Page 5 of Wildly Yours
He grunts like the man I knew long ago.
“That’s two hours from now.”
“Well I guess you’ll have to find something to keep yourself occupied until I am ready to talk ‘official business’.” I use air quotes aggressively, as if my volume and tone aren’t communicating enough of my discomfort.
“I need some new shovels for the trail crew.”
“Hadley will be happy to help you. Now please leave my office.”
His eyebrows are set in a scowl, and I feel like my lady parts are betraying me as they vie for my attention.
How does his presence do this to me?
I wait for him to buy his shovels and leave before I step back out onto the sales floor. Things have finally slowed down for the day, so I busy myself restocking the locally made soap. My mother slides up next to me as she pulls off her apron.
“Still feuding with that Barone boy?”
“He’s not a boy, mom. He’s a grown man.”
“I’ll say he is.” My mother wiggles her eyebrows, earning a groan from me.
“I’m not feuding with him. I just don’t trust him.”
“You don’t trust anyone.”
“Who’s fault is that?”
“Serena, it’s time to stop making your father and I the villain of your story.”
“Are you kidding me right now? When have I ever made you a villain?”
“You’re doing it right now.”
“I think I’m justified in having trust issues considering you drilled independence and skepticism with a dash of doomsday fear into my daily life.”
“We just wanted you to be prepared for what’s coming.”
“I’ll tell you what is coming, Mom. I’m going to get re-elected because instead of hiding out in the middle of nowhere with my stockpiles of food and god knows what else, I choose to believe there is another option. I’m trying to keep this community connected so that we can face the future together. Now, I know in your heart you believe in this too, otherwise you wouldn’t have been whispering to everyone today about my campaign.”
“Is this your way of thanking me?”
I pull my mom into a hug. As much as she frustrates me, I cherish our relationship.
“Thank you for helping out today and for reminding your old friends they should vote for me. I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey. Now add a jar of that delicious honey to my tally. I have to go.”
Alarms sound in my bodyagain.
“Why are you taking honey? You guys have plenty of bee hives.”
“They all died this winter, and we’ve already run out of the honey we harvested last year.”
“Is Dad freaking out?”
My mother reaches up and rubs the space between her eyebrows. It's her tell when she's anxious. She could never beat me in poker because of that one gesture.
“Between the weevils in the peas and the mites that decimated our bees, your father is experiencing anxiety-induced heart palpitations.”
