Genevieve Anderson, the girl that had been left behind and forgotten.
In a town where everybody knows everybody, meaning that no one goes unnoticed. Nobody just grabs a bag and leaves in the middle of the night, without someone seeing something. No...
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Chapter Three
"I wish I had more to say to you. I wish I could have stayed here and watch you grow up, but I know that you were better off without me. I wish I could tell you this, but you would rather slam the door in my face, than see me ever again, and I get that. I do, I really do"
"Well, I guess that went really well, didn't it?" was Bailey's retort from where he stood against his truck, with Silas at his side. Silas punched him in the ribs, but it did nothing to ease the pain that was running through my chest. My sister, my little sister, had just slammed the door in my face, after telling me that if I was here for our dad, Michael Anderson, that I would have to wait.
In all reasoning, I had called her a farm girl, as initially, I had not recognized my own sister. I had pulled up first, which had allowed me to watch her carry the hay bales in and out of the stable, over her shoulder, like it weighed nothing. I then got the joy, as did the rest of my brothers, of riding a horse, bare back. Back when I was around, only a few of us could do such things, as most of the horses were not a fan of such riding technique, as they had once been race horses, that only knew how to ride with a person when they had a saddle and tack.
I had watched my sister do such thing, on one of the horses, that I had always had trouble training. I had just bought him, and he was only a few months old at the time, making him 12 years old, meaning that 12 years had passed since I had last been back here. 12 years and I couldn't recognize my little sister. Taking a step back, I looked at the house that I had grown up in. "I was told-, oh"
My father appeared at the door, with old jeans and a checkered shirt on, which was an improvement from yesterday's outfit, of just a tank top and shorts. It had been self explanatory, that my father had gone downhill since we had been around, and the house looked the same. The paint was peeling, and the front door was hanging on its hinges.
Some weeds were growing out of the roof, and a few panels were missing from here and there. But other than that, it was easy to tell that my sister was holding everything down, and she was doing a damn good job of it. The stables were in a bit of a better condition than the house, but she had been doing this for 12 years, meaning some things would miss the care it needed, but the house looked better.
It had looked better, but it looked good for the condition of this family. "Hey, dad" I muttered, grimacing at the sight of him. After our conversation yesterday afternoon, about me finally coming back after 12 years with the rest of my brothers, it had not gone down well. He had had no idea as to why we had wanted to come back, after having heard nothing from us for 12 years.
I came to the conclusion that he clearly had never gotten the wedding invitation to both mine, and Miles', which was coming up in about a month or two. That being said, he had considered having it out here, rather than closer to the city, where I had had mine, about 8 years ago. "You all better be cleared out by the time I come back from work" my father sneered, and I just shook my head, as I walked back to my truck, where my wife and son were waiting.
