Landlady: A New Adult Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 1) (15 page)

BOOK: Landlady: A New Adult Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 1)
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“Did she leave me anything?” Jordan asked.

Of course, he'd say something like that. He didn't even go to the
funeral, and now he had the gall to ask about her will?

I shrugged. “You'll have to ask her estate lawyer.”

“Can't fucking believe this,” he muttered. “I'm six years older
than you.”

“Watch your mouth, Jordan. That's no way to speak to your sister
after such a long time apart,” Mom admonished.

“What do you want me to say to her? Congratulations on getting my
house?”

“Son, that's enough. Don't be petty,” Dad said. “If you're
going to upset your sister, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

I remembered seeing Cally and Cameron talking outside the room. “Can
you call Cally inside? I'd like to talk to her.”

“Of course, dear. Would you like something to eat? Drink?”

I didn't really, but to make Mom feel useful, I requested a sandwich
and some apple juice.

Once they left, Cally slipped into the room and locked the door.

“Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry about what happened,” Cally said.

“I'm fine. No need for a pity party.”

“I know you're a tough girl, but still, you broke your leg, Sisi.”

“It'll heal. I'm young and healthy.” I crooked my finger and
invited her closer. Once she was by my side, I whispered, “Did
Asher really stay here all night?”

Callista nodded. “Cameron said so.”

I felt a bit giddy. Asher's words rang through my head.
You think
I'd sleep in that shitty chair all night for anybody?

“He's totally falling for you,” Callista said. “You should've
seen how worried he looked earlier. He's got it real bad.”

“Shut up, Cally.”

“Just telling the truth,” she said. “Cameron says when he found
out about your accident, he nearly lost his mind. He was so guilty
and angry at himself.”

Another bubble of joy burst in my chest. I felt weightless.

“So are you two going to get together or what?” Callista asked.

“I don't think so,” I said. “Actually, I don't even want to
think about that. I just want to get better; that's my main goal.
Missing work for the next two or three weeks will really set me back.
Financially. I'm not sure where I'm going to find the money to pay my
bills.”

“Your parents want to bring you back to the farm.”

I bit my lip. “I might have to take them up on that offer. I have
no vacation or disability pay.”

“What kind of shit job do you have?” Callista asked.

“The worst kind,” I replied. “Anyway, it would make things a
lot easier if I stayed with my parents for a few weeks. Clear my mind
a bit.”

“I'll come see you at least once a week,” Callista said. “Work
is getting busier so I don't think I can promise you more.”

“Once a week is plenty,” I said. “I'll be fine. Roxy will love
it.” Roxy was my eight-year-old thoroughbred horse. Well, I guess
she belonged to my parents now. I'd left her behind when I moved to
Northbridge. I couldn't wait to ride
—oh crap.
Already forgot I wouldn't be able to ride her with this stupid cast.

Callista smiled. “I guess it'll be like a summer vacation.”

“Yeah, except I'll be hobbling around on crutches, feeding pigs and
chicken. I'll be useless, and it won't be much fun. If I stay at the
farm, there will be no end to the complaints from Mom and Dad.
They'll try to make me stay there forever. Move back home. Plus all
my bills, student loans
—I'll be bleeding
money.

“Maybe not. Now that you have a house in the city




Trust me, they'll want me to sell
the house and invest that money in the farm.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” I said. “They're miffed Grandma left it to me. Not
as much as Jordan, but they're still upset. After all, if they’d
inherited it, they would’ve sold it and bought new farm equipment.
Did repairs on the house. Started retirement savings. They're not
exactly young anymore. Too bad they weren't on speaking terms with
Grandma. They kept saying how foolish Grandma was for fueling my
impossible dream.”

“I never thought about it like that,” Callista said. “Well, if
you don't want to stay with them, you're welcome to continue staying
with me. I can cook for you




You've already done way too much
for me, Cally. Besides, I don't think I could stand seeing Brandon's
stinky mug for one more day. He hates me, you know.”

“Oh come on now




Don't deny it, Cally.”

“Fine. But if you ever get tired of the farm, I'm just a phone call
away. I'll pick you up and bring you back to the city. You just tell
me when.”

