Indigo

Introducing Harry

It's been three days since Dad gave Anne the go-ahead to let Harry come stay with us, and now he's moments away from arrival. Dad went alone to pick him up from the airport because I had lessons to teach.

It takes nearly an hour just to get to the airport, and Harry's flight could've been delayed, so I really have no idea when they could get here. All I know is that I can't focus on washing Benny, who somehow got covered in mud. I think I've actually washed him twice already.

I groan loudly and turn the faucet off. "Sorry, Benny," I mumble, then start drying him off with an old towel.

My head perks up when I hear Dad's truck drive up to the house. I know it's him because his brakes squeak in a very peculiar way.

I stand there, stuck between acting like this is no big deal and finishing up with Benny, or acting like it's a huge deal and running up to Harry all excited to see him. But then Dad calls my name from the barn entrance and I don't get a chance to decide.

"Indie! Harry's here!" He calls and starts walking towards the washing stall at the back of the barn.

"Hold on!" I shout back. I finish toweling off Benny, then spin around.

I almost choke on my own saliva when I get a good look at Harry. He looks nothing like the fifteen-year-old kid I remember him to be. At least a foot taller, but the same dark brown curly hair and blue-green eyes. He's lost the baby chub in his cheeks, and now his jaw line is as sharp as a runway model's. He's...a fucking Adonis, god damnit.

"Hey, Indie," he smiles, his voice a hundred times deeper than it once was.

"H-hey, Harry," I smile back. "Did you have a good flight?"

"Longer than I remember," he chuckles. "But it was worth it."

"Well, I'm gonna go get dinner started. Why don't you give Harry a tour, Indie?"

I roll my eyes. "He's been here before, Dad."

"I know," he smiles mischievously and winks at me. "See y'all in a bit."

He walks off and it's just then I realize my jeans are soaked from washing Benny, who grew impatient and walked back to his stall.

"Well, uh, this is the barn," I start, awkwardly of course, "As you probably remember. We have a few less horses now, but Ginger was still here last time you visited." I point down to her stall then shove my hands in my back pockets. "Benny is our most recent addition, and he's quite the troublemaker. Always getting into stuff he shouldn't be."

"You painted. Didn't it used to be white in here?" Harry asks as he looks at the walls.

I nod, surprised he noticed. "Um, yeah. It did. Dad wanted to paint it to spruce it up a little."

"Looks good."

"Took me almost two weeks to paint the whole damn thing, so it better."

"He made you do it?" He laughs and looks back at me.

"It saved money, plus it gave me an excuse to take a break from the kids for a while."

"Makes sense."

We both go silent for a moment before I realize that I'm going to have to be the one to speak again first.

"Do you want me to show you your room?" I ask.

He shrugs and turns towards the house. "Sure."

We start walking together out of the barn and then into the house. When Harry and Anne used to come visit, up until Harry got too old, Harry and I would always bunk together in my room. But then we got older and it was deemed inappropriate so Harry had to sleep on an air mattress on the ground next to Anne. Which I though really sucked because we had a tradition to tell each other ghost stories until we were too scared to continue, all the while hiding under my comforter with a flashlight. But when he was thirteen and I was eleven, it all changed.