“Love you too,” I reply just in time to hear the line go silent. Quickly grabbing my stuff, I head straight to the store just outside of town. On the ride over, I try to reach both of my sisters and my brother, then dial Mom. No one is answering their phone, and once I arrive, I understand why. When Dad said all-hands-on-deck, he meant it. Even Finn is running around with a push broom. Although making little headway, he’s still attempting to help.
Dad greets me then calls out, “Mom needs you to help her in the breakroom.”
“What’s going on?” I ask as Dad continues his task, but Rhett looks to me.
“Your boy has everyone running around like they’re insane,” Rhett says. “How’d you convince him to do it here?”
“Do what?” My voice rises as I ask. “What the hell is happening?”
A few customers look my way as Rhett grabs my elbow and pulls me aside. “Did he really not tell you?”
“Does it look like I’m in the know?”
“No, but that’s not unusual for you,” Rhett jokes. “Carter is having a fan signing here at the store on Thursday evening. And he’s Dad’s new favorite child, by the way.”
“A signing. Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. But he’s really rolling out the red carpet for it. They’re sending some fancy caterer over and said they’d have someone come by tomorrow to help clean up, but Dad insisted we start getting everything ready tonight since it’s already been announced.” Rhett motions to the crowd walking around the store.
It’s always had its fair share of business, but from the looks of it, a bigger crowd has definitely descended. And I should be thankful. “I wonder why he didn’t tell me?”
“Probably because you would’ve refused him. Again,” Bodie says from behind me.
I jump, not realizing he was even here at all. “Did you know what he was up to?”
“Nope. Not until your dad called and asked if I could bring my brothers over to help.”
Great. “Why on earth would he schedule a signing at a feed store of all places?”
“If you really don’t know the answer to that question then you’re even more clueless than I thought.” Bodie snickers as he steps away, resuming his task. It’s then that I spot my least favorite of his brothers. I can’t believe he has the nerve to show up here. At all.
Hurrying to the back, I find Mom straightening out the cabinets as Presley organizes the table and chairs, taking note of my arrival. “About time the princess arrived.”
Normally her jabs don’t bother me, but I’m in no mood. “Yeah. I would’ve been here much earlier had I known anything about it.”
“Oh, it’s no problem, sweetie. Just help me get all this straight.” Mom opens another cabinet, hurriedly organizing the plastic cups.
“I doubt he’ll look through the cabinets, Mom.” Presley rolls her eyes as she slams a chair against the table.
“The place has needed a good spring cleaning, so this is the perfect reason for it.” Mom looks to Presley. “So cut the attitude.”
Mom has a sweet voice, but we all know she means business—even if we are grown and out of the house. Presley doesn’t seem to receive the message as she huffs and stomps out of the room.
Mom says, “She’ll come around.”
“Yeah. That makes one of us.” Because my head is still spinning with more questions than answers as I help Mom. I know Bodie was implying Carter had set this up here because of me, but that still doesn’t make any sense. A quick stop by the school with coffee was expected. Involving my family in his insidious mission? Didn’t see that one coming. Just when I thought I was prepared for his next play, Carter Barlowe throws me a curveball.
14
CARTER
Another game down. Another day closer to my start in the rotation. I don’t mind sitting in the dugout and supporting my teammates, but I want to be in the mix; I was made for the action, not watching from the bench.
I’m just about to head out of the clubhouse when I feel my phone vibrate in my jeans pocket. Pulling it out, I read the text a few times.
Unknown: The pointless and boring game has been over long enough. Get your ass out here now.
I stare at the message and hope it’s the one person I’ve been waiting on to message me—although this wasn’t exactly the type of vibe I’d hoped to receive.
Me: On my way.
Unknown: Thanks, asshat.
I chuckle, knowing it’s her. No one else would call me an asshat and demand anything from me. They’d kiss my ass and ask for instructions on what to do next.