Page 35 of Homesick

“Yes, here you go.”

My mom hands me a couple pieces of bacon to snack on while she finishes up the rest of breakfast. “I figured you’d be sleeping in extra late. Seems like you had a late night,” she smiles to herself as she starts frying some eggs.

My stomach drops. I feel like a teenager that just got caught sneaking in too late. I also get the feeling she knows the reason why I was out so late. “Yeah, I stayed out in the barn so I could keep an eye on that calf that’s sick,” I reply casually while munching on a piece of bacon.

“I thought you had a date last night. With the Davis boy.”

Ugh, this woman must work for the freaking FBI. “Mom, I told you I had a date, but I don’t recall giving you his name.”

“No, you didn’t. I had to find out from his mom of all people.”

“I didn’t tell you his name because I don’t know if it’s going anywhere. I didn’t want to make that big of a fuss.”

I pause for a second before I comprehend her entire sentence. “And of course, you know his mom. This is why I don’t date anyone from Honey Grove.”

If it was a few years ago, I probably wouldn’t have been mad at my mom for meddling, but it feels nice to banter with her like this. It feels like I’m home for the first time in a long time.

“Okay, fine. But I’m your mother and you should just tell me about this stuff on your own. I shouldn’t have to go digging for information at the local 4-H club.”

I follow her out to the dining room and sit across from her. “I’m sorry. I know I can be closed off at times, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

She slightly raises her eyebrow as if to say she has no clue what I’m talking about.

“I just feel like you and Dad are disappointed that I haven’t settled down yet.”

“Honey, I’m sorry if either of us ever gave you that impression. I’m not upset about you not having a boyfriend. I’m more upset about you feeling like you can’t talk to me. You’ve felt so distant these last few years and I just want to get to know my daughter again,” my mom says while reaching across the table to hold my hand.

I smile back at her and feel the comfort of her answer hit me in waves. I’m starting to fully grasp how disconnected I’d truly become with the people who knew me best.

“I know, Mom. I want to be more open moving forward, but I would like it if you’d respect some of my boundaries. I’ll talk about Adam when there’s actually something to talk about.”

“Hmm, okay. Can I ask one more question?”

“Of course,” I say before taking a long sip of coffee.

“Why was Blake’s truck at the farm so late last night?”

Now I’m more sure than ever that the FBI needs to recruit Susan Campbell.

“Oh geez, look at the time. I better go check on that calf before it gets too late,” I nervously reply before taking my coffee mug out the door.

I’ve almost cleared the porch before she says, “Wren Grace Campbell, you know better than to have boys over that late.”

I can feel my face heat up at her accusation as I pick up the pace. “Love you, Mom!”

I hear the door close behind me and I can finally stop awkwardly half-running away. If that’s how I react to her questioning, I’m not ready to see Blake.

CHAPTER 13

While heading out to check on Mocha, I spot my brother’s truck near the barn. My stomach sinks when I realize he’s in the calf barn. I take a deep breath and prepare for the worst as I quietly mark the best exits for every scenario.

I find Chris talking to one of the farm hands. As I’m walking up, I hear Ian giving him an update on Mocha.

As I approach, Ian stops his report to say, “hey Wren! I was just giving your brother an update on the sick calf. I have to go help Ron in the other barn. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

I watch my buffer disappear into another stall and quietly curse to myself before turning to Chris. He looks calm for the most part. My eyes snap to the little scooter his injured leg is rested on and a big smile spreads across my face as I attempt to contain my laughter. Seeing my big brother scoot around on four tiny wheels easily makes up for the stressful situation I just escaped with our mother.

“Are you here to yell at me or did you just want to show me your sweet new ride?”

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