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I’m fucked.
She doesn’t trust me to protect her, and it’s something I have to live with now, apparently with her spending time under my roof.
We eat the chili in silence. Dolly makes small talk with Rosie, who still won’t meet my eyes.
Cash, Sterling, and Duke join us, all greeting Rosie with confused expressions and murmuring, “Welcome back.”
I’m highly aware of everywhere she moves, soaking up each giggle and smile that she bestows on all my siblings, but never me.
My father joins us for dinner, cupping her shoulder in a hug. “My girl is finally home.”
She kisses him on his wrinkled cheek. He seems sober more often now than he is drunk, or maybe he’s just getting better at hiding it.
I finish my bowl of chili, rising from the table to go shower.
“Thanks for dinner, Doll,” I call out, rinsing my bowl to put it in the dishwasher.
“You’re welcome. By the way, we need you to start moving out tomorrow so Rosie can take your room.”
I freeze. Silence falls over the table. I resume my task, calmly placing my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher before pivoting to face her.
“Since when is she moving in here?”
Out of the question. I won’t get a damn thing done.
Dolly pours herself another glass of iced tea and shrugs. “I offered her the position of housekeeper again, but she needs somewhere to live. I figure since Sterling is shipping out to basic training next week, it’s the perfect timing.”
The hard stare I pin my sister with doesn’t faze her. She flashes me a sweet smile and takes another bite of chili.
“Duke, move your shit to the bunkhouse,” I bark, storming toward the hallway.
“Rosie can room with me; it’s no problem,” he pipes up.
I pause in the doorframe, gripping it so hard that I half expect to hear a splintered crack in the wooden trim. “Move. Your shit. To the bunkhouse.”
“Why don’t we let Rosie decide? She can sleep wherever she wants.”
Another ten seconds of silence permeates the space.
Sterling clears his throat. “Damn, this shit is good. You outdid yourself, sis.”
I continue marching down the hall, sick of this bullshit competition Duke keeps trying to force me back into. Rosie made her choice, clearly. She doesn’t want either of us. And at this point, I know he’s just fucking with me to be a dick.
After pulling off my dirty work clothes, I turn on the water to let it heat. I stare at myself in the mirror.
Finally, I turn away and step into the shower.
I let the hot water spray over me, washing away the grime and filth of the day before collapsing into my bed into a restless sleep. I beg my subconscious mind to just shut the fuck up already, refusing to listen for which door Rosie might walk through down the hall.
I don’t know how long she’s going to keep chipping away at my heart, taking one sliver of it with her at a time, but I can’t take much more of it.
I spend the next day outside from sunup to sundown. Sweat drips down my brow despite the mid-December chill as I mend fences and move cattle from one pasture to another. Sterling rides with me in silence, and I’m grateful for his patient, calming disposition. Duke would fuck with me and probably end up with my fist in the center of his face, and Cash would ask questions I don’t feel like answering. Sterling doesn’t say a word.
Once my stomach is growling with a roaring hunger, we return to the main house. Dinner was already served, and a half-eaten pan of Rosie’s lasagna is sitting on the stove, covered in foil. Laughter from Rosie, Dolly, and Duke floats from the living room into the kitchen. Sterling heats up his food and walks toward the main area with his plate.
While my plate heats in the microwave, I turn around to grab a fork, smacking my head on an open cabinet door.
“Fuck,” I exhale as it throbs, shutting my eyes.
