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My family's in deep financial trouble, so how can I say no?
Just when I think it can't get worse, I find out I'm pregnant.
What's my older brother going to do when he finds out the father is his former best friend?
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Chapter one – Elena
“Your brother up yet?” Dad asks my oldest brother, Elijah as he walks into the kitchen. Elijah moves to the sink to wash up for breakfast. “How the hell am I supposed to know? You guys act like he’s my responsibility.”
"We all carry this place on our backs and looking after each other is expected," Dad says, the sound of coffee splashing into his mug punctuates his point. “You’re the only one who’s been outside. Would it kill you to swing by and wake his ass up?”
Elijah lets out a long breath. “For fuck’s sake," he mutters, his boots scuffing against the worn kitchen tiles as he turns back to the door.
Since my mom passed, it’s just been my two older brothers, my dad, and myself—well, and all the animals and a rotating crew of farm hands that we could barely afford. I've lived twenty-two years as thelittle sister, shielded and fussed over more than I care to admit.
Elijah's the eldest at thirty-two, and these days, he's the one keeping this place afloat, especially since Dad's health isn't what it used to be. He claimed the old hunting cabin out back as his own when he was just sixteen and he’s lived there since. My middle brother, Ethan, he’s twenty-eight and he moved out at seventeen. He didn’t go far, much like my oldest brother.Ethan moved into the loft of the barn out back. However, when it comes to me, I’m kept right upstairs where everyone knows where I am. To say that I’m overprotected is an understatement. When I was just a girl, I dreamed of being Rapunzel and having my Prince Charming come and break me free from the confines of my bedroom. It never happened though, so I had to learn to save myself, to fight against them every step of the way if I wanted to be treated like an adult. It’s a fight I’m still fighting because when these men look at me, they don’t see the woman that I am. They see the three-year-old little girl I was.
I take a sip from my mug and the warm coffee hits just right.
I place a plate of crispy bacon onto the center of the table. Dad reaches for a slice, thinking I’m not paying attention, but I quickly smack his hand away. "Uh-uh, you know the rules," I tell him with a smirk.
He draws back, empty-handed and grumbling. "If I can’t eat bacon, I don’t want to live," he complains, trying to look pitiful.
I roll my eyes playfully. “Dramatic much?”
His face pinches as he sips his coffee.
“I have your plate right here. Egg whites, turkey bacon, whole-wheat toast, and a nice yogurt cup with fruit.” I take his plate from the microwave and put it in front of him before going to the fridge for his yogurt. When I look back at him, his upper lip is curled.
“What?” I ask, knowing that face.
"Egg whites?" Dad looks at his plate like it's a foreign object.
I nod, firmly but with a smile. "Doctor's orders, remember? You have to make changes to your diet."
He pokes at the egg whites and turkey bacon with a look of betrayal. “Yeah, but egg whites and turkey bacon? Come on. This isn’t food. This is what those health nuts eat to survive. Notice I didn’t say live.”
I laugh. “Dad, it’s not that bad. Now, come on. Eat your breakfast. I have to take you to an appointment in a couple of hours.”
“What for now?” He’s slowly turning red.
“It’s just a follow-up to see how you’re doing on your new meds. Nothing big. It will be quick and easy.” I say, trying to sound upbeat.
He shakes his head and reluctantly picks up his fork, the metal clinking against the plate. "When you're young, you think living forever is the goal," he sighs, "but getting old isn't for the faint of heart. You live to be my age, and you’ll see. It’s miserable. Your kids become your parents.”
I smile at him. “You know we’re just trying to keep you here with us for as long as possible.”
He scoffs but goes back to eating.
The boys walk into the kitchen and Elijah immediately sits down and starts filling his plate while Ethan goes to the sink to wash his hands.
“Something smells good,” Ethan says, looking over his shoulder at me as I lean against the counter.
“Want some coffee?” I offer.
"He can pour his own," Elijah interjects gruffly, clearly not in the best of moods. “Even though he can’t get his ass out of bed on his own.” He turns to look at me. "He's got two hands. Come sit down and eat."
