Author's NoteMeant to post this last week, couldn't get it edited in time. This chapter is shorter than the last. I also changed the spelling of the sister's nickname, it works better this way.

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2.

We arrived in Duncan a little after one in the afternoon.

Compared to Phoenix, the place felt tiny. Ok, so technically, we didn’t live in Phoenix, but we were only a twenty-minute car ride away. You could officially call this place the country. There was nothing but farms for miles. The city proper was centered around one main road with several smaller ones branching off it. Most of the important things - city hall, a couple of churches, the school - they all branched off from that road. In order to get to Grandma’s place, we had to drive straight through the city. Looking out the window as we passed all the Mom and Pop stores, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. The last time I was here, I was barely nine years old.

“Wow, they still have that old theater?”

Frank scoffed. “The city council tried to tear it down to build a more modern one, but the historical society stopped them.”

It was no secret that Uncle Frank was all about progress. He spent a good portion of the ride bitching about how Duncan was not willing to take a step into the 21st Century. In fact, according to him, they were barely into the 20th Century. Looking out at all the buildings as we passed them, it was clear that he wasn’t far off. Most of them looked like they were built in the fifties and had the chipped paint and fading signs to prove it. If I remembered correctly, the city’s economy was built around farming. Most of those farms were going under now though due to modern advances. The city was dying and from the looks of things, it was practically a corpse already.

It was kinda sad really.

It was getting sadder every day too.

“Jack Carson is the only one who makes sense around here,” my uncle continued as we drove.

Carson?

Charlie’s Dad?

If I remembered correctly, Charlie’s dad was a big-time real estate guy. Before I moved, he was in the process of working some kind of land contract just outside the city. I wasn’t really interested at the time because, well, I was eight. I read something about it before moving here. I liked to be informed now. According to the article I read online, Carson Estates was a huge development outside the city. Mr. Carson was now trying to bring in new business, starting with a strip mall and a lucrative development deal with one of the tech moguls. This area was a prime location for computer server farms. The problem was the locals. Carson was buying up a lot of farmland and converting it into viable property for future development. People were fighting it and from what I could tell, losing.

My grandparents opposed it. Their opposition was gaining steam until Grandpa’s heart attack. With Grandpa gone, no one had the audacity to fight Jack Carson. Grandpa’s law firm was left in limbo. It nearly closed its doors before Mom agreed to move back home. Things hadn’t been easy though. Grandpa was a civil rights attorney and Mom studied contract law. Back in Phoenix, she was just a cog in a very large machine. Now she was going to be her own boss. If I remembered correctly, Grandpa only had one partner. A partner who was struggling to keep things going. He was happy for Mom’s help. Things weren’t going well with him, either. Especially with people like Uncle Frank fighting against him. Driving up here, my mother and her brother barely spoke to one another.

“I’m not getting into this again,” Mom said, and the subject was dropped.

They had argued about it on and off over the last couple of days.

I, for one, would be glad to finally leave this car.

My wish came about ten minutes later as we finally arrived at Grandma’s farm.

The farm in question had been in my grandmother’s family for a few generations. It was passed to her by her father, who received it from his father. It would officially pass to Uncle Frank when Grandma passed, though that was up for debate. Everyone in the family knew what Frank intended to do with the land. He kept trying to convince Grandma it was time to let things go and move on. Being a Madison meant very little to my uncle. The fact that the Madison homestead sat on several acres was the only thing he saw. Well that, and future dollar signs. It was no secret that Carson wanted the land and that Frank was already making a deal to sell it.

Us being here was a hindrance to said plan.

Grandma wasn’t a moron though.

Mom was the oldest by two years, but per her parents’ will, she inherited the law firm. Frank was the one who inherited the farm. As it was now, Grandma was already in the process of drawing up a new will. She intended to leave everything to Mom. Something that Frank didn’t know for sure but more than likely suspected. To say he was pissed was putting it mildly.

Pulling up in front of the large farm house, Grandma was waiting with a smile.

