Page 52 of Red Hot Rancher

She laughed again and dissolved into a fit of coughing. “We’ll stay at the house, silly Billy.”

He no longer warmed at the pet name. It was a smokescreen. Her way of making him and everyone else think she cared much more than she did. But her words hammered the last nails on the lid of “Mom only cares about herself” box. “The house was demolished last year, Mom. Remember? The tornado?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I sent you a message. And a picture after the house was demolished.”

“When?”

“Last summer. The big tornado that went through Moore and over my place.” Had stressing my been too obvious? Probably not if his message of “a tornado flattened the house” and a photo of a big gaping hole where their family home used to be hadn’t gotten the point across.

“And you didn’t fucking call? Caleb, my house is gone and you didn’t even call?”

“I tried, but it just rang.”

“That’s right. I lost my phone and got another one. Must’ve been during that time.”

It was plausible. Mom was always losing her phone and getting new ones, and she was on her third phone number in five years. It was the one time he hadn’t called Russ when Mom went into radio silence. Life had been too crazy for Caleb at the time. If he’d gotten ahold of Russ, he might’ve learned about the breakup.

A gusty sigh traveled over the line. “I dragged Randall all the way here and there’s nothing to show him. Story of my life.”

Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. Nothing to show Randall? Mom had dragged her new man here to see a house that she’d barely spent any time in once she’d turned eighteen.

“Yeah, it sucks. I’ve been living at Justin’s.”

“The Walkers? Do they make you cook and clean?”

“I cook and clean up after myself because Justin’s letting me stay there for free.” Why did he bother arguing? Mom would think what she wanted. He searched for a subject change—and a way to keep them from driving through his yard in the dark. Mom wasn’t known for passing up getting behind the wheel after she’d had a few. “Want to meet me out there tomorrow? I can show you what the tornado did, and you can see what it looks like without a house.”

“I guess we’ll have to get a motel.” She couldn’t sound more inconvenienced. “Yeah, why don’t we do that? We’ll check out, grab lunch, and see you about one o’clock.”

There was no yeah, I’d like to see you, son, it’s been awhile or why don’t you meet us for lunch, but she’d agreed to meet, and he couldn’t deny the little boy inside of him wanting to see his mother.

It shouldn’t be this warm in winter.

Brigit stepped through the revolving glass door and squinted into the sun. Traffic buzzed over the busy street that ran in front of the office center she’d just interviewed in. Heels clacked on the concrete from passersby. Many were dressed in business attire more expensive than what she’d donned, and others were dressed like she would be at home right now. A sweater and jeans.

When she’d arrived in Phoenix two days ago, she’d had to go shopping yet again. Her sweater dress might’ve worked, but for a Minnesota girl suddenly finding herself in temps in the lower seventies in the middle of winter, she would’ve been red-faced and sweaty while she met with her prospective employers.

Market research analyst.

The job sounded…not exciting. Deskbound. Full of water-cooler conversations and reheated leftovers eaten under bright fluorescent lights. Hours staring at a computer screen. While they’d covered what her duties would be if she landed the job and given her a tour of cubicle hell, she’d questioned what the hell she’d been thinking when she’d gone to business school. What else had she thought a business job would entail?

Her heels mingled with the rest of the foot traffic as she hustled to a coffee shop on the next block over. Once inside, she rattled off the same low-fat, low-carb drink she always used to get. While waiting, she sent Dad a message. Mom hadn’t been able to ask for time off. But she must enjoy the job. Most couples her parents’ age moved to Arizona to retire and escape the bone-aching cold, but Mom had scored a decent job and often commented on the benefits. Dad sold used cars and never complained either. Maybe it was the promise of a steady paycheck, or maybe retirement equaled boredom for them, or maybe the change in climate was enough.

Her drink was ready. She threaded through the full tables, out the door, to the side street Dad had arranged to pick her up on. Taking a cautious sip, she wrinkled her nose as ultrasweetened nonfat coated her tongue. Blech. How quickly her taste buds had adjusted to real cream and sugar. Each drink reminded her that skinny wasn’t always as good as great-tasting food.

Nursing the cup just for something to do, she was happy to trash it when Dad pulled up.

“Hey, kiddo. Mind if I drop you off at home and head back to work? A guy’s gone today, and they need me on deck.”

“No problem.” Her heart sank. Adulthood snuck up on her at the most unexpected times. She was in Arizona, staying off the beaten path with her parents, but she hadn’t been able to spend that much time with them. It was like the holidays provided too much time, but without their vacation days, there wasn’t much time for visiting.

She watched the city go by, seemingly identical stucco home after stucco home, on the way to the house and chatted about the weather and what they planned for supper. Dad let her into the house and took off.

Brigit changed into plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt. No car. Not ambitious enough to brave public transportation. And bored. She padded through the house. Where would she live if she moved here? An apartment? A condo? Would she eventually buy a stucco home with a ceramic tile floor and a pool? She glanced around. Done all in beige?

This was a nice place, and much newer than her family home. But it looked like every other house in the development. Mom had added her own touches, and some that were obviously Dad’s, but there was nothing to suggest Mom and Dad used to live in the country on a ranch.

---