Games of the Heart (The 'Burg #4)(64)

It was stunning.

It also had a note attached that said,

Angel,

Thanks for letting me have tonight with Reesee and No.

Mike

Total cool. Total class. Totally thoughtful. And I swear, I squealed inside and felt like a girl again when I opened the door to a delivery guy holding that arrangement and saw the note had my name on it.

I arrived home on a Wednesday afternoon. I reconciled with Mike that night. We went out to dinner on Thursday. Friday was Rees’s actual birthday and Mike called me yesterday morning to ask me to meet him for lunch at Frank’s.

I took him up on this offer because he’d already told me that night was Rees’s, not just because it was her birthday but because it was Friday and every Friday night he had her was Rees’s night with her Dad. They did Scary Movie Friday nights with junk food and had for years. Mike didn’t want to buck that trend with me in the picture because Rees enjoyed that time with her Dad. I also got the clear sense Mike enjoyed that time with his daughter.

I agreed because I didn’t want to be the bitchy new girlfriend who sucked all her Dad’s time. Not to mention, I had a shitload of stuff to do, what with needing to finish unpacking and dealing with my kilns and wheel.

But last night was a special night. Seeing it was Rees’s birthday, No was joining them for the festivities. Gifts would be exchanged, store bought birthday cake consumed and slasher flicks would be watched. I knew this would go late because Mike warned me he probably wouldn’t even call.

He didn’t.

It was now Saturday and Rees’s birthday party was that afternoon at three at Mike’s place so I was psyching myself up for this.

I’d also spent time yesterday going out to get her a present. Mike already sent No out to get his presents from her list so he gave it to me at lunch with the things he and No bought her scratched off. I chose something that didn’t send the message I was trying to crawl up her ass but it was still something nice. Then I threw in a bunch of little things just because I was at the mall, she was a girl, I was a girl, I liked girlie crap and I’d never had a girl to buy for. Not one who was fifteen. Jerra’s girl was six and that kind of girlie crap was different than the girlie crap you could buy for a fifteen year old.

I had a freaking blast.

But now I had a lot on my mind.

Meeting Audrey was one thing that was on it.

What I’d do with Rhonda was another thing.

I was settling in and giving her time. But I was going to have to start sorting her shit soon. I just didn’t have a plan.

I was singing Pink’s “Trouble” as I looked around the barn and dealt with Moonshine’s saddle.

Our farm had the four bedroom house and the grape arbor my grandfather put in for my grandmother because she thought it was pretty and she liked to make wine. It also had the gazebo my Dad put in for my Mom so she could plant the wisteria she loved so much. It also had a big red barn edged in white that had six stalls for horses even though there hadn’t been any horses housed there in decades. It mostly provided storage for older equipment and things used around the house, like the riding lawnmower and, of course, now my horses. In the distance we had a grain silo and a pole barn that held the more modern equipment. When they replaced the silo, my father and grandfather decided to put the new buildings in away from the house so as not to ruin the aesthetic of our traditional family farm.

It was a good decision.

Our farm was big, not huge like some of the corporate farms but large for a family run farm. My family’s farm had suffered like all family farms had back in the farm crisis. A decision was made when the farm adjacent to ours was about to hit the auction block because the banks were going to foreclose that we’d buy it in the hopes the extra acreage would keep our farm off that same block. Four hundred and fifty more acres.

A big addition. A lot of extra work. But the decision proved sound. The extra acreage saved our farm.

When I was young, all you could see all around was flat, Indiana farmland. Acres and acres of corn and soybeans. In the distance, you could see The ‘Burg’s white water tower and some buildings. That was it. We were within the official town limits but not near the town proper.

Now, all around our farm were housing developments. Four of them butting our property. And our farm was one of the very few farms left in the town limits.

They were still dropping like flies. The ‘Burg had seen a lot of development in the last thirty years as farms had been gobbled up.

The good news was, these developments, at least around our farm, were nice. Great landscaping, units and houses on them that were definitely meant for mid-to- mid-upper class incomes. Most of them made of brick. All of them clearly had iron-clad, tome-sized HOA covenants overseen by HOA committees that ruled with fists of steel.

This wasn’t my gig but it made the developments nice.

But the size of our farm meant spring through fall it was a lot of work for one man. As was Indiana tradition for centuries, Dad stayed around helping out Darrin until Fin then Kirby could lend a hand and they did this from a very young age. The crop let Rhonda, Darrin and the boys live a decent life but that life was hardworking.

This didn’t mean that Darrin didn’t do extra in order to give them extra. He did. Mainly because he wanted them to have extra and partially because he was a man who had to be busy and there wasn’t a lot to do in the winter on a farm. So he worked full-time every year November through mid-January at the Post Office’s sorting branch to help them with extra mail around the holiday seasons. He also had contracts with three of the four housing developments to clear the snow from their streets if they got a dump.