by J. E. Cluney
The week passed by quicker than I thought, and before I knew it, we were hitting the road Friday afternoon. It wasn’t too long of a drive, roughly two hours, but Bee Sting took over, cranking the music when Bon Jovi came on.
We hurtled down the highway, belting out the lyrics to ‘It’s my Life’ and grinning like idiots at one another.
Allison knew almost all of their songs by heart, and I loved hearing her singing along, swaying and getting right into the groove of it.
Seeing her so full of life and happy made joy surge through me. I couldn’t help but grin and sing with her, loving her laughter when I messed up some lyrics.
It made the drive all that much quicker, and before long, we were turning down the old dirt road that I remembered well.
I’d grown up here for the beginning of my life, until my parents chose to send me to live with my grandmother to complete my schooling.
My sister, Samantha, was lucky enough that homeschooling became an option, and my mother helped her learn via a distance education program online.
They tried to get me to come home, but with my grandmother’s help, I’d been able to stay and continue my schooling with her.
Until they won out in high school.
“I’m sorry they dragged you back,” Allison sighed, having overheard my rambling thoughts.
“Don’t be. Besides, it helped me decide to pursue environmental science. I saw how they were struggling with the beef industry, and I started to wonder if there were better ways to feed this world,” I explained.
My mind moved to when I’d visited the university when I’d returned for my grandmother’s funeral. I caught up with Lucas and Ollie, and they told me of their plans to study at Corviticus. Lucas had got me looking at courses, and he’d offered me a room to stay in if I chose to. As soon as he made the offer, I’d made up my mind after viewing the courses. I returned to the family farm for the remainder of the year, and then made the move to Maple Grove to study despite my parents’ protests.
I was yanked out of my thoughts as the red motorcycle letterbox came into view.
“Cute,” Allison remarked as I turned into the driveway.
The cruiser rattled over the cattle grid, and then we were bumping down the dirt drive, dust billowing out behind us.
“How long’s the driveway?” she asked as she frowned out the front window, no house in sight.
“Two kilometers,” I informed her.
She just made a surprised sound at this before settling back into her seat.
We headed through the various cattle paddocks, rattling over a handful of cattle grids before the old Queenslander style home came into view.
“Nice place,” Allison murmured.
Mom had mentioned she’d given it a fresh coat of paint recently, and it definitely brought the old home to life a bit more.
I pulled up beside my father’s beat up farm ute, my mother’s little green hatchback on the other side with the paint peeling and faded.
The sun beat down on us, and I shut the engine off and stepped out into the hot air.
Yep. I was definitely home.
“Skippy!”
I cringed at the name as Allison mentally laughed in my mind, and I shot her a displeased look, which only resulted in a broad grin.
“Just Skip, mom,” I groaned.
“Oh, this must be Allison!” my mother’s voice rose in delight.
I’d made sure to ask her if Allison could tag along, which was met with some not so subtle texts asking if she was my girlfriend.
I’d managed to dodge them to some extent.
My mother hurried down the stairs from the old white Queenslander. She looked a little older than I remembered, her blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun and her rounded face all lit up with joy and delight.
Her blue eyes showed the truth though, they were tired and weary, crows feet crinkling in the corners as she pulled me into a tight hug.
“I’m glad you made it here safely,” she said, giving me a squeeze before pulling back and turning to Allison.
“It’s so wonderful to meet you, Allison. Thanks for accompanying my son out here. I’m Lisa,” she beamed before hugging Allison.
Allison grinned over my mother’s shoulder at me, and I just rolled my eyes.
“Come upstairs, I’ve got a lamb roast on, it’ll be ready in about an hour. I’m sure you must be thirsty after the drive,” she said as she turned back towards the house.
‘I’ll grab the bags,’ I informed Bee Sting.
She nodded softly before following after my mother as I collected up our two bags for the weekend and headed after them.
I headed straight for my old bedroom, finding it had been turned into the guest room but still had a few of my old possessions in there. A bookcase with assorted bits and pieces was the main reminder that I once lived there.
I dumped the bags on the end of the queen bed before heading back out to the kitchen.
I faltered as I passed my sister’s room, glancing in to see her on her bed, texting on her phone.
She didn’t even say hello, just raised an eyebrow at me, as if I was simply a bother for looking at her. I just continued on, not bothering to let her get to me.
Nothing had changed with her, clearly.
I walked into the kitchen to find my mother pouring some fresh juice into a glass for Allison as she sat at the round dining table.
I joined her, accepting the offered glass of juice and downing it in a few gulps.
“So, Allison, you live with Skip and the boys?” my mother asked as she sat down with us, sipping from her own glass as she watched us both carefully.
She was definitely digging for some hints about what we were to each other.
Guess I wasn’t going to get through this weekend easily, especially since I’d dumbly said we could share the queen bed.
That had sparked her interest majorly.
“Yes, I do, I’m studying Veterinary Science with Oliver,” Bee Sting said carefully.