It was easy to see she and Mom were related. They both had the same dark hair and green eyes, like me. They were both short too, like me. The only thing the three us didn’t have in common was our gender. Though to many, that was up for debate.

“Oh, my babies!”

She was hugging Allie as soon as she got out of the car. For an old woman, she was pretty fast. My sister didn’t even have time to react to the ambush. I suppressed a laugh, because as soon as my sister managed to get away, I was next. Unlike Allie who looked annoyed, I welcomed Grandma’s hug. It was warm and comforting. Not that my mother didn’t have comforting hugs, there was just something about a grandma’s hug that made everything all better. I got lost in it, even going so far as putting my head on her shoulder. A gesture made possible by the fact that I was only an inch or so taller than her five foot three height.

Yep, I was that short.

Sigh.

Grandma finally let me go and looked me straight in the eyes almost.

Double sigh.

“Well, aren’t you as cute as button, just like your Mom.”

Great, just what every boy wants to hear.

She even booped my nose with a gleeful giggle.

“Mom, stop teasing, you’re going to bruise his male ego.”

Mom was out of the car now, Uncle Frank was too.

I think I heard him scoff at Mom’s comment.

Yeah, well, Fuck You, Frank.

Grandma moved on from me to Mom, hugging her just a bit longer than us. There was a hidden meaning in that hug that was understandable to sadly a lot. Two women sharing their grief, roughly a year apart. The hug lasted only a minute or so and when she let Mom go, she glared at my uncle.

“Franklin, stop being an ass, and get the bags.”

Uncle Frank grumbled as he opened the back of the SUV. I watched as he started taking out the suitcases there. We traveled fairly light. Most of our belongings we put into a moving truck and one of those storage pod things. Most of our furniture would go into the barn while we stayed here. Mom had a plan. We would live with grandma for a month or two then find our own place somewhere. Grandma was happy to have us and told Mom to take her time but it was clear she liked living alone too. Mom had other plans. She wanted to make sure everything was ok. Mom’s cousin Maggie called her last month about Grandma. There were some health concerns that the family was worried about. Mom didn’t let on she knew about those concerns, but like I said, Grandma wasn’t a fool.

She emailed me shortly after Mom told her we were coming. The woman was pretty clever when she wanted to be. I guess it helped that she used to be a mathematics professor. She caught onto Mom’s scheme pretty quick, but she told me she’d let my mother have her moment. Even now as she berated Frank for his thoughtlessness, she looked past him to wink at me. I gave her a smile back, the two of us sharing our own secret.

“Maddie, why don’t you help Frank with those bags?”

I knew Mom was trying to boost my ego after Grandma’s demasculinization from a few moments ago but we both knew there wasn’t much I could do to help. I wasn’t Dad after all. My arms were like pipe cleaners. I wouldn’t be able to move those cases an inch. I should know, I tried to move them out of the house when we packed the car back in Arizona. After some not so playful teasing from Frank, he unloaded the car by himself.

Mom looked at me strangely for a moment before she realized her blunder.

She gave me a sad smile before going to get a case herself.

Yep, even my own mother could lift one.

I was a failure as a man.

Ok, so I didn’t really care.

Well not much anyway.

Being masculine and the strongest was not my thing. Dad wanted it to be, though. He did everything he could to make me like him. It wasn’t just the “trying to get me to play hockey stuff” either. He tried to fully immerse me in all things “guy”, but it never really worked out the way he wanted. Hockey had led me to figure skating, weight lifting had led me to Pilates and sports games had led me to, well, HATING sports games. Dad didn’t stop trying to relate to me though. He encouraged me in everything I did, even if he didn’t like or even understand it. He did like it when Charlie was around though. We used to do a lot of boy things together, something I think made Dad extremely happy. Dad smiled every time I came home covered in mud. When we moved away, I think he was just as sad as I was to lose Charlie. I fell back into my old habits quickly, and it only got worse, according to his thinking. It didn’t help that I didn’t really have a lot in common with most boys my age after Charlie. My only real friend back home was Leon, his family was from South Korea, and the two of us became friends through a science fair in the 4th grade.

