Home > Southern Sunshine (Southern #8)(13)

Southern Sunshine (Southern #8)(13)
Author: Natasha Madison

 

* * *

 

"Why don’t we go and snuggle and watch a movie, and then we can have some cookies and milk?" I pick her up, and she puts her head on my shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Walking up the stairs, I pass my grandfather's room. The door is closed, but I know I’m going to have to open it sooner rather than later. The floor creaks when I walk into my bedroom. I set Sofia on the bed and take off her boots, and she crawls to the middle of the bed. The iPad sits on my dresser, and I use it to find one of her shows. I press play, and by the time I lie down next to her, she’s already asleep. Grabbing my old blanket, I cover her and softly kiss her cheek.

 

* * *

 

I leave the iPad playing and sneak out of the room as quietly as I can, turning back and looking at her every single time the floor creaks to make sure she stays asleep. I pull the door but leave it open just a touch.

 

* * *

 

Walking down the steps, I make my way to the kitchen, grabbing the kettle and putting it on the burner. Turning the knob, I listen for the click of the gas stove. I get my cup out and put a tea bag in it.

 

* * *

 

Looking over at the table, I have my laptop and the stack of bills that Mr. Devlyn gave me when I left. The kettle whistles, and I pour the boiling water into the mug, suddenly wishing I bought a bottle of wine or maybe two when we were out.

 

* * *

 

Sitting down, I place the tea in front of me and let out a huge breath. Pulling the blue elastic off the stack of letters, I open the first bill, and my eyes go from the top where the supplier name is to the red “past due” stamped in the middle to the bottom where the amount is. I repeat the process until the stack is all opened.

 

* * *

 

My head is spinning now when I see how much is owed. The biggest one from the hospital and then the hospice care. I close my eyes when I get to the bank one. Not only did he take a mortgage out on the house but he also took a second mortgage on that one.

 

* * *

 

Opening my laptop, I start entering things, and my head is spinning as I think about how the fuck I’m going to make it out of this debt. Not even sure selling the farm will cover it.

 

* * *

 

The sound of a truck door closing has me looking up, and my heart’s starting to beat faster and faster when I hear a soft knock on the door. This is it, I think to myself and look down. My blue jeans fit like a glove, which surprised me since they were from high school, and I have that on with a button-down plaid shirt. If you didn’t know any better, you would think I lived here full-time.

 

* * *

 

I take a deep breath and turn the lock on the door and open it. Casey is standing at the bottom of the porch now, and he’s looking down. He looks up when he hears the door open. "Hey," he says, and I swallow and wonder if he can tell I’m nervous.

 

* * *

 

Knowing I was coming here was one thing, but seeing Reed’s family was a whole different ball game. "Hi." I smile back at him and walk out of the house, closing the door behind me. “Billy said you would be …" I start to say, and then the world crashes around me. The passenger door opens, and I have to hold the doorframe when I see him. The man who changed my life without so much as a second thought. The man who gave me the best gift I’ve ever received in my life, then broke my heart. I lean back on the door for support as I look at him. I always thought I would see him again one day. This scenario played over and over in my head over the years, but none of them were like this. None of them were here on the same farm that it ended just as soon as it started. No, in my head, I would be dressed up, and he would be sorry, not me in my old high school clothes.

 

* * *

 

“Holy shit,” Reed says, smiling, and I take him in. Everything inside me goes stiff as my head screams out. All the images I had in my head were wrong. They were of a different person because the person standing in front of me isn’t him. He’s bigger, much bigger. His hair looks the same, and when he puts his glasses on his head, his eyes are more dangerous than the last time I looked into them. "I didn’t know you would be here." He puts his hands on his hips, which makes his arms even bigger.

 

* * *

 

There is so much I want to say to him, and none of it good, but right now, I just need him gone. The thought of Sofia getting up and walking outside is too much for me to handle. My knees are literally one second away from giving out. My mouth is so dry, and the heat from the sun is making me feel like I’m going to have heatstroke. Focus, my head tells me. Yes, just focus. “Here I am,” I say, my tone tight. I look back at Casey, who is standing there looking at me. “Billy said you would be passing by."

 

* * *

 

I can feel Reed staring at me and feel the pull to look back at him. "I’m sorry about your grandfather," Casey says, and I just nod at him. “Before I even offer you anything, would it be okay if we took a look around?"

 

* * *

 

"That’s fine,” I say. “I don’t know how safe the barn is. We …" I stop myself. “I was going in there yesterday, and a family of raccoons chased me out,” I say, and Casey smiles at me.

 

* * *

 

"Since when are you afraid of raccoons?" Reed asks, and I just look over at him.

 

* * *

 

"Things change." I look back at Casey, and he looks from me to Reed, then back over at me. I’ve never really had a conversation with him. Usually, it was just a hello in passing or taking his glass from him at the bar when I worked there.

 

* * *

 

"I’ll take a look around and come back over tomorrow. We can sit down then and see what we can do."

 

* * *

 

"Okay,” I say, turning and opening the door. I step inside without even saying goodbye. My heart hammers in my chest, and I close the door and slowly sink to the floor. "This is not good,” I say, looking over at the window when I hear them walk around. “This is not good at all."

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

Reed

The door closes behind her, and I look over at my father, who just shakes his head. “What the hell was that?" I ask, pointing at the door.

"Son …" He tries not to laugh. “I’ve been with your mother for over twenty years. I’ve gotten many looks in that time, but that"—he points at the door—"was a woman who is pissed. And I know a pissed-off woman when I see one." I open my mouth and then close it. “I don’t know what you did to her, but if she had a gun, she would have put a bullet in your foot."

"I’ve been gone for six years." My hands are still on my hips, and my feet are glued to the ground. I stay here waiting for her to open the door and come back out and be like, just kidding. I look at my father, who starts walking toward the barn, and back at the door that she just slammed in my face.

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