Country Mile

BEGINNING TO GLOW AGAIN

The following weeks were spent in pensive company. Everyone walked on eggshells and nobody wanted to be the one to point out the elephant in the room. The general mindset was clear: wait out the forced conversations and ignore the awkward silences until a new normal emerged. Except it didn't. Each night that turned into another dawn brought about the same atmosphere. There was no longer anger, but a bitterness in the air. Harsh words had revealed hurt pride, and the trio were too alike in the most stubborn way. Nobody sought forgiveness, and nobody offered it either.

Genna had her fill of wallowing in her current state of mind. If Adam and Delilah didn't want to make the effort to break the ice and clear the air, she would. She knew it would be like pulling teeth to get the two of them to talk about everything that needed sorting, but she was going to try. If her attempt was met with restraint, she had plan B already mapped out. Literally. Bus times, routes, proper fare, and a pre-packed bag for a quick exit. She was willing to stay so long as she was met halfway, but if not, she refused to live in a house where the temperature dropped as soon as someone walked in the room due to the constant cold shoulder treatment.

She decided to ease into things by helping Adam prepare dinner unasked. She strode confidently into the kitchen where she saw him cutting up chicken into strips. After washing and drying her hands, she tried her best to make her voice sound calm, yet cheerful. Kind, yet not overly fake.

"I'd like to help," she informed rather than asked. "What can I do?"

Adam's hand stilled as surprise overcame him. He quickly cleared his throat and accepted her offer.

"You can start cuttin' the veggies if you'd like. I already washed 'em."

Genna nodded as she picked out another knife and cutting board. She pulled the veggies closer to her and asked, "Should I cut these into strips or dice them?"

"Strips. I was thinkin' we could do chicken fajitas tonight."

"My favorite," Genna smiled up at him.

He gave a small smile back. "Mine too."

The pair cut their prospective ingredients and the once strained conversation flowed effortlessly from one topic to another. Genna noticed how in the many months she had lived with Adam, this was the first time she had ever talked with him at length. She wondered had they taken the time to speak like this before, if things would have panned out differently. Maybe they would have known more about one another and in turn gotten along better. Maybe instead of trying to make up for sixteen years, they needed to start from year sixteen and move forward one day at a time. If they hadn't tried to force a relationship, one might have formed naturally. Maybe one still could. Maybe.

From up in her room, Delilah could smell the blend of spices, veggies, and pan seared chicken permeating, but it was the sound of laughter that lured her down the stairs. She entered the kitchen to see Genna trying to balance a spoon on her nose. The heated juices from the chicken popped loudly as Adam stirred it with one hand, the other trying to balance a spoon on his nose too.

"What's this?" Delilah asked, arms crossed. It surprised her to feel that pang of envy rear its ugly head again. She knew she had no reason to be jealous of Genna and Adam getting along, but she despised feeling like an outsider. Why was she the one getting excluded?

"Supper," Adam dropped the spoon from his nose and used it to point at the package of flour tortillas sitting on the counter beside Delilah. "Could you grab those and heat 'em up in the microwave for me honey?"

She loudly dropped her hand onto the package and began tearing the plastic. "Sure."

Genna and Adam eyed one another, both clearly picking up on Delilah's not-so-thrilled vibe. Placing her spoon on the counter, Genna went to the refrigerator to grab the cheese, salsa, guacamole, and sour cream. She placed them all on the table along with the lettuce she had chopped earlier.

Adam grabbed four plates from the cabinet and three forks from the drawer. He handed them to Delilah who put the tortillas on one plate and the remaining three plates and forks at each person's designated place at the table. She grabbed three cokes from the fridge, Genna pulled a stack of napkins from the pantry, and Adam brought the sizzling fajita dish to the center of the table.

Everyone took their seat and began passing plates, bowls, and toppings around wordlessly. Genna looked back and forth between Adam and Delilah. Thanks to the petite blonde, the atmosphere lost the warmth it had just found and was beginning to freeze again. Knowing just how to get through to her sister, she decided a little crude humor would do the trick.

"Okay, seriously. Stop."

Delilah looked up to see Genna was speaking to her. "I didn't do anything."

"You didn't have to. Your aura is taking a massive emotional dump on the table right now, and we're trying to eat."

Not sure what to say to that, Delilah looked to Adam who was biting his bottom lip trying not to chuckle. She looked back to her sister who gave her signature side smirk. Quickly realizing it was Genna's way of cutting the tension, a genuine giggle bubbled up from Delilah. It gave way to her high pitched wheezy laugh that was so contagious, Genna and Adam couldn't help but to join her.

Soon tears were streaming down both girls' faces and they didn't miss Adam wiping at his eyes too. They laughed so heartily, it served as the perfect cleanse that they desperately needed to wipe the slate clean and try anew. Now that the distance they had placed between themselves was only arms length and a chicken fajita away, and the negative feelings were replaced with aching cheeks and stitches in their sides from laughing so hard, a real conversation could be had. The kind that is formed upon the foundation of respect and understanding. One that isn't forced, isn't built. It's grown. The kind of conversation they should have had the moment Genna stepped foot onto the farm.

Better late than never, the repairing began. Adam of course spoke about what rules he realized were unattainable, what ones were nonnegotiable, and what ones needed a little leeway. Delilah divulged her need for independence, trust, and growth. And Genna shared her vulnerabilities, what made her feel trapped, and her struggle to accept no longer being in charge of her own life. They spoke until all but one tortilla was left and the left over food had gone cold.

They came to agreement on topics they never thought they'd ever see eye to eye on: Delilah was to have more room for making her own decisions, Genna would only be reprimanded if she deliberately disobeyed, and punishments had to be talked about and agreed upon before Adam handed them out. There would be no more flying off the handle, acting out of anger, or leaving things up for interpretation. Everyone needed to be able to speak freely, and feel heard. Most importantly, everyone needed to know their thoughts, wants, and lines drawn in the sand mattered. That they were respected and understood.

Feeling like a thousand pounds had been lifted off their shoulders, the trio turned on some music and danced while they cleaned the kitchen. Genna knew her sense of humor would get her through pretty much anything in life. It had seen her through the darkest days, it had broken through the thickest ice, and tonight, it served as the bridge everyone was needing but didn't know how to build. For being the newest member of the family, she wondered how it was her who was the only one capable of bringing them all together.

It was clear everyone needed a chicken fajita supper followed by a dance party. Adam and Delilah certainly need Genna's humor in their lives. And Genna couldn't help but acknowledge the warmth simmering inside. She thought the flame that once burned from needing her mother was permanently smothered; that she'd never need anyone else again. But looking at the two people before her made her unsure. She couldn't ignore how the feeling of needing them was threatening to dig its way out from beneath all the pain and heartache she had covered it with. She couldn't deny it: those deeply buried embers were beginning to glow again.