Angered Seasons: The Worst Birthday Ever (Volume One)

by Chester, Mireille

  Angered Seasons

  Part One

  Mireille Chester

  Copyright © 2012 by Mireille Chester

  Published by Mireille Chester

  Smashwords Edition

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any way, shape, or form without the express written permission of the author. For more information, please visit http://mireillechester.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  My arm hurts. Seriously. It hurts a lot. Or maybe the best way to describe it is burn. It burns. I reach down without thinking about it, trying to pull the edge of the bandage down so it completely covers the gash in my forearm. The pain is like a paper cut; but like I’d slid the entire five hundred sheets of paper in the pack across my arm. Being thrown into a power pole and sliding down one of the thick metal wires that helped keep it straight could do that to a girl. It’s a miracle I hadn’t broken anything. Now that the excitement is finally at an end, it occurs to me that I’d kill for a tube of Polysporin right now. My arm isn’t infected; I make sure to clean it a few times a day, but there’s that one kind, the kids’ one, that has a pain killer in it. It would have been nice to just take the edge off.

  I look around the living room of the little house we’d been living in. The whole place is cute. Cozy. Whoever had lived here had taken care of the place. Of course, now, it’s covered in a layer of dust, the windows are all broken, and some of the furniture has been destroyed. There’s no more power, well, no more anything anymore, really. No phones, no radios, no computers. No cash machines, no jobs, well, you get the point.

  There’s a groan from the lump under the sheet on the couch and I make my way over to it. The dark blue sheet slips to reveal a mess of blond hair falling over a pale face. I frown. Max is usually a shade lighter than everyone else, but this is extreme even for him. It was one of the reasons I’d thought him to be about fourteen the first time I’d seen him. It makes him look younger than his nineteen years. I press my lips to his forehead to check for a fever and brush his hair back with a sigh of relief when I can’t feel any.

  A glint of sunlight on something metallic catches my eye through one of the shattered windows and I go to stand on the front porch. The first thing I see is a German Shepherd loping towards me. I recognize the tattered white t-shirt and bloodied jeans as they ride over the next hill on a little bay mare. I know that as he gets closer I’ll be able to see the swollen left eye, the cut on his left leg. I lean against one of the railings, ignoring the protesting my stiff and sore muscles are doing, and watch with a small smile.

  It feels good to smile. The past year hasn’t given us many reasons to do so.

  Lane slides out of the saddle and sits beside me on the steps while Bella drops her head to graze.

  “It’s warm, but it’s still beer.” He grins and hands me a can of Canadian.

  “Where the hell did you manage to find these?” I tap the top with my fingernail to get rid of any fizz that might have occurred do to traveling on horseback. I am not wasting one drop of this beer. Both of our cans crack open with a satisfying ‘pshh’.

  His grin widens. “Just drink the beer.”

  I take a long swallow and I know he’s watching me because it’s what he’s done since we were five. The beer is hot and bitter because of it, but I don’t care. I down half the can and sigh.

  Lane tucks some unruly red hair behind my ear and turns my face gently so he can press his lips to my forehead. He pulls back and smiles softly.

  “Happy birthday.”

  I blink. A year. I have to admit that I was just reaching for a ball park figure when I told you the past year had been rough. God, who am I kidding? You’ve probably figured out that rough doesn’t come close to covering it. It’s hard to keep track of time since the seasons don’t exist anymore. It’s supposed to be winter right now. Winter in Canada means freezing temperatures and snow, yet I’m walking around in capris and a tank top. I honestly have no idea what day, let alone what month it is. But Lane knows. Today is January fifteenth. Last January fifteenth, I turned thirty-two and life as me and the rest of the world’s population knew it went to shit. Complete shit.

  I lean against Lane and he wraps one of those strong arms around me, careful of the gash on mine. Maybe I’d better start at the beginning. You’re probably wondering what the hell happened, who I am, where I am, and all that jazz. Sorry. I’ve never been great at introductions.

  My name is Gabrielle Gauthier, though most people call me Gabby, and this is my story…

  The Worst Birthday… Ever

  “What do you think? The black one or the green one.” I walked out of my bedroom holding up two dresses. The black one, a silk ankle length with a v-neck; the dark green one, a knee high that cut up at an angle and did the one shoulder thing up top. I rotated them, first holding the black one then the green one in front of me. I stopped when it became obvious that Lane wasn’t looking.

  “Lane!”

  He glanced up from his book and looked as I showed him the dresses one more time. He cocked his head to the side as he thought it over. “Green.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He nodded. “Only if you’re not wearing that bra.”

  I looked down at black bikini panties and matching bra and I realized he was talking about the fact that I needed a strapless to go under the dress.

  “I’m going to get the black strapless.”

  He nodded again and went back to his book. I walked past him, this time in the proper bra, to the kitchen where I pulled a beer out of the fridge.

  “Do you want one?” I peeked over the counter to see him nod. “Canadian or Pil?”

  “Canadian.”

