Accidental Knight by Snow Nicole

Author:Snow, Nicole [Snow, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ice Lips Press
Published: 2019-05-27T04:00:00+00:00

11

Family Business (Bella)

I close the door to the dishwasher and hit the start button with a sigh.

It’s been about a week, but it feels like three whole months.

Another meal by myself. It doesn’t matter how early I get up in the morning, Drake has already eaten and he’s off doing something.

Yesterday, it was a brand new gutter on the backside of the pole shed. The day before, it was perfect weather to fix a few shingles on the barn. Before that, it was the shutters on the second floor of the house, and then the snarled tree branches hanging over the garage attached to the house.

Tomorrow it’ll be a week since we’d eaten at the diner and faced Mom head-on. A week since we’d kissed like we just survived a nuclear blast in his truck.

Regret churns the oatmeal I’d eaten a short time ago. I’m almost nauseous.

Drake has found something to do every day ever since. Outside. High in the air. Wherever it’s not safe for me to help.

I’m not clueless. He’s found all of these things on purpose.

And I think I know why.

He’s avoiding me because of the stupid, stupid game I’d played, trying to convince my parents there was more between me and Drake. He’d gone along with it then, in public, but privately, he’s made it clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me.

It started right after we left town that day. He’d grown quiet, this dark shadow slipping over his face. Probably because he realized full well how foolish he’d been.

By the time we’d arrived home, it was like he’d closed down.

I hadn’t noticed it at first. Well, I had noticed how solemn he’d become on the way home, but I thought he’d come around.

Nope.

I swear, he’s only said a grand total of about fifty words a day to me since then, and they’re always about what he’ll be doing outside, and how he’s 'fine' handling it himself.

It’s worse than living with my mother, this...whatever it is.

It’s walking on eggshells day in and day out. She’d clam up when something hadn’t gone her way, and both my father and I would pay the price.

Just like I am now. But I don’t even know what I’ve done to Drake, or why he’s turned into a human cactus.

My phone goes off, and I push off the counter, walking to the table where I’d left it.

Yep, it’s her. Mom.

So much for the eerie quiet being the only worry.

I walk away without even looking at the messages. I make it as far as the living room before I stop and look around.

Nothing needs to be cleaned, vacuumed, or washed. Because I’ve scrubbed this place up and down for the past week, right before I’d gone stir-crazy putting that beautiful kitchen to good use.

Now we’ve got double fudge cookies in the cookie jar, a carrot cake in the fridge, and two loaves of apple cinnamon bread that I’d baked yesterday in the bread box. All from scratch. Old recipes I’d found in an old dog-eared cookbook and decided to try.

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