I use the term “friends” very loosely though.

Most of the time we hung out, we studied.

When we actually did talk to one another, it was usually about school work.

The rest of the time we sat in either his room or mine, reading in total silence.

Fun times.

Leon kept me sane though.

He also finally helped me get over Charlie.

In a weird sorta way.

“You ok, honey bun?” asked Grandma as she sidled up next to me.

I was still standing at the back of the SUV, all of our bags unloaded now.

I blinked, not realizing I was lost in thought again.

“I’m good, just thinking.”

She smiled, bumping my shoulder with hers. “Well, let’s get inside, I’ll show you to your room. I think you’re going to like it!”

I did my best to smile.

Grandma’s house was huge.

It was built by her great-great grandfather at the turn of the last century. By the standards of the day, it was considered fairly large. It had had three remodels and expansions since then, the last circa 2002ish, shortly after Allie was born. Walking into the foyer and the large living area, you could see where old met new. Especially with the furniture and electronics. My grandfather tried to stay as up-to-date and as modern as he could with those kinds of things. The 50-inch 4K TV being a big example of that. I felt a twinge of sadness staring at that TV, because Dad would have loved it for his “game nights” as he called them. Back home, he had converted our den into a sports area for him and his old teammates to watch the games. That TV would have made their day.

Looking beyond the room, my eyes were drawn to the large staircase leading to the second floor. Beyond that, I knew the hall led to the kitchen, dining, and sunrooms. There was a guest bedroom on the first floor as well. It had been one of the later additions.

“I’ve set you up down there, Debra, there’s all new linens and the walls have recently been painted.”

“Mom, you didn’t have to do that!”

“Don’t be silly!”

That’s the kind of person my Grandma was. She took a moment to lead Mom down the hall, while Allie and I waited patiently in the living room. Grandma had this way about her. Sure, my sister and I could have gone storming up the stairs to find our own way, but it would have upset her. Grandma liked to personally make sure everyone had their place and she got satisfaction out of showing each of us said place. Thus, only a minute or so later, she returned down the hall, smiling.

“Right this way, kids!” she said, leading us toward the stairs herself.

The second-floor landing was wide enough for all three of us but we only stood on it for a few seconds before she led us down the hall. The first door was on the right; it was the bathroom. It was an old holdover from the pre-2000 renovation, because all the rooms had ensuites now. There was also a bathroom downstairs, for guests. That one had been the original bathroom before the renovations when my mother and Frank were kids. I remember Mom talking about how hard it had been sharing a bathroom with him. The new bathroom and the ensuites were added when they were teenagers.

The first bedroom was right after the bathroom.

“This was Frank’s room, I thought I’d put Madison in here,” said Grandma, opening the door.

We all took a peek inside.

I knew from the last time I was here, that Uncle Frank had the largest room in the house. At one time it was decorated with a bunch of his childhood crap. Now all of that crap was gone, replaced with a dull gray décor and some nice prints on the wall. I could see myself in this room. It wasn’t too overdone or flashy. There was a desk too, and if I asked, I’d probably be able to get some shelves in here for my books.

“Wait, you’re going to put me in Mom’s old room, then?” asked my sister.

“That was the plan.” said grandma with a reassuring smile.

Allie shook her head. “The smaller room? I don’t think so!”

She pushed past us, slamming her shoulder into me as she marched into the room.

She went to the king-size bed that dominated most of the room, and dropped herself upon it.

“THIS is MY room.”

I rolled my eyes.

Of course she’d make a powerplay, it was typical Allison.

“Allison dear, this is a fine room, but your mother’s room...”

“Is Madison’s now.” finished my sister, with a smug determination.

I sighed. “It’s fine, Grandma, there’s no point arguing with the spoiled brat.”

