Page 12 of Space Cowgirl: Houston, All Systems Go
HOLT
“Well,well, well. Look who finally decided to come home.”
I’ve just opened the front door, only to be greeted by my sister, who’s sitting on my recliner, feet up, boots crossed, hands together like in prayer, fingers tapping. She’s actually moved the chair so that it’s facing the door instead of the TV. She resembles a movie villain.
She looks me up and down. “Hello, slut.”
Sigh.“Language, Rose.” I close the door and hook my keys on the nail to the left before yanking off my boots. Unlike my sister, I don’t like dirt all over my floors.
A longboingsounds when she releases the side lever of the recliner, bringing the footrest down and her back up. “Jesus, Holt,” she says, bracing her hands on the arms of the old chair as it continues to rock back and forth, “you need some new freaking furniture.”
I look around the worn interior that I once loved for all the memories it held of my grandparents. Now its shabbiness only reminds me of what my parents left me to deal with. Threadbare carpet, scratchy plaid fabric on the couch, and walls paneled with wood so dark it makes the room claustrophobic. I suddenly wish I hadn’t hurried back to the ranch as fast as I did.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Wait, what?” She blinks comically. “You agree with me?” With the chair finally settled, Rose stands and crosses her arms over her chest. “After years of me telling you to do something with the inside of this place, you finally agree with me?” She looks me up and down. “You must really not want me to ask where you were all night.” A smirk kicks up the corner of her mouth.
I ignore her and walk into the kitchen. I could probably buy her a flying unicorn and a ticket to the mythical realm of fairies and she’dstillinsist on questioning me before she hopped on and flew away.
The start of a headache pounds my temples. Coffee. I need coffee.
Rose trails in behind me, watching as I bang my way through making a strong pot. I don’t bother getting her a mug. She hates my coffee.
A few minutes later I take my first sip, eyes closing in bliss, and Rose begins.
“So?” She draws the word out, an evil smile on her deceptively innocent face.
“Yes?” I take another sip before setting my mug down on the island and facing Rose. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Best man, huh?”
I blink, surprised at the subject. I thought for sure her first question would be about Jules. “Uh, yeah.”
“Very cool.” She sits down on a stool on the other side of the kitchen counter. “I’m glad the two of you worked your shit out.” Her smile is softer now, without that wicked gleam in her eyes. Makes her look younger. A pang of nostalgia hits me as I realize that even though she’ll always be my baby sister, she’s all grown up now. On her last year of college.
“I’m sorry about all that, Rose. I know it was hard on you, Flynn and me not talking for so long.” The rift had kept me at a distance as my brother started his new life in Houston. We’ve finally been getting to know each other again as adults, and now with him engaged, I feel like I’m losing my brother all over again. As unfair and stupid as that is.
“Yeah, well. You owe me.” Rose’s lips form an exaggerated pout.
I laugh, relieved at the playfulness in her voice and the reminder of the kid she used to be. “Okay, then. I owe you.”
She fist pumps the air. “Awesome. Now tell me where you were last night.”
Shoot. Rose always did have a tendency to sucker punch me when I wasn’t looking. “Nothing to tell, really.” I pick up my mug, enjoying Rose’s impatient huff. “Just made sure Jules got home okay.”
One blond eyebrow quirks up. “You needed to stay all night to ensure that?”
“She was really out of it. I didn’t want to leave and have her sick or something.” Or miss her strip show.
“Yeah, that was weird. We both had the same amount to drink.” Rose frowns. “But while I was just buzzing, she passed out.”
I shrug, not liking the memory of Jules dead to the world as I drove her home. “Alcohol affects people differently, I guess.” My mind turns to our mother. She’d been sweet one beer, nasty the next. Sometimes it was a blessing our parents weren’t home that often.
Rose doesn’t seem to buy it. “Maybe. But Jackie always says Jules can drink anyone under the table. Something about growing up military gave her an ironclad stomach.”
I tuck away the fact that Jules was a military brat, strangely happy to know more about her. “Jules just got back from orbit. I’m sure being in space for months messed with her tolerance.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
