Book 2: Children of Violence
Cristine her heart thumped. She could hear blood passing through her ears - thump, thump, thump-and looking down saw her red coated chest moving up and down. She even tasted textured meat that was never meant to be chew...
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"Cristine would you be a dear and help me peel and cut the potatoes?"
Cristine paused in her steps just as she placed the large pot filled with water on the stove. The voice was soft, had a southern lull to it and keeping her suspicious emotions from showing on her face, stared at her stepmother.
Like the rest, Dolores also wore an apron. Blonde locks were pulled back into a bun to keep her hair away from her face. She sat on a chair, a medium sized burlap filled with potatoes on the space next to her. A second chair was on the other side of the bag and currently empty.
Swallowing, Cristine grabbed a cutting knife before wordlessly strolling to the elder woman. Once she sat down, Cristine fished out a few potatoes and diligently began the process of peeling and cutting the vegetable.
It was quiet and only the sound of cutting and dumping the pieces of potatoes was heard. This was one of the few times she did chores with Dolores and it was pretty normal. This was the first time, however, her stepmother initiated any sort of contact with that were more than superficial words.
Still, neither of the two took the initiative to start something. A heavy silence settled, thicker than the skin of these hard potatos.
"How have you been settling in on the Ranch so far." It was a simple question.
But nothing was ever simple with Dolores and her stepdaughter couldn't help but chew at the corner of her lower lip.
"Fine. People are nicer now." Cristine rolled the blade between her palms, "nicer now that I'm useful."
"That's good to hear. I was worried you wouldn't feel very comfortable and leave, but thank God that's not the case."
There was a certain innuendo behind her words, but Cristine compared Dolores with Troy... and the latter won that competition in people to watch out for by a mile.
"I can't leave Hailey and daddy, that wouldn't be fair of me. Sure, it was difficult at the start. But most people don't mind me very much now."
"They never did. They were just cautious and had to get used to someone new. I think we were one of the first ones to arrive. They even had to get used to me and Hailey," Dolores smiled a small, yet forced smile that wasn't very convincing.
"Hailey told me... whose idea was it?" Cristine arched her brow at her unsettled blue gaze and clarified the question, "to start fresh and come to this place?"
Dolores paused, thinking briefly and said, "this was something your father wanted for a while. To have a life away from the city and live more aware and self-sustaining. The two of us discussed it for a while," a light shrug paired with a wrinkly smile, "it was a sign really. I remember the first reports of that nasty flu. It wasn't the epidemic itself, I mean we didn't know it would end like this, but I also saw it as a chance to start over. For your father to start over after all his hard work."