I beamed. “I love you, you know that, Cally?”

“Love you too, Sisi.” Callista leaned over and gave me a light
hug and then a peck on the forehead.

After Cally had left for work, Mom and Dad came back with some food
and drinks. They said Jordan had to go to work as well, and he might
not come back to visit. I was fine with that.

“So have you given more thought to what we said?” Dad asked.
“About coming home for the summer?”

“Just for a few weeks of course,” Mom said, careful not to step
on any toes. “Until you're all better.”

I took a deep breath and mustered my best smile. “I think it's a
great idea.”

Mom stood up and did a happy dance. Dad laughed. “'Atta girl.”

I hadn't seen the two of them so happy in a long time.

Mom stroked my cheek. “Look how thin you've gotten since you moved
to the city. I'm going to have to fatten you back up.”

“Mom, I don't want to be fattened up like a pig. I'm fine.” I'd
struggled with weight issues throughout high school because Mom had
insisted on slathering all our meals in home-made butter and fresh
cream. I didn't eat very well now, but I still didn't want to put on
extra weight if I didn't need to.

“Not like a pig, dear,” Mom said. “Just going to put some meat
back on these bones.”

+++

ASHER CAME BACK TO visit me every day until I was discharged. I was
surprised by his determination, but I didn't question his motives. It
felt nice to be pampered; I hadn't had that kind of luxury in a long
time. Asher brought me fresh bouquets and Mylar balloons and snuck me
cake and junk food when the nurses weren't looking. He was
unbelievably sweet. However, in all his visits, Asher never brought
up anything about going on a date again. I was actually quite
disappointed but not surprised. After all, I wouldn't want to date a
chick with a broken leg either. I wondered if we'd be dating now if
I’d never broken my leg. Asher even stopped making sexual
innuendos, which I missed. By the time I was discharged, I could only
think that he came to visit because he felt guilty and somehow
responsible for my accident.

Even though I'd told him a million times it had nothing to do with
him.

He was being a good friend, which I appreciated. I wanted more but
wasn't in a position to ask.

Cam swung by and visited me once, the day before I got discharged.
He'd been wracked with guilt as well. I reassured him that we were
even now and that he could go back to running his bar without any
worries. When I told him I’d be living with my parents for a bit he
seemed grateful that I'd have someone to look after me. We parted as
friends.

Callista came after Cam and brought me some snacks as well as fresh
daisies. She'd also made a cheesy 'Get Well' card which I loved.

I was discharged Thursday afternoon. My parents drove me home in
their pickup truck so I could pack my suitcase. Mom wanted to help
me, but I didn't want to seem completely useless, so I refused. I did
let Dad follow me to the back door, though, in case I fell down. I
was just getting the hang of using crutches, but it was a lot of hard
work and the ends really dug into my armpits, hard.

It would be a long six to eight weeks.

I didn't know whether or not to tell Asher I'd be going straight to
the farm. He knew I was being discharged, but he said he was busy at
work so he'd text me later. I guess he assumed I'd be home when he
got back.

To be polite, I decided to send him a text while I was packing.

SIERRA:
Thank you for looking after me this week and coming to
visit. I really appreciate it. I'm heading straight over to my
parent's farm to recuperate so I guess I'll see you when I get back
in a few weeks. If you need anything, I'm a phone call away. Sierra.

I rolled up several outfits and tucked them into my large suitcase.
Then I grabbed a few personal toiletry items. My parents could supply
everything else. I found myself checking my phone every few seconds,
wondering when he'd text back. When I was finally done, I grabbed my
keys off the counter and did one last sweep of the basement before
leaving. I leaned against one crutch while I locked the door. Dad
lugged my suitcase down to the curb and helped me load it into the
backseat.

My phone dinged.

About time.

ASHER:
What's your parent's address?

SIERRA:
Why? Are you going to send me snail mail? ;)

ASHER:
I'm going to come visit you.

SIERRA:
It's like in the middle of nowhere. An hour's drive away
from here.

ASHER:
Don't make me hack into your phone and track your GPS.