“Yes, Oliver, I hear his curse has been lifted. Skip has been a little vague about that, but you helped, somehow, right?” she enquired, her brow furrowing softly as she took another gulp of her juice.
“Um, yeah,” Allison said slowly, glancing at me for help. Explaining how she’d helped was going to be interesting.
“Where’s dad?” I asked quickly, hoping to divert the conversation.
“Oh, he’s in the shed tinkering on his old Ford, you know how much he loves that old thing,” mom sighed and rolled her eyes, but a small smile touched her lips. She was always grateful for any of his hobbies or interests. They helped divert his nastiness towards her at times.
I pushed the thought out of my mind. She’d said he’d gotten better, cut back on the drinking and was less nasty than he used to be.
“His name is William,” my mom quickly added for Allison’s sake, although she already knew that from our bond.
“What sort of car is it?” Allison asked, clearly wanting to keep from falling back to the original topic.
“Um, what was it?” my mother mused as she looked to me for guidance.
Mom had never been good with cars.
“Ford XB Fairmont Coupe. He’s restoring it slowly,” I answered for her.
Allison nodded, but I knew she had no idea, so I mentally sent her an idea of what it looked like.
“So, Allison, what’s it like living with my son?” my mother moved onto interrogating Allison lightly.
“He’s fine to live with, plays his PlayStation a bit,” Allison said with a shrug.
“I never could get him to do his washing each week. He’d always wait until he had no clothes left, and most of the time he’d just rewear old clothes,” my mother groaned.
“I don’t think he does that now,” Allison shot me an amused look.
Okay, maybe sometimes I’d rewear something, but I’d gotten better at making sure my washing was done.
“And that PlayStation.
He used to play it at night all the time. He and Samantha used to fight about it because he liked to play online, and we haven’t got the best internet here, so it would slow down and there’d be arguments,” my mother groaned.
“How’s Samantha going anyway?” I asked curiously as I tapped my fingers on my glass.
“She’s going good. She’ll be finishing up her schooling next year. She’s not sure what she’ll do afterwards, if she’ll study at uni or help out around here. She’s made some friends in town, so she sees them often now,” my mother said with a small smile.
Right. I’m sure these friends were a great influence on her. When she turned fourteen a few years back, she’d started going into town more, and I knew she didn’t hang with the greatest crowds. But mom and dad were wrapped around her little pinky, so they weren’t going to say anything about her poor choice of friends and how she now lived on her phone like it was her life support.
As if summoned, Samantha waltzed into the kitchen, her blue eyes rolling over Allison carelessly.
“Samantha! This is Allison, Skip’s friend,” my mother made a clear show of pointing out that we had guests.
Samantha opened the fridge, made some sort of mumbled attempt at a ‘hi’, grabbed a lemonade, and strode straight out without a second glance.
I just raised an eyebrow at my mother before informing Allison mentally that this was completely normal.
“She’s just tired, she’s been studying hard,” my mother said quickly before smiling at Allison warmly. “So, Allison, tell me more about yourself. Skip tells me you’re a pixie/werewolf mix, but he mentioned there was more to you than that.”
I leaned back as I coached Bee Sting on what to say through our bond, on what to not bother bringing up. We were able to successfully dodge the whole mated thing for now.
My mother’s questions on Allison’s banshee powers were cut short when my father joined us, hobbling along with a walking stick, his left leg in a cast.
“Nice to see you, boy,” he grunted as he limped over and patted me on the shoulder.
“This must be Allison, lovely to meet ya,” he nodded firmly at Bee Sting.
He shuffled over and collapsed in one of the vacant chairs around the table, stinking of fuel and car oils.
And cigarette smoke. Something I’d begun to forget the stench of. Now it was a pungent reminder of my childhood. Especially on my more sensitive shifter nose, but he would never give it up.
“So, you here to help your old man, do what ya meant to do, huh?” my father raised an eyebrow at me.
Allison became uneasy as I refrained from growling at him.
“I’m here to help out before I head home and continue my studies,” I said firmly.
“Studies,” my father snorted, clearly unimpressed, as per usual. “You got a farm right ‘ere!”
“Dinner will be ready in twenty, maybe you should go shower, hun,” my mother suggested, tensing up as she stood by the oven.
“Yeah, it’ll take me fucking twenty minutes to shower with this piece of shit,” my father growled as he glared at his cast.
Allison remained silent as my father groaned and heaved himself to his feet. He was a solid man, as were all red kangaroo shifter men. But he was starting to bald, and he’d lost a few teeth over the years from the bar fights he’d gotten in over the years. He had a habit of popping down to the pub every Friday afternoon to unwind.
I watched my father hobble off down the hall and into the bathroom.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just grumpy about his leg,” my mother murmured.
“You’re always making excuses for them both,” I sighed once I heard the shower running.
My mother didn’t respond as she began busying herself with turning the roast veggies over.
’So, has it always been like this?’ Bee Sting’s voice rung out in my mind.
‘Pretty much.’
