Southern Sunshine

by Natasha Madison

  * * *

  Going to the bathroom, I read the instructions five times before finally taking the test. Putting it back in the bag, I hid it in my pants when I walked back out of the bathroom.

  Pops was in his bedroom, so I made my way out to the barn and opened the door just enough to slip inside. Ever since Reed left, I never came in here anymore because the heartache followed the anger I felt. The memory of that night was still the only thing I dreamed of.

  * * *

  I walked up the ladder and sat down, pulling the brown bag out of my shirt. Taking the test out, I held it in my hand. My eyes fixated on the lines. "One line," I said to myself. “Please just stay one line." I didn’t know who I was praying to that night, but whoever it was didn’t hear my pleas. The second line came out brighter than the first line. My heart stopped in my chest, and the test dropped out of my hand. I lay down on my back, looking out the window with my hand on my stomach, and I already knew what I was going to do. There was no other choice for me.

  * * *

  "Momma." I hear Sofia's voice. “Are you here?"

  * * *

  Looking over at the barn, I get up and walk back to the door. “Let’s get this shit over with."

  Chapter 5

  Reed

  "Come on." Ethan smirks. “You got more in you than that,” he says as he stands over me and pushes me to do another set of eight. My arm muscles scream at me as I push up the last one. I lock the weights in place as my arms fall to the sides, and my eyes close.

  "That’s enough." I hear Ethan snickering, and I sit up, grabbing my water bottle and drinking from it as my chest heaves.

  "What, are you tired?" I tease, and he looks over his shoulder at me. He was not lying when he said he would make me vomit. He pushed me so hard that when I went home, I took a shower sitting down. I got myself something to eat and then collapsed into bed. The dreams never came, and I wonder if it was because I was that exhausted. Whatever it was, it was the first time in over a month I didn’t have a nightmare.

  "I still got a couple of hours left in me,” I say, and my whole body clenches in fear.

  "Good,” he says. “You can run all that energy off." He points at the treadmills. When Ethan came back home all those years ago, my dad made sure he felt at home. He transformed an old fallen-down barn into a state-of-the-art training facility. The walls are covered in mirrors so you can see what you’re doing. The middle of the barn has ten weight machines in the shape of a square that work your core. Five bikes on one side of the wall sit right next to five Stairmasters. Two leg press machines are against the other wall with three punching bags and five treadmills. An empty space all the way at the end has two ropes lying on the floor. I get on the treadmill and run for over forty-five minutes before turning it off and deciding I’m done for the day.

  "I’m going to shower and go see Grandpa,” I say, and he looks over at me.

  Out of everyone, he’s the one who has been in my face about things. "Doing visits." He stands with his feet apart and his arms crossed over his chest.

  "I saw Quinn yesterday,” I say, and he rolls his eyes at me.

  "He came to see if it was really you." He points at me and then stares me down. "Why do you hate being here so much?" He doesn’t mess with words or sugarcoat anything.

  "I don’t hate it here,” I say and then look at him. “My whole life, I was Casey’s son. The big cowboy tech specialist. In high school, I failed computers. Do you know how that felt? It’s like they thought I was my father,” I say. “Then it was Quinn’s little brother. Can you ride horses like Quinn? Can you walk with the stupid swagger that he walks with?" I make up that last part, and Ethan laughs. “I was never just fucking Reed. Pain in the ass, funny, good-looking Reed." I wink at him, trying to make a joke of it.

  "Who the fuck told you that you were good-looking?" He shakes his head, and it’s my turn to flip him the bird.

  "Day one of training." I lift my hand. “Not one person compared me to anyone. I was just Barnes."

  "So did you find out who you were?" he asks, and I look down. "You know who you are," he tells me, walking over and grabbing his truck keys. “It’s time to show everyone else." He heads toward the door, sliding on his sunglasses. “And put on a fucking shirt. You aren’t a stripper."

  I clap my hands. “Don’t be envious that I’m better built than you are." He walks out, not saying a word, so I grab my shirt and head back to the house, which is ten steps from the barn.