SIERRA:
Stalker much? Maybe I don't want you to visit.

ASHER:
Two to three weeks holed up on a farm. With your parents
and the animals. You'll want me to visit, trust me.

SIERRA:
What's wrong with my parents' farm? I grew up there. It's
nice.

ASHER:
Nothing wrong. It's nice, but it's not your home anymore.
You'll just be bored out of your mind. I'm offering free
entertainment.

SIERRA:
Oh, what kind of entertainment?

“What are you doing, Sierra? Get in the car,” Mom snapped.

“Sorry,” I apologized. Dad helped me get into the backseat, and I
buckled in. As Dad sped away, I received another text from Asher.

ASHER:
The best kind there is.

Aaaand he's back.

I grinned. I'd missed our witty bantering over the past week. He'd
been so serious in all his visits (was it because my parents were
close by?) that I’d been worried he'd lost his sense of humor.

SIERRA:
159 Langley Grove. If you get lost, ask for Maywood Farms.
Everyone knows it.

ASHER:
Can I come tomorrow after work?

SIERRA:
Miss me already?

ASHER:
You have no idea.

I silently fist pumped the air and smiled to myself. He missed me.
Which meant he liked me, at least to some extent. I mean, a normal
person wouldn't drive an hour to visit someone they didn't like,
right?

I didn't say much the entire ride to the farm. Asher needed to get
back to work, and I needed to stop acting so desperate. After all, I
couldn't afford to get too attached. Our situation was
unconventional, to say the least. I'd only make it worse by trying to
put a label on it or overthink everything he did. It was best if kept
my expectations low.

City blocks melted into highways, which melted into scenic farmland
and eventually dirt roads. I plugged in my earbuds, put on some
trance music and took a little nap. I earned it. The doctor said I
needed to rest as much as possible.

When I woke up, I was struck by a familiar scent. Ah, nothing like
the smell of fresh manure to jolt you back to your senses. The farm
still looked, smelled, and sounded exactly the same. Slanted,
green-gabled roof, miles of yellow-green pasture and the familiar
sound of barnyard animals, cooing and snorting nearby.

I eased out of the car and landed right in a mud puddle. The filth
splattered all over my sweatpants, and I cursed myself for not
wearing boots. I looked up the pitted driveway and realized it would
be an obstacle course for someone on crutches.

“Hold on, Sierra, wait for me to get out first,” Dad said,
rushing to my side. I hadn't seen him so worried about me in a long
time. He took my arm and hooked it around his right shoulder. “Lean
on me. Watch out for puddles. Doc says you can't get your cast wet.”

I winced as I hobbled down the uneven path leading up to the farm.
I'd need to take my acetaminophen soon because I could feel heat and
blinding white pain shooting up my numb leg. At some point during the
ride, circulation had slowed to my leg and I couldn't feel anything
below my knee anymore.

“Sisi, baby, don't rush. Slow down,” Mom called from behind us.

After much struggle, and with both my parents' help, I finally
managed to get inside the house. My parents' two-storey rancher was
almost ninety-three years old. Dad had inherited from his father, my
Grandpa Elmer, who passed away when I was a baby. (To clarify,
Grandma Beatty, the one who left me her home, was my mother's
mother.)

Ah, home sweet home. Sorta.

I hadn't realized how much I'd missed the creaky floorboards and
paisley furniture until now. I felt a rush of memories, both good and
bad, tumble through me. My first hand lashing over there in the
kitchen... for stealing and devouring an entire bag of dog biscuits.
That time I secretly made out with Grayson Jr. on the porch in eighth
grade. My first dog, Colby, a beautiful Border Collie, buried in the
backyard.

“Would you like some iced tea?” Mom asked. “Made from scratch,
just the way you like it.”

“That'd be great, Mom.”

Dad brought in my luggage. His face was blotchy and dripping with
sweat. It was a mild day for July, but the mugginess made it
stifling, especially inside the house.

“Since you can't sleep upstairs, I'm afraid you'll have to crash in
the living room,” Dad said. “I can bring down your mattress and
set it up by the couch.”

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