“Your father has gotten better, I think his leg has just set him back a bit,” my mother said after she’d closed the oven again.
My mother refused to see how toxic the family had become.
It reminded me of a saying I’d heard back at school. It had started to make more and more sense over the years.
Better the devil you know.
My mother had grown used to this way of life, she’d adapted to it, and it was all she knew. Why leave and try to find something better? For all she knew, she could end up worse off.
That was her logic anyway, as I’d spoken to her about it when things had gotten bad a number of times and he’d threatened divorce before speeding off at night and not returning for hours.
He never apologized either, which only infuriated me more.
Somehow, I’d not turned out like him, which I was grateful for. At least I’d spent most of my life with my grandmother, in a good environment. Guess that’s why it was so easy for me to see how bad things were when I’d returned for my teen years to help out.
“Want me to help with anything?” Allison offered, and my thoughts quietened.
“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll just set the table and such,” my mother waved her off.
Allison was always so sweet, always wanting to help out wherever she could. How had I gotten so lucky to have become her chosen mate?
I’d never thought I could love again, but then she came along.
‘I love you too,’ Allison murmured into my mind as she smiled softly at me.
Dinner wasn’t too bad. My father returned less cranky it seemed, and struck up conversation with Allison, even sharing some stories about me when I was small, before I’d gone to live with my grandmother.
Samantha came out and asked to have her dinner in her room, which rubbed my dad the wrong way but he allowed it.
He told her about the cattle farm industry, which they were struggling in with the growing drought conditions each year.
I jumped in where I could, and the tenseness between us faded away. He was being civil now, which I was grateful for.
Mom bought out a golden syrup pudding for dessert as my father informed me of the jobs he needed help with while I was visiting.
Allison was practically drooling at the delicious aroma of it as my mom placed it down on the table.
She’d remembered I’d loved it from the last time I’d visited, and I smiled softly at her when she gave me a knowing smile.
We dug in as mom served up some ice-cream with it, and my father began talking about his plans for the farm.
“Samantha, dessert is ready!” my mother called out.
“If she’s too rude to join us for dinner, than she doesn’t deserve dessert,” my father growled.
Guess he was finally getting tired of her ruling the roost.
“She’s just not up for being social,” my mother murmured.
“No, she’s rude. I should’ve seen all the signs over the years. We created this monster,” my father snapped.
My mother didn’t say a word as she settled into her seat to eat.
Samantha strode out a few seconds later, glancing at my father in a way that made him grit his teeth.
She seemed smug, like she knew she was getting away with being a bitch.
My blood was boiling already at the way she was ignoring Allison as she helped herself to the dessert.
“You going to sit with us?” my father asked, his tone harsh and low as he beckoned at the vacant seat beside him.
“Nah, I’m watching something,” she said with a casual shrug.
Allison stiffened as she glanced at me. She could feel the growing animosity in the room too.
“We have a guest over, and your brother,” my father growled, his brow creasing as he began to scowl.
Things were going to get ugly.
“So?” Samantha raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to give Allison and I the slightest glance.
“It’s fine,” my mother said quickly, but my father was already shoving his seat out from the table, the legs scraping harshly on the
wooden floor as he shot to his feet.
“It is not fine! We did not raise you be such a self-centered, rude little shit!” he snarled.
Allison sunk into her chair, flinching as my dad slammed his fists down on the table as he struggled on his dud leg.
I could feel her fear bubbling to the surface quickly, and I knew it was bringing up ugly memories and feelings for her.
“You kinda did,” Samantha shot back. “This whole family sucks.”
“Get out!” my father shrieked.
“I can’t! I don’t have a license or a car!” my sister shouted back.
Allison was trembling now, and I reached under the table to squeeze her thigh reassuringly.
“Enough, please,” my mother pleaded as she shot looks of dismay between them.
“You do absolutely nothing to help out, you don’t help with the dishes or the farm work, all you do is sit on your phone all day and talk your mother into taking you into town!” my father was now spitting with rage.
The whole room fell silent as screaming started up, a shrill sound that pierced the air like glass.
“What the fuck?” Samantha’s eyes went huge as she stared at the table.
My gaze fell, and I inwardly groaned. Allison gasped, but before she could do anything, the pudding had launched off the table, splitting into two and hurling itself at both my sister and father, all the while screaming like bloody murder at a high octave.
My sister squealed as the pudding slammed into her dress, soaking her in sticky golden syrup, while my father swore as the other half hit him in the abdomen and began crawling up him with tiny pudding arms.
“I’m sorry!” Allison cried out as she flung her hand out, withdrawing the mischief magic.
The room was silent as the two halves of the pudding flopped to the floor with a large squelching sound.
At least there was still some on my plate to eat.
“What…?” my father mumbled as he looked accusingly at Allison.
To hell if he was going to rip into her too now.
“She’s part pixie, grew up not knowing about her powers, they were kept at bay with a magicked pendant. Now the mischief magic can flare up in times of emotional distress,” I said, choosing my words carefully.