Allie glared at me for the remark but said nothing.

My grandmother stood in the doorway and stared at Allie for a moment. “Allison, we will discuss this later.”

My sister’s glare evaporated instantly. Allie might not have been afraid of being a bitch with Mom, but I think Grandma scared her. I couldn’t help but smirk to see the color drain from her face. She didn’t even attempt to hide it either, which was all the more satisfying.

We left her to her fear and started further down the hall.

My mother’s old bedroom was the next door but on the opposite side of the hallway. I’d seen it before so I knew what to expect. When Grandma opened the door, I noticed nothing had changed since the last time. The room still had a pale pink décor; it still had that canopy bed and all the stuffed animals. There were two dressers, a nightstand, and a desk. On the walls were various posters, some of pop stars, but most were famous figure skaters my mother idolized. There were skating trophies everywhere. But, the focus of the room was a display case over my mother’s bed. It was where she kept her important medals. Chief among them were the two Silvers and the Gold from the Olympics.

Mom still got stopped and asked for autographs every once in a while.

Allie thought it was embarrassing, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.

“I’m sorry that your sister took the other room,” said Grandma, with a frown, clearly expecting me to complain about the girliness of this one.
I shook my head. “A room is a room.”

In truth, I was happier to be in this one. Whenever we used to visit Grandma before, I had slept in this room. I’m not sure why, but it made me feel closer to my mother. Smiling, I walked further into the room. I found myself sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the bookcase on the far wall, next to the closet door. Mom was a reader like me. She didn’t just read some best sellers either. I knew from our personal library back home, that Mom liked classic literature. It was apparently a hobby she had in childhood too, because I saw a lot of really good books. I smiled at the prospect of reading some of my favorites again.

“Your sister doesn’t know what she gave up.” said grandma as she went over to the closet, opening the door. “This is a walk-in. Something I was hoping to show her before she got selfish.”

I stood up and walked over.

Sure enough, the closet was huge. A lot of my mother's old clothes were still there. It was like a 90s flashback, one I couldn’t help but smirk at. Lots of bright colors that most people wouldn’t be caught dead wearing today. In the back of the closet, beyond the flashback, were her skating outfits. I was actually surprised to see them there. I thought for sure they’d be somewhere more official. I started to reach for the sleeve of one of her practice jackets when I stopped myself. The last thing I needed was for Grandma to think I was weird.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” she asked, I nodded. “Well, there is this too.”

Grandma pulled a little step stool forward, then reached up toward the ceiling. I followed her hand and saw a hatch with a chain. A second later, she was pulling on the chain and the hatch opened, a ladder folded down.

Mom’s room had an attic!

The ladder fully fit in the space of the closet. Grandma led the way up; I followed. I was surprised how spacious it was up here. There was enough room for me to stand. It wasn’t dusty either, which told me my Grandmother cleaned it often. There were a lot of boxes, but I also noticed a couple of trunks, a sewing table, and a dress dummy. The table and the dummy really surprised me.

“You sewed Mom’s outfits?”

“At first, but eventually your mother did most of it.”

I was shocked.

“I didn’t know Mom could sew?”

Grandma chuckled. “Before going to school for law, your mother wanted to be a fashion designer. She used to spend hours up here designing outfits. She even managed to make a few.”

I wasn’t expecting any of that. Mom told me a lot about her past, but she never mentioned ever wanting to be a fashion designer. It was kind of sad really. It sounded like my mother had a passion and a dream, and she gave it up. I made a mental note to find a time and place to ask her about it. Maybe it would finally help me figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Sure I was only a freshman in high school, but it was never too early to think about it. In three more years, I’d be going to college too. I didn’t want to start it without knowing what I wanted to do.

“Now then, I’ll have Frank bring your cases to this room. Why don’t we go get your sister and have some lunch.”

I smiled.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had a good, home-cooked meal.

Mom was many things, but a chef was not one of them.

“That sounds great."

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated. Thanks in advance...EOF