lean back against the wooden headboard. She hands me a small white pill and a glass of water.
“How’s your hand feeling?” she asks, examining the brace.
I shrug. “It’s fine I guess.” I hand her back the glass and lie down. I catch her as she’s about to leave the room. “Do you think that if I’m feeling better tomorrow we can make the insurance calls and you can help me look for a place?”
A smile spreads across her face. “Of course, sweet girl.”
I return her smile and close my eyes and drift off to sleep. I wake with tears streaming down my face and my chest heaving. I sit up and catch my breath, and notice that the room is dark. I look out the window when I hear the slamming of a car door and voices below.
Two men get out of a sleek, black sports car and greet Dean. Carrying cases of beer, they walk towards the barn. I watch until I lose sight of them walking to the open field.
I head downstairs into the kitchen, I’m greeted by Emily and Keith sitting at the table. They both smile when they see me but their smile quickly fades.
“What’s wrong?” I tilt my head and ask. Pulling out a chair, I sit down next to Emily and prop my elbows on the table.
“Phoebe, is everything all right?” She places her hand on mine. Keith’s lips are pressed in a hard line and he doesn’t look happy.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“For starters, your eyes are puffy and you have mascara running down your cheeks,” Emily says, concern fills her tone.
Shit! I forgot about the dream and I didn’t even clean myself up. These people must think I’m nuts for walking around looking like this. I rush to the sink and wash my face to remove the black, dried makeup that stains my face and run my fingers through my hair to tame any fly-aways.
“Sorry, I had a dream about my dad and woke up crying. I haven’t had a dream about him in years.” I sit back down and watch as their expressions change from concerned to sorrow.
Emily gets up and pulls a plate out of the microwave and sets it down in front of me. Steam rises from the food and fills my nose. As if on cue, my stomach growls loud enough to wake anyone within a mile radius. We share a laugh, and I dig into the pot roast and potatoes.
I feel like I’m on display at a zoo. Both sets of eyes are fixed on me while I eat. Emily breaks the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?” Emily asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be fine.” And I will be.
“Okay, well after you eat, why don’t we get you cleaned up?” She offers.
“Sounds good,” I finish cleaning my plate and lounge back in the seat. Keith has a pleased smile on his face and Emily takes my dish to the sink.
I’m about to stand when the door opens and laughter fills the room. The boys stop in their tracks when they see the three of us glaring at them.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery,” the tall one says.
Keith stays quiet and glares at Dean. Did I miss something? He doesn’t look too pleased with his son, and it looks like the feeling is mutual.
“Hi, Austin. Jake,” Emily says, greeting the boys with a hug.
All eyes focus on me and nobody says anything for a minute. Suddenly, I feel self-conscious, and run my hand through my hair and across my face in case there is something stuck to it. I’m surprised when Dean breaks the silence. “Guys, this is Bar—Phoebe,” he catches himself before calling me that stupid name.
The boys say nothing until Dean hits the tall one in the arm. “Hi, Phoebe,” he says and takes a step forward to shake my hand. “I’m Jake,” he offers.
I shake his hand and notice the other one following suit. His icy blue eyes hypnotize me and for a second I’m lost. “Hi, I’m Austin,” he says in a deep southern drawl.
“Hi,” is all I manage to say because my mouth instantly goes dry.
Jake is good looking in his own right. He’s shorter than Dean and Austin, and I can see blonde hair peeking out from under his brown cowboy hat. But
“How’s your hand feeling?” she asks, examining the brace.
I shrug. “It’s fine I guess.” I hand her back the glass and lie down. I catch her as she’s about to leave the room. “Do you think that if I’m feeling better tomorrow we can make the insurance calls and you can help me look for a place?”
A smile spreads across her face. “Of course, sweet girl.”
I return her smile and close my eyes and drift off to sleep. I wake with tears streaming down my face and my chest heaving. I sit up and catch my breath, and notice that the room is dark. I look out the window when I hear the slamming of a car door and voices below.
Two men get out of a sleek, black sports car and greet Dean. Carrying cases of beer, they walk towards the barn. I watch until I lose sight of them walking to the open field.
I head downstairs into the kitchen, I’m greeted by Emily and Keith sitting at the table. They both smile when they see me but their smile quickly fades.
“What’s wrong?” I tilt my head and ask. Pulling out a chair, I sit down next to Emily and prop my elbows on the table.
“Phoebe, is everything all right?” She places her hand on mine. Keith’s lips are pressed in a hard line and he doesn’t look happy.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“For starters, your eyes are puffy and you have mascara running down your cheeks,” Emily says, concern fills her tone.
Shit! I forgot about the dream and I didn’t even clean myself up. These people must think I’m nuts for walking around looking like this. I rush to the sink and wash my face to remove the black, dried makeup that stains my face and run my fingers through my hair to tame any fly-aways.
“Sorry, I had a dream about my dad and woke up crying. I haven’t had a dream about him in years.” I sit back down and watch as their expressions change from concerned to sorrow.
Emily gets up and pulls a plate out of the microwave and sets it down in front of me. Steam rises from the food and fills my nose. As if on cue, my stomach growls loud enough to wake anyone within a mile radius. We share a laugh, and I dig into the pot roast and potatoes.
I feel like I’m on display at a zoo. Both sets of eyes are fixed on me while I eat. Emily breaks the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?” Emily asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be fine.” And I will be.
“Okay, well after you eat, why don’t we get you cleaned up?” She offers.
“Sounds good,” I finish cleaning my plate and lounge back in the seat. Keith has a pleased smile on his face and Emily takes my dish to the sink.
I’m about to stand when the door opens and laughter fills the room. The boys stop in their tracks when they see the three of us glaring at them.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery,” the tall one says.
Keith stays quiet and glares at Dean. Did I miss something? He doesn’t look too pleased with his son, and it looks like the feeling is mutual.
“Hi, Austin. Jake,” Emily says, greeting the boys with a hug.
All eyes focus on me and nobody says anything for a minute. Suddenly, I feel self-conscious, and run my hand through my hair and across my face in case there is something stuck to it. I’m surprised when Dean breaks the silence. “Guys, this is Bar—Phoebe,” he catches himself before calling me that stupid name.
The boys say nothing until Dean hits the tall one in the arm. “Hi, Phoebe,” he says and takes a step forward to shake my hand. “I’m Jake,” he offers.
I shake his hand and notice the other one following suit. His icy blue eyes hypnotize me and for a second I’m lost. “Hi, I’m Austin,” he says in a deep southern drawl.
“Hi,” is all I manage to say because my mouth instantly goes dry.
Jake is good looking in his own right. He’s shorter than Dean and Austin, and I can see blonde hair peeking out from under his brown cowboy hat. But
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