  I shower quickly and slip on jeans and a T-shirt. Grabbing my phone, I see I have a call from my mother and then another couple of texts from some of the guys in my squad. I’ll get to those later. Tucking my phone in my back pocket, I make my way over to my grandparents' house. I put my glasses on and wonder if I should take the golf cart to their house or just walk it. Everyone in my family is five minutes away from each other. I opt to take the golf cart when my leg twinges because the path to my grandparents’ place is smooth.

  When I finally see their house, my chest aches because I spent more time here than in my own. This house brought me so many memories. Every Sunday, my grandparents host a barbecue for the town. When I was growing up, it was my favorite day of the week. The day of the week I found out my brother was better than me at everything. The day of the week I would pretend I didn’t care, yet inside, a piece of me died every single fucking time.

  I spot my grandfather right away as he walks out of his barn, talking to the guy next to him. My grandfather is in jeans, a button-down shirt, worn cowboy boots, and his cowboy hat on his head.

  It takes him a couple of minutes to look over at me, but when he does, his face fills with a giant smile, and I can’t help but mirror his look. Stopping the golf cart, I get out and walk over to him. “Finally,” he says. Coming to me, he grabs my neck and pulls me to him. I hug him just like I did six years ago when I left. “Took you long enough." After slapping my back, he lets me go. His eyes are on mine. “It’s been two days."

  "I know,” I say. The guilt washes over me when he lets me go, and I look over at the man next to him.

  "Christopher?" I ask, confused, and he just smirks at me. He’s wearing dress pants, a button-up shirt, and a sport coat.

  "Son of a bitch,” he says, laughing. “Never thought I’d see this ugly face again." He looks back at my grandfather. “Sorry for swearing." We are twenty-five years old and still afraid to swear in front of my grandfather.

  "Me?" I say, pointing at myself. “What the fuck are you wearing?"

  "I had patients today,” he says, and I look at him confused.

  "Patients?" I question him. When I left town, he was headed to community college to go into agriculture.

  "It’s Doctor now,” he says to me, and I just look at him shocked. "I was here to see if my girl could start riding."

  "Your girl?" It’s only then that I realize how much has changed and how much of a stranger everyone is to me. In shutting myself off from them, I realize how much I missed out on their lives.

  "She just turned two,” he says, and I hit his shoulder, just like I used to do all those years ago.

  "Shut up,” I say. “A doctor, a husband, and a father."

  "Not the husband part,” he says. “Two out of three isn’t so bad." He looks at my grandfather and then back at me. “Why don’t we catch up soon?" he says, and I nod at him as he walks over to his brand-new BMW.

  "Doctor?" I say, shocked. “Harlow broke her arm once." I watch him drive away. “He threw up on her."

  "People change," my grandfather says, and I look over at him, nodding.

  "Don’t I know it,” I say, and he puts his hand on my shoulder.

  "It’s good to have you home," he says, and the guilt slowly comes back.

  "It’s just a visit,” I say, and he nods.

  "You came." He squeezes my shoulder.

  "Figured it was time,” I say. Someone opens the barn doors, and the horses run out into the fenced area.

  I wa
lk over to the fence and lean my hands on it. “Your father said you got hurt."

  "Yeah." I don’t look at him because being here with him is strange. Standing beside this man who helped make me who I am, I can’t explain this feeling that creeps into me. "I’ll be okay."

  "So why did you come?" I can see him in my peripheral vision as he watches the horses run. “If you don’t want to be here …”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to be here, Grandpa,” I say softly. “It’s just …"

  "Oh, I know," he says, pushing off the fence. “I know,” he says softly. “Why don’t you take your horse out for a bit?"

  "I was going to say hi to Grandma,” I say. He puts his hands in his back pockets, and I wonder if my dad ever got compared to my grandfather.

  "You say hi to her when you bring back the horse and stay for dinner." He turns and starts walking to the barn. “And I’m not asking you, Reed Barnes,” he says over his shoulder.

