Page 45 of Trick or Tease

There was a lot of hugging and more tears from Mom before she climbed into the passenger seat.

Dad walked around the entire vehicle, checking tire pressure and testing the hitch connections. He took one last look at us, nodded his head, and then climbed inside.

We stood in the driveway watching the massive RV lumber down the dirt road. We watched until they disappeared around the bend by the old oak tree that marked the property line.

Billy waved until they were completely out of sight, then let his arm drop to his side with a heavy sigh. “Well, that’s that.”

“Weird.”

He nodded. “Very.”

“Have they ever been gone for more than a day or two?” I asked.

Billy let out a short laugh. “Remember when they went to visit Grandpa Hogan in Syracuse? That was what, fifteen years ago? They were gone for two nights.”

I groaned, remembering exactly where this was going. “Oh God. The party.”

“The party,” he repeated, grinning now. “You were home from college for spring break, and I was still in high school. Mom and Dad left us with that list of chores and strict instructions to ‘be responsible.’”

“And you immediately called half of Greenleaf High School.”

“Hey, you’re the one who suggested we invite some of your college friends up from the city. I was thinking maybe ten people max. You turned it into a rager.”

That was fair. I’d been going through my rebellious phase, drunk on freedom for the first time in my life. Looking back, inviting my fraternity brothers to a house party at the family farm had been spectacularly stupid.

“Thirty-seven people,” I said, shaking my head. “I still can’t believe that many people showed up.”

The whole thing had been a disaster. Someone had broken Dad’s favorite fishing rod. There’d been beer cans floating in the pond. Billy’s friend Jake had somehow gotten the tractor stuck in the mud trying to impress a girl. And when Mom and Dad came home a day early because Grandpa Hogan had gotten better faster than expected, they’d walked into a house that looked like a tornado had hit it.

“Dad didn’t speak to me for a week,” I said.

“Mom cried. That was worse.”

“And they never left us alone again. Not once.”

Billy nodded solemnly. “Even when I turned twenty-one, they’d arrange for Aunt Sharon to ‘drop by’ whenever they went anywhere overnight. Like I was going to throw keggers at the feed store.

“Think they’ll actually make it all the way to California?” I asked.

“Mom’s been planning this trip for two years. She’s got a whole binder. She is not about to miss a single item on her itinerary.”

I felt a little guilty. My parents had spent their lives on the farm. I lived a pretty good life in the city while they busted their asses day in and day out. They should have been able to take their trip a long time ago. I should have sent them money so they could. Instead, I bought myself a luxury car.

Damn.

I was a dick.

“I should probably get back to work,” Billy said. “Are you sticking around for real or were you just saying that for their benefit?”

“I’m sticking around.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged.

I knew he wanted me to stay. He didn’t press the issue because he expected me to leave. Abandon him.

Again.