they’re smarter than any other mutt.”
I throw my hands up and I snap. “I see now why this dumbass feud has kept up for so long. It’s because stuffy wannabe aristocrats like yourself can’t ever step back and realize that they’re full of shit. You can’t respect someone who makes less money than you. Is that it, Mr. McCormick? I’m not highbrow enough for your daughter?”
“You got a lot of nerve talking to me like that, you idiot redneck.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you’re so much fucking better. Still fighting a fight that was started over a hundred years ago by a dirt farmer that was your ancestor, who didn’t know any more than how to dig a hole in the ground and care for it until something grew.”
I spit on the ground.
“I got a lot more respect for that guy than I have for you, Mr. McCormick.”
“Typical Rowdy bravado. You’re pathetic.”
I stare at him. I’m red in the face. If I keep at this, I’m going to give him a good reason to keep this feud going, because I’m going to break his neck.
I glance toward Nicole. I can see she’s disheartened by this spat.
So I walk away. I breathe deep. Let him have the last word, because ultimately, it’s meaningless.
I get to my truck, and Nicole pursues me. “Nelson, I’m sorry.”
I open the door, seething. “Leave me be. I work too damn hard to be treated like this. My father works too hard. My brothers work too hard.” I get in, slam the door and start the engine.