Page 26 of Make Her Mine
I had to do something to grow up at least a little. But what?
Drawing always helped me, and I left my room to sneak upstairs to my colored pencils and paper. There, I became Ella, the famous artist, destined to travel the globe to various art shows where my work would be displayed for all to see and purchase.
With most of my artwork, I let my mind take my hand on the journey. And this time it had me sketching Brandon’s ruggedly attractive face and his almond-shaped eyes—the blue had to be just right. The dark brows, thick eyelashes, and the length of his nose had to be just right, too.
The sound of an engine rumbled from outside, and I looked out the window to see the four-wheel-drive truck the brothers loved to drive going down the ranch driveway. It was almost dark outside, and the taillights took a left at the end of the drive, heading into town.
Instinctively, I knew Brandon was in the truck.
I closed the sketchpad and put it in the bottom drawer of the desk before looking for someone to tell me where he’d gone. But I had to ask in a way that didn’t hint to the fact that I had a massive crush on the man.
Dad was the first one, and I greeted him sweetly, “Hi, Daddy. Where’s everybody at?”
“Out,” he said as he plopped down on one of the big chairs in the media room. “I’m going to watch some television. You want to join me? Oh, wait. You’re mother said you haven’t eaten all day. Get yourself something, then come here and we can watch some old westerns.”
“Sure.” I really didn’t want to. “Kyle went out, too?”
“No, just the Gentrys.” He flipped through the channels, searching for the perfect western. He’ll tended to only get through about five minutes before falling asleep. That’s what always happened when my dad sat still for a few minutes. “The Watering Hole called their names is what Clayton told me before they left.”
“All of them went?” I felt my blood getting hot thinking about Brandon going back to that place!
“Yep.” He ended his search on a John Wayne flick. “Now get yourself something to eat. You can’t go to bed on an empty stomach.”
I left the room, stomping not to the kitchen but to my bedroom. Throwing myself on the bed face first, I cried. I could’ve spent the day with Brandon again, but I got so mad at not going through the exam to get on birth control, that I’d missed out. There he was, going to get drunk and end up dancing with random women of ill repute. He might even have sex with one of them.
Somewhere inside of me, I knew we would’ve spent the day together if I’d just been nice to him. He might not have left with his brothers and stayed right here with me. We might’ve gone to the theater room to watch a movie together. We might’ve even held hands—or even—made out.
I had to ruin everything by being a big infant. Why couldn’t I act my age? Why did I have to be so juvenile?
I could blame my family for treating me like a baby my whole life. And so that’s what I did. I stormed out of my room and saw my mother and sister sitting on the couch. “Why’d you do it?”
Mom looked taken aback. “Why’d I do what?”
“Not just you, Mom. All of you.” I threw my hands up in the air. “I’m adolescent. I’ve never acted my age. And it’s all you guys’ fault. Daddy never let me help him the way Kyle and Darleen do. Mom, you only gave me work because I’m your kid, and you felt like I couldn’t get a job elsewhere.”
“Not true,” Mom said defiantly. “Ella, you have the job because you know what I expect out of a maid. You have an eye for spotting what needs to be cleaned. Most of the time.”
“I’ve got an eye, Mom, because I look at things and draw them. You didn’t know that?” I asked her accusingly.
Darleen got up and took me by the shoulders. “Midol, Ella. Go to the medicine cabinet and get a handful. You’re obviously PMSing.”
“Am not!” I shook her hands off me. “I’m having a mental breakdown, and you aren’t helping me.” I stormed back to my room, slamming the door behind me.
Turning around, I saw my reflection in the mirror above my vanity. My hair was in two braids, I wore no makeup, and my eyes were red from crying.
I had enough! No matter how much I’d been babied in my life, no one had held me back. I couldn’t blame a soul except myself.
I’ve always been a loner. I pushed people away for various reasons. But I didn’t want to do that anymore. I wanted to be like everyone else.
Average.
Slowly, I looked at my closed closet door and walked to it. Opening it, I found my best cowboy boots, my newest pair of blue jeans, and the most enticing shirt I had. Sure, it wasn’t too sexy, but it had buttons that can be undone at the top.
I showered, washed and dried my hair, then styled it, making it curl around my face. Pulling on the tight jeans, I put on the maroon chenille button-down sweater, tying it at my waist, and leaving the top four buttons undone so my cleavage showed. I found the silver hoop earrings Darleen gave me for my eighteenth birthday and added them to my accoutrements. Then I put on a necklace, the silver cross with diamonds, to hang between my breasts.
I felt almost ready to go out. But then a quick look at my fingernails, which hadn’t been painted in forever, had me grabbing the burgundy nail polish my sister kept in the bathroom. With them painted shiny cherry, I was now ready to go.
I left a note on my bed sayingI’ve gone to The Watering Hole. That way if anything terrible happened, at least they’d know where I had gone. Just because I was growing up a bit, I wasn’t about to stop being responsible.