  I popped the cap off of both bottles before putting his on the end table by his head. I plopped down on the loveseat across from him and took a long swallow of my beer while I waited for my hair to dry around the curlers.

  “What are you reading now?”

  “Under the Skin by Michel Faber.” He glanced at me before sitting up to drink his beer. He carefully put the bookmark to hold his place and set the book down on the coffee table. I’d borrowed a book and made the mistake of bending a page to hold my place once years ago. He’d had a conniption. Lane loved his books and took very good care of them. “It’s about aliens that come to earth and harvest humans for meat.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Gross.” I decided to change the topic. “So what are you going to wear tonight?”

  He shrugged, went to his room and came out holding a light blue button up shirt and a red one much in the same fashion as I had with the dresses.

  “Well, you can’t wear red. We’ll look like Christmas.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “Since we’re not dating, I wouldn’t think it mattered if we clashed.” He went back into the room and reappeared wearing the light blue one, tucking it into his black jeans as he made his way back to the living room. And just like that, he was ready.

  “You might want to phone Brian and make sure he’s not wearing red. God forbid you look like Christmas in January.” He chuckled and took a sip of his beer before picking up his book which he had to set down again as his ce
ll phone beeped at him. He picked it up, smiled, and sent a text message.

  “Who was that?”

  “Michelle. She’ll be a few minutes late, but she’ll meet us there.”

  I tried to keep the frown off of my face, but he noticed.

  “Gabby, we’ve been through this. I like her.”

  “The woman slapped me across the face in my own home.”

  “You took her by surprise!” His dark blue eyes met mine and he ran a hand through his dark brown hair. His jaw clenched like I knew it did when he got upset. It never failed. “We were on the couch watching a movie and you came waltzing out of the bedroom wearing a bra and your underwear!”

  “I always walk around in my bra and my underwear when I get ready to go out.”

  “I know! And after I explained that nothing was going on with us, she calmed down.”

  I blew out of my nose in frustration. Of all the women he could have chosen to date. “She doesn’t like me. I try to be nice, I swear.”

  His jaw loosened and his mouth curled at the corners. He had a great smile which was one of the reasons women fell left and right for him. The dark blue eyes were also phenomenal. Other than his mom, I’d never seen that color on anyone else. Add the dark brown hair, permanently tanned skin no matter which season it was, and the strong but not over-muscled build and even I had to admit the man was gorgeous. Of course, that was from a woman’s point of view. From my point of view, he was Lane. Annoying, nerdy, my best friend since we’d been five, Lane. I always thought it funny that even though he had more than enough women interested, he’d only had five or six girlfriends and none of the relationships had lasted more than six months. Of course, I couldn’t talk; I barely dated.

  “I know you’re trying and I love you for it.” He walked over and kissed my forehead. “It’s not your fault you’re beautiful.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If that’s why she hates me, you should just break up with her. You deserve someone with a bit more maturity than that. How old is she again?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “See. My point exactly. You need someone at least our age.”

  He grunted. “It wouldn’t matter if she was twenty-two, thirty, or fifty… the instant you come walking out of your bedroom in just your underwear, any woman is bound to do a double take.”

  “She knew we lived together.”

  He opened his mouth and closed it before taking another drink of his beer. “Did you pick up the extra drywall we’ll need Monday?”

  I decided to go with his change of subject and nodded. “It’s at the shop. They were going to deliver it to the house, but I didn’t like the idea of it being there all weekend. That guy’s kids are crazy.”

  Lane grinned. “That, they are.”

  “I was thinking that after this job is done we’d take a couple weeks and do something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Let’s go skiing. We haven’t gone this year yet. I could phone tomorrow and book us a hotel. How about Jasper?”

  He nodded. “Sure. The MacKenzie fellow said he didn’t want us to start on his basement until the middle of February and Jason’s crew can handle the Granger remodel.”

  “We’ll put Max and Pete on office duty and they can take care of pickups and deliveries for the other guys. I know Pete can’t afford two weeks without pay with that brand new baby.” I smiled. “Man, she is so cute. Did you see how he lit up when Marie brought her in to see him the other day?”

  Lane smiled though I noticed it slipped as his eyes ran over me. He’d sure been moody lately.

  “Go finish getting ready and I’ll feed Iggy.”

  The iguana didn’t raise his head at the sound of his name. Iguanas don’t do much.

  I went to stand in front of my mirror and pulled the curlers out of my hair. My red hair fell to my shoulder blades in thick curls. I fluffed it up and added a bit of hairspray.

  “Let’s go, Freckles… we’re going to be late!” I heard him head outside to start the truck.

  I smirked at Lane’s nickname. He’d teased me about my freckles in typical five year old boy fashion the first day he’d met me. I wasn’t completely covered in them, which was a bonus, but I did have a healthy sprinkling of them on my cheeks. I’d given up trying to cover them up years ago. My makeup was limited to a bit of eyeliner and mascara. The green dress slipped over my decent curves like a cool wave and I tugged at it to make it sit where it should. I pulled out a pair of black soft leather boots with a two inch heel to finish off the outfit and gazed at the complete picture.