  "Yes, sir,” I say, walking into the fenced area and going to my horse.

  He comes to me, not sure. "It’s me,” I say, holding out my hand while his tail flips one way and then the other. I rub his neck. “Let's go for a ride,” I say, getting onto his back without a saddle. Grabbing his reins, I kick his sides, and he starts slow. “You got lazy,” I say, and he huffs back.

  Eventually, he takes off a bit faster, and I enjoy the wind on my face. I don’t even pay attention to where he’s going, and by the time I look up, I see it. It’s the red barn, but it’s not red anymore, and it looks like it’s falling down. I gasp out in shock as I remember how perfect it was. My eyes fixate on the barn as I remember the last night I was here.

  Kissing her, tasting her, making love to her. I close my eyes, and I’m brought back to six years ago.

  It had been two months since I left home. I was riding high, nothing was standing in my way, and I was making a name for myself. I opened Facebook one night and saw that I had about fifteen messages. Most of them were from my family members but one was from Hazel. Her picture was of her and her grandfather.

  My heart sped up for a second when I saw her name. I opened the message.

  Hey, it’s me.

  I know that this is out of the blue but can you call me, please.

  It’s important.

  I deleted the app and deactivated my account that very same night. I had one goal and one goal only—to succeed. I couldn’t reach out to her because I didn’t trust myself not to feel the guilt. So I pushed her to the back of my mind. I put her and all the memories we had together in a nice beautiful box I never touched.

  Glancing back at the house, I find it looks just as bad as the barn, and I wonder if she ever came home. I wonder if her grandfather decided to sell the farm and follow her. It wouldn’t surprise me since he was all she had. I knew that her leaving was going to be a big deal to him even though he pretended he couldn’t wait.

  I take one last look at the barn and the house and make my way back to my grandparents’ farm, not knowing that all the answers to my questions were right in front of me.

  Chapter 6

  Hazel

  I pull open the glass door, and the cold air hits me right away. I make sure Sofia walks in before me. She slips her hand in mine as we walk in. "Good afternoon," the lady at the desk says with a smile. “How may I help you?" Her blond bob is as perfect as the makeup on her face.

  "I’m here to see Mr. Devlyn,” I say. “I have an appointment with him at one o’clock."

  Her eyes go from smiling to sad as she gets up from her desk and walks around with her arms outstretched. “I’m so sorry about your grandfather,” she says, taking me in her arms.

  "Thank you,” I say softly as I let her hug me.

  I spent the early part of the day cleaning the downstairs between the tears when I would find my grandfather’s things. The blanket in the chair in the living room next to the bed he would cover me with when I was younger. I sat in the same chair as he did and hugged the blanket to my chest. When my phone rang at nine o’clock this morning, I was in the middle of cleaning the bathroom. It was his lawyer calling to ask me to come in. I dreaded it, but I knew I had to do it. I also knew I had no choice. Not one fucking choice.

  "I’ll tell Mr. Devlyn you are here." She releases me and turns to walk down the little hallway.

  "Momma." I feel my hand being pulled down and look at Sofia. “Are you sad again?"

  "Just a little, baby girl." I pull her to me, and my hand rubs her head.

  "He’s ready for you," the lady says. “If you’d like, I can keep the little one busy." She looks at Sofia. “Would you like to come and make photocopies with me?" Sofia looks up at me for permission, and I just smile and nod. “It’s the first door," she tells me, taking Sofia’s hand and leading her to the other side.

  Walking into the office, I see the big brown desk in the middle of the room with files piled high on each side. Mr. Devlyn looks up from where he sits at his desk, getting up and taking off his glasses. He walks around the desk, with a smile, in his slacks and button-down shirt with his cuffs rolled up. He smells like tobacco and spice, something that I haven’t smelled in over six years. I hold out my hand. “Mr. Devlyn."

  He holds out his hand to shake, adding his other hand over mine. “You are just as beautiful as your grandfather said you were." I don’t say anything because a lump starts to form. I know that if I open my mouth, it’ll just be a sob coming out. "Please sit." He points at one of the two empty chairs that face his desk.

