Heart Break. A Paul Walker Love Story.

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Three: Missouri

Paul wasn't happy about it, neither was Paul's mom, that's shocking... (Sarcasm). They weren't happy about the fact that I was leaving California and going on a trip. It wasn't up to them, well, Paul's mom at least. If Paul really cared he'd be home. I'm flying to Missouri for a week, then New York for a week, then Hawaii for another week. I'll be back in time to be home for a week before we go film the rest of Fast and Furious 7.

It was 2 am when I woke up and drove to the airport. Once I was on the plane I put in headphones and fell asleep again. The next time I woke up, I was in Missouri. I got off the plane and wheeled my suitcase behind me as I exited the busy airport. Leaning against his old blue pickup truck was my favorite uncle ever, Lance. He's the only family member, aside from my grandparents, that I stayed in touch with. I ran up and hugged him. "Woah, you smell like California," he teased. I playfully hit him. "You smell like cows," I teased back. "Get in the truck," he said. I stuck my tongue out at him. I watched as he threw my suitcase in the bed of the truck and then got into the drivers' seat.

I almost cried when Lance drove down the driveway to my grandparents' cattle ranch. Fields of cattle grazing were on each side of the driveway. My 80 year old grandparents sat on the porch swing as I got out of the truck to greet them. I hugged my grandfather and then my grandmother who made the comment, "We need to get you into some different clothing." I was wearing Capri length sweatpants, a Victoria's Secret sweater, and UGG boots, the classic airport look. My grandma took me inside asking me all sorts of questions about my kids, the film, Paul, my life. But the answers made me want to break down into a ball and burst into never ending tears.

My grandma and I sat at the kitchen table after I changed into jeans, cowgirl boots, and a flannel Lance lent me. "How's the babies," my gran asked. "They're good. Do you mind? I'd like to go see the ranch," I said to her. "Go ahead my dear, we have a week to catch up," she said with a smile and a rub on the hand. I went outside where some ranch hands and Lance were saddling up some horses. It was almost noon. I approached them to see the ranch hands were my cousins, who were just babies the last time I saw them. "No way these are your kids," I shouted. Lance laughed. He had four sons, all teenagers. "Where are y'all headed," I asked in my best, yet, worst southern accent. "Round some calves for branding," One of Lance's kids replied. "I'll help," I exclaimed. "Yeah right. Go pick out a pony and ride in the round pen Miss California," another one of his kids said. Lance thumped his son on the head. "Sorry Brooke, next time," Lance said. "Next time will be next year. I may've been gone for years and years but I still remember how calf branding works," I replied. "Then we'll see you next year," Lance teased as he and his kids rode off into the pasture.

I walked into the stables where five horses poked their heads out of the stalls. My grandparents always had plenty of horses, mostly because we had such a big family. My grandparents had eight kids, Suzie, Thomas, Greg, Lance, Patty, Carrie, my dad, and Lucy. Each of them had three to six kids each, don't get me started on their names, because I hardly know any of them. Some of those kids had kids, and I remember hearing something about one of my long distance cousins getting pregnant at fifteen. Most of my great aunts, great uncles, and all of my great grandparents are dead, mostly from old age. But everyone passed down the story that my great grandfather went to Africa, got ebola, and died, even though everyone knows that's not true. He was a joking man with silly stories. He died when I was seven. My great grandmother died a year later, heart break, they claimed as her cause of death.

I started petting a black and white pinto horse. His name was Oreo, how original. I got him out of his stall and tied him up so I could saddle him. I grabbed the prettiest saddle I could, it also weighed 50 pounds. I was basically dragging it back to Oreo when I heard someone laughing at me. I looked down the stables and saw a tall cowboy staring at me. He looked as if he were 30 years old. "Is something funny," I asked. "No m'am I didn't mean no insult. Do you need any help," he asked as he approached me. "I certainly do not need your help," I replied putting emphasis or your. He put his hands up in defeat. I strained myself trying to throw the saddle over Oreo, but the saddle ended up winning. The saddle started falling, and took me with it. I ended up on the ground, with the saddle on my stomach. Laughing, the cowboy came and lifted the saddle off of me, throwing it on top of Oreo's back. He then turned and helped me up. "Jackson," he greeted. "Brooke," I replied. "Well California, seems as if you don't really know how to saddle a horse," Jackson joked. "I do so know how to saddle a horse, I used to live here you know! And does everyone call me that around here," I asked. "Well, you are from California, and you haven't lived here in over 20 years, or so I hear," he teased. I turned to Oreo and started putting a saddle strap through a buckle. "That doesn't go there," Jackson said. I moved to a different buckle. "Or there," Jackson said again. I turned to him. "You do it then," I shouted. He saddled Oreo in less than a minute. "There's no way," I exclaimed. "All in a day's work," he teased tipping his cowboy hat. He put a bridle on Oreo for me as well. I mounted Oreo. "I'm hoping you remember how to ride the horse," Jackson said. "Isn't it something like, once you do it once you never forget," I asked. Jackson laughed. "Something like that," he replied, laughing. I gave him a smile and then kicked Oreo's sides but he didn't move. I kicked him again but he started walking backwards. I was freaking out. "Oh my gosh, get me off this thing! How do you drive it," I yelled. Jackson was laughing at me as Oreo continued reversing out of the barn. "Jackson this isn't funny! Help," I yelled. "Oreo, that's enough," Jackson said to the horse. I heard a whinny from underneath me and Oreo started throwing his head up and down. I kicked his sides and he walked back into the barn, he stopped by Jackson. "The horse is trained to trick Californian's," I asked crossing my arms. "Nope, just to trick new riders into thinking they can't ride," Jackson teased. "Ha funny," I teased back. I kicked his sides and rode him out of the barn. "See! I know how to do this," I yelled to Jackson who was standing at the barn's entrance. I rode to the pasture entrance, and then kicked Oreo's sides to make him run. At least I remembered how to hold on.

Oreo continued galloping until we got to a large creek. I tried pulling him to a stop but he wouldn't. "Oreo I can't jump a horse," I yelled. He continued running, and then jumped the creek. I didn't finish the jump with him. I ended up falling into the creek. When I stood up, soaked and chilled to the bone, Oreo had galloped out of sight, and I was left alone. I started walking back towards the farm but it would take half an hour to a whole hour. I didn't know how long Oreo had been running. All I knew is my butt really hurt. Then I stepped on a cow pie. "Fantastic," I shouted. I hate Missouri.

A/N I appreciate every comment or message people send me. But please don't comment on the length of the update. I mean yeah, tell me if it's too long because I'll shorten them. But please don't comment they're too short, because a shit ton of bullshit has been going on in my life right now. I'm too stressed out, along with massive writers blocks, I'm hardly finding any time to write. I try putting out updates every week to every other week and sometimes it's just a lot harder than you'd think to take time to write. Thanks. -Alyssa
Ps. Sorry if this sounds bitchy