  I had to admit I looked good. I wasn’t drop dead gorgeous or super model tall and skinny, but working in construction kept me toned and in shape and I didn’t mind my average height.

  Lane walked into the room and smiled. “You look great for such an old woman.”

  I grinned. “I’m only turning thirty-two, thank you very much, and not until seven o’clock tonight. And don’t forget, you’re two months away from being an old man, just like me.”

  “Ah, but I’ll always be younger than you.” He made his way to the fridge. “Want another beer? Someone forgot to plug the truck in yesterday so it’s not warm yet.”

  “You took it out last.”

  “You went to Burger King after the movie.”

  I mentally kicked myself. “Ah shit. Did you have to boost it?”

  “No. It was close though.”

  “Why don’t we take the car?”

  “Because it’s thirty below zero and I want the heated seats.”

  “God, you’re a wuss.” I laughed and took a drink. “You know, Mother Nature would pick today to turn winter on. We haven’t had a day colder than minus five all season and then, boom! Two days before my birthday and minus thirty.”

  “It will come back to bite us in the ass, I’m sure. All those people that say global warming isn’t happening need to move up here.”

  I nodded.

  “So, do we need to pick up your man?”

  “No. He said he’d meet us there.” I didn’t tell him Brian had gotten upset when I’d told him the dinner arrangements. He’d insisted on picking me up, but really, what was the big deal? I lived with Lane and we were all going to the same place. I wasn’t one to pick fights, but I’d bluntly reminded him that he hadn’t even remembered my birthday while Lane had and if it weren’t for my best friend, I’d be in my comfy sweats watching TV while Lane read his book instead of heading to Zorba’s for supper and drinks.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I looked up from my thoughts to find Lane leaning against the counter, his ‘I know something’s up’ look on his face.

  “Nothing.” I smiled and hugged him tightly. “Thanks for remembering my birthday.”

  He gave me my usual kiss on the forehead. “Happy birthday, Freckles.” He let go of me and turned off all the lights in our little two bedroom house. “Alright, Iggy. Be a good guard iguana and bite anyone that tries to break in.”

  Iggy didn’t look as we left.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Brian was already sitting with Michelle as we walked in. Michelle’s face lit up at the sight of Lane. She tucked her long blond hair behind her ears and batted long lashes over her light blue eyes. I’m not kidding. She batted. Lane pulled his parka off, hung it on the back of his chair, and gave her a peck before sitting in the chair next to hers. Brian looked at his watch pointedly. He hated when people were late.

  “I forgot to plug the truck in last night.” I started to apologize then stopped. I hated how he always made me feel like I was wrong and I had to be sorry. We’d been together two months and I had gotten to the point where I knew it wasn’t going to go any farther. I’d already made up my mind to call things off. As he frowned and made me feel like I was ten, I decided that tomorrow was as good a day as any. It was too bad, I thought to myself. The man was quite a catch. Head of his own law firm, thirty-five, in great shape… There were a few women out there just waiting for us to break up. Wel
l, they’d have to wait another night. Tonight, I wanted to have fun. No drama allowed.

  The waitress stopped at the table and took our orders. I grinned.

  “Hey, Lisa.”

  Lisa, a friend of mine from highschool, looked up from her order pad and smiled. “Hey, Gabs!” She gave me a hug then almost choked Lane with one for him.

  “I thought you were quitting here the last time I ran into you.”

  She shrugged. “I was going to, but you just can’t beat the tips.”

  “How are the kids?”

  Her face lit up as she set down her pad and pen and reached into her back pocket. She handed me a picture of a six year old boy and a three year old girl, both of them with Lisa’s dark curly hair and their father’s dark brown eyes.

  “Oh, my god, they’re getting big.”

  She smiled sadly. “Yeah. It goes by too quick.”

  Lane reached over and gave her arm a squeeze. “How are you doing?”

  She shrugged and pulled herself up a bit straighter. “Good. Alright, I guess. We manage. My mom and Charlie’s mom and dad help out a lot. They take turns watching the kids when I work.” Her smile returned. “But, enough about me. What’s the occasion? Gabs, you look phenomenal!”

  My face turned red.

  “It’s Gabby’s birthday.” Lane grinned at me.

  “Ooh! Happy birthday! Do you want me to announce it? If I announce it, then the cooks come out with a cake and do a little song and dance.” She leaned in so just I could hear. “The new cook is on tonight and, trust me, it is worth it.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  The conversation turned back to our orders and Lisa left to get our drinks and to get the cooks on our supper.

  Supper was a bit awkward for a birthday celebration. I fairly well ignored Brian and Michelle and talked shop with Lane. Michelle glared at me while Brian glared at Lane. By the time our meal was over, I was ready to call it a night. We ordered one last drink, Lane ordering another coke since he was driving.