  "Thank you,” I say, sitting in a chair. My stomach feels like a boat in a tropical storm.

  "Before we begin," he starts, “I just want you to know how sorry I am for your loss." He grabs the manila folder and opens it. "Your grandfather had everything set up." He picks his glasses up to read the paper in front of him. “According to this, his last wish was to be cremated as soon as he passed.” I grab my purse and search for a tissue. “I want you to know that I tried to talk him out of it.” He shakes his head. “But he was a stubborn man.”

  I give up searching for the tissue, and instead, I just use the back of my hand. “I’m sorry to do this,” I say. I put my trembling hand in my lap. “But I just have a couple of questions."

  "Of course." He folds his hands in front of him. “Anything I can do to help."

  "How long was he sick?" My voice trembles.

  "Two years,” he says, and I gasp in shock. “I’m taking it that you didn’t have a clue."

  "No." I shake my head. “Not one. We saw him six months ago. I noticed he looked weak and had lost weight, but he blamed it on getting the flu." Mr. Devlyn turns now and grabs a box of Kleenex behind him and offers me one. I grab two out of the box. “Was he alone when he passed away?" I ask the question that has haunted me since this nightmare happened.

  "He wanted to do everything at home, but he got too bad to even care for him at home. He was in hospital care for the last couple of weeks,” he says, and again, I’m blown away.

  "We talked on FaceTime every couple of days,” I say. “I mean, the last time was a week ago. But I didn’t …" I shake my head, the guilt running through me. How could I not have known? How did I not notice?

  "He had a strict routine. No one would be allowed in his room when you would call,” he says. "I wish I had more answers for you as to why he did this, but at the end of the day, he always said that you didn’t need another thing on your plate." I close my eyes, and I don’t even try to stop the tears. The man who stood by my side when I found out I was pregnant. The man who didn’t judge me or look at me different when I told him who the father was. The man who didn’t force me to change my mind when I left his name off the birth certificate. The man who loved me so fucking unconditionally and didn’t want me to be burdened. “He said you had your life out there and didn’t need to come back here."

  "He was one of a kind," I finally say with a little smile.

  "He was,” he says and looks down at his paper. “Now for the
nitty-gritty stuff."

  I look at him, not sure I understand. “Obviously, he left you everything that he has." I nod at him. “But his finances …" He grabs a stack of envelopes all held together by a blue rubber band. My eyes focus on that stack of papers. “His finances were not great."

  "What do you mean?" I ask, confused. My grandfather always made sure everything was paid in full. It was his Southern pride that he was never late with anything. He would starve before he was late paying a bill.

  "The farm had been declining in the past couple of years,” he says. “He had trouble keeping up with the repairs." He takes a deep breath. “And then add the medical bills that came with him being sick."

  "What are you saying?" I ask, my heart beating so fast now it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

  "The house was going into foreclosure,” he says. “It’s obviously been stalled now since he passed away. They will give you the appropriate thirty days to make sure you put his affairs in order."

  "Foreclosure,” I say, not sure I heard him right over the pounding of my heart. I don’t listen to the rest of what he says. When he turns and gets up, he walks around his desk and hands me the stack of envelopes.

  "I will be with you every single step of the way,” he says. “If you have any questions or concerns, all you have to do is call me."

  I get up now, my legs a little shaky. “Thank you,” I say, holding the stack of bills that now feel like they weigh a ton. "I’ll let you know if I have any questions."

  He walks me out, and I spot Sofia, who jumps up from the floor where she’s coloring with crayons to come over to me. She stops and then turns back, going to grab the paper. “I made you a picture, Momma." She hands me the picture, and I look down at it. “It’s me, you, and Pops,” she says. I bend to pick her up in my arms.

  "It’s beautiful,” I say as I turn and nod at Mr. Devlyn and his secretary, fighting back more tears. When I leave the office, the heat of the sun hits me right away. “Did you have fun?" I ask as I walk with her in my arms.