When Nothing Goes Right, Go Left

Lost In My Own Home

Finnick

     "NICK!" Mom yelled from downstairs. 

    I walked downstairs quickly before she got the chance to yell again. Lately she seems to have the feeling to put all this pressure on herself for no reason. Sometimes it becomes unbearable and she cracks, shuts herself in her room or treats herself to a spa day. 

     "Yeah Mama?" I ask walking into the lounge.

     "I need you to do the yard work since your father is working double this week. Lord knows he'll flip if he finds that he still has more work to do after a long day at the hospital." 

     "Sure," I obey. 

     Dad doesn't have that hard of a job. I mean he's a plastic surgeon. He practically stares at boobs all day trying to figure out how to make them better. He never complains. Mom just makes sure he "never stressed" so that she doesn't feel insecure. It's not the same as all those years ago when we moved. Because of Dad's job, he sees millions of women who seek help, so Mom feels obliged to show that she's better than all of them, in the fear that he might leave her. She's doesn't give herself enough credit. Dad moved us off the islands because he found the money was in plastic surgery back on the main land. 

     "How was your week at school?" she asks. 

     "Crappy," Tessa says walking in. 

     Mom raises her eyebrow. "Missy, I would watch your language with me." 

     "What? It was. No one likes school," she sighs. 

     "What about you Nick?" Mom asks me. 

     "It could be better, maybe you should talk to the principle and adjust the start time. I was thinking nine thirty..." I recommend before she cuts in. 

     "Ah! I will not. It gives your mother extra time to herself before I go into the store. Those customers are crazy!" She explains. "Now go on, off to your chores!" 

    She walks out of the lounge with her heels clicking from the Italian White Marble. 

     "So, I heard someone's back in town!" Tessa sings after hearing the front door close. 

     My cheeks heat and I look left, "Who is that?" Asking quietly. 

     "You know exactly who I'm talking about asshole!" She laughs at my blushing. "Ember is home again!" 

     "Oh, ya. I thought you were talking about someone else." I lie. 

     "Ya, sure you were. I thought you'd be over there by now. Helping her, talking to her, being with her. It's all your ever do when she's down for a rodeo." 

     "What are you trying to say Tess?" 

     "I'm trying to say that you should finally tell her!" 

     "Tell her what? That I've had a boiling crush on her for years. That's a great idea if I want her to think I'm a creep. Plus, we're partners in rodeo." 

     "And what excuse does that give you?" 

     "That gives me the proof that I don't need anything awkward going on between us after we won all the high school rodeo team ropings. We're going back for it again. I don't want to jeopardize that."

     "Psshh ..." Tessa sighs. "I'd just hate to see her fall for the wrong guy.I know that your not the best boyfriend and relationship keeper with girls, but you have so much more to give her than those other guys out there Finn. Don't lose her. She's as much of a best friend to me as she is to you."

     Tessa walks out the room and to the kitchen. "Eloise! Did you make my grilled cheese yet?" She yells to our maid. 

     As I cut the lawn, sweep the driveway, trim the bushes, and pick weeds I think about all the threats that will come into Ember's way. She's knows practically everyone there. She used to go to school with them. But they might give her trouble. Especially Stella Morgan. The high school bitch. I guess it's not nice to call you "girlfriend" a bitch. But she is. She finds the weaklings that are a threat to her in any way, and she breaks them down piece by piece until they back off or don't bother her any more. I guess it's a convenience that she's a barrel racer too. They're all psychotic and crazy. 

. . . .

     Sundays were by far my favorite, I thought as I drove to pick up Ember at her new place for roping practice. I looked at my directions as I clicked my blinker to go right. Forget Me Not Road is where she said she lived. I park when I get to her house, and gaze at it. It's two stories and painted white. Concrete steps lead up to two french doors. Crystal clean wide windows sit on both sides of the doors. The house reminds me of a small cottage in the woods. It seems whimsical and special. 

     I nock on the door and greeted by Brea. 

     "Finn, so nice to see you! Ember was just getting dressed," she says. 

     "Nice house," I tell her. 

     "Thanks, it was well. The perfect fit for us," she sighs. "Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a nice kitchen, and a living room is more than I can ask for. Come in." 

     I walk in. Walls are all painted a soft granite gray, the tile is rustic wood, and as I walk to were the kitchen is all the cabinets are painted white with a dark wood slab counter. It's cozy and small. The exact opposite of my house. I like it. Most of the time I feel lost in my own home. Too big and large. It's an adventure just to find someone in my house, while here all you have to check are a kitchen, living room, and bedroom. 

     "Hey stranger," Ember says from behind me. 

     She's dressed in her usual practice attire when she comes. Women's Wranglers, a baggy tee shirt, her belt buckle, and hair in a quick side braid. Nothing eccentric. Simple. She doesn't have to wear make-up to be around anyone either. Her olive green eyes are adorned with not mascara but her naturally long ass eyelashes, her high cheek bones; freckles are sprinkled under her eyes, around her nose, and over her forehead; and her perfectly full and plump lips. Her eyes crinkle when she smiles, when she's focused she's has a blank stare, when she's nervous or confused she bites her lip and knits her eyebrows together, and when she's mad her eyes widen and the corners of her mouth turn down. 

     I smile and so does she. I give her a hug, and sneak a smell of her coconut vanilla scent. It reminds me of life back on the islands. We haven't been in years. 

     "How far have you moved in?" I ask backing up. 

     "Not much, I don't have that much decoration, or anything for that matter" She explains. 

     "Do I sense a need for you and Tess to take a trip to the world of shopping?" 

     "YES! Please, she needs to get out and decorate," Brea yells from upstairs. 

     "God no, don't listen to her. First I need a job, which by the way. Do you still work at the McCullough Ranch?" Ember cuts in. 

     "Yes, were you inferring that I get you a job there?" I ask smirking. 

     "Well ... Yes. I need a job if I want to have a worthy room. If you don't mind," she smiles walking past me and picking up her phone from the door. "Now, who's ready to crush some ass this year in rodeo season? I'm feeling quite ecstatic about the whole winning streak of last year." 

     I smirk, "Today is just a practice day you know."

     "Phffft ... Have you met me, I practice like I compete! Nothing less," she laughs. 

     We walk out the door and to the truck for an eventful night in the arena.