Page 10 of Nixon’s Promise

Zack turned to Nix with a broad smile. “You got plans for dinner?”

He did.

He’d planned on sitting on his couch with the large pepperoni and mushroom he’d picked up from town earlier, drink a beer, and catch a game on TV.

“Nope. But it’s not cool springing a guest on your sister this late.”

Zack’s brows bunched and his forehead wrinkled like he thought it would be rude to invite someone over for dinner at dinner time. “She said it was cool. Besides, she always makes too much and we have leftovers. If you come over, we won’t have to eat the same thing tomorrow.”

“You wanna come with me back to the house so I can change and we’ll head over on the Kubota, or does she need you home now?”

“You have a Kubota?”

“Sure do. Have you ever driven one?”

“No.”

“Wanna learn?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Come on, bud.” Nix knocked the boy’s shoulder as he made his way out of the metal shed.

There had been a lot of times Nixon had missed his father. Missed his youth and all the lessons his dad had taught him. The time they’d spent together. Even though he’d grown up without a mother, he’d never felt the loss of her. She was just some woman who couldn’t be bothered to stick around. Much like Alison, Nix’s ex-wife, she wasn’t cut out to be a wife. Not that Wayne had ever spoken badly about the woman who’d given Nix life, but he’d heard the stories.

There were some rumors that weren’t rumors—they were the truth. And the truth was Suzy Swagger was selfish. She’d wanted out of Cliff City, and when Wayne had inherited the farm from his father and wanted to make a go of the life he wanted, Suzy bailed. It hadn’t mattered to her that she had a young son. She wanted what she wanted, when she wanted it, and took off to find it.

Nixon felt the loss of his father. And right then walking with Zack, he felt that loss straight in his chest.

5

What the hell was I thinking?

Nixon Swagger in my house, for dinner?

Thankfully it was Sunday. Any other day of the week it would be a crapshoot if the house would be fit for company. I’d learned quickly with two teenagers living with me, my once a week top-to-bottom house cleaning routine was no longer enough.

I needed to add a mid-week clean as well, but I’d yet to implement a Wednesday pick-up day into my schedule. The only two rooms that had yet to be cleaned were Mandy’s bedroom and the upstairs bathroom she and Zack shared.

That was because it was Mandy’s week to do the bathroom and she’d hightailed it out of the house that morning before I could stop her. I didn’t have the heart to ask Zack to pick up his sister’s slack especially after he’d done double duty helping me muck Sally’s stall and clean out the duck pen.

I had the chicken marinating, sides made, and iced tea chilling and I was sitting on the back porch when my Altima pulled in. Mandy got out, her long brown hair flowing behind her. She’d been blessed with our father’s thick, wavy brown hair, but got her mother’s green eyes and beauty. There was a reason the boys were knocking down my door and her text messaging was nearing the million a month mark. Mandy was a teenaged girl beauty queen.

As much as she hated Kent County and she voiced this often, she’d learned that country boys would come running with a smile and crook of her finger. Everyone except her brother. The two of them fought like cats and dogs.

I didn’t have any siblings close to my age so I didn’t know if this was normal or the result of losing both of their parents and being moved across the country to live with a sister they’d spent very little time with over the last twelve years. They were three and almost five when I moved out to go to college. And after that I’d only been home to Los Angeles twice a year to visit. Now after losing their mom and dad, they’d also lost their home, their friends, everything they’d grown up around and were living with me, an almost stranger.

Zack was settling in. Mandy was not. She’d made it clear she wouldn’t be settling—she was planning her escape. Next year she’d be a senior and after that she was moving back to California, at which time she would never have to see or speak to me again.

I was thirty years old, had no children, and had never been in a stable, steady relationship. Why my dad and Carla thought I was the best choice to raise their children was beyond me. But even with my lack of parental wisdom, I tried. I’d had three great role models. First, with my mom and dad, and after my mom died, with my dad and Carla.

She was a great stepmother to me and a great mom to Zack and Mandy. She’d set the bar so high, I’d never measure up. That didn’t mean I hadn’t given it my best shot. But Mandy still hated me and Zack tolerated me.

Part of the reason I hadn’t hesitated when Zack asked if Nixon could come over for dinner was because he’d sounded happy. He’d lost the teenage punk tone and was polite. He’d sounded a little bit like he did when I’d go home to visit. During those visits, both of my siblings liked me. We’d hit amusement parks, movies, the beach, just the three of us hanging out. They’d smiled then. They’d hug me and tell me what a cool sister I was.

Now all I got was lip and attitude.

I was fucking this up and Zack and Mandy were going to be the ones to pay for my inadequacies.