2. Lennie

2

LENNIE

“ W ell, that looks to be the last of it. Are you sure we can’t stay to help you unpack?” Minnie asks once all the boxes are piled along one wall. The furniture is in place. Well, not completely where I want it, but it’s in the rooms where it’ll be staying. I can scooch it here or there, and should I change my mind and switch something into another place, I can put the legs on a rug and drag it through the house if need be. I’ve done it time and time again, and when the rug method doesn’t work, there’s always sitting on your ass and digging your feet into the ground while pushing it with your upper body.

“I’m positive. You all have done enough. Seriously.” Minnie and Clay are here. Catherine and Russell, who are now aptly addressed as Momma Catherine and Poppa Russell for my sister and me. Amos and Trey came, too, but they left their wives at home. It’s a busy time of year for Two Chicks, their pottery store. While it stinks I’m missing out on them being here, I know once I get my feet planted firmly on the ground, I’ll make a trip up to Wyoming and Colorado.

“We haven’t done near enough. The walls and ceilings need to be painted, the toilets could definitely be changed out, and you have a leaking kitchen faucet.” Momma Catherine comes up beside us, arm wrapping around my shoulder.

“Dang, how did I not notice any of this? Let me talk to Clay to see if we can get more help at home, and we’ll stay a few more days.” I’m shaking my head, trying to tell my sister no. Too bad she’s already darting toward where the men are congregating, heads dipped while talking about who knows what.

“Come with me, sweet child.” Momma Catherine takes my hand in hers and walks me to where the whole group is standing. Goodness, the last thing I want is more attention on myself. A girl can only handle so much. My therapist says this is the part where you have to allow yourself to feel the love you have surrounding you. Well, I say that’s easier said than done.

“Momma Catherine, I can’t let her stay. They’ve been down here for almost a week already, helping me pack and move. They’re relying on someone else, who isn’t family, which I know means they’re paying them,” I mumble under my breath so only the two of us can hear.

“I know. I’ve got a plan.” It’s clear as day that Catherine Johnson has her shit together. She’s what most would call the glue of the family. She rallies the troops when needed and manages to be a rockstar wife, mom, and grandma. All while including as many people as she can.

“Everyone, I’ve made an executive decision,” she announces as they all lift their head to the matriarch of the Johnson family, extended into the Garcias and now Sinclairs.

“And what’s that, honey pie?” Poppa Russell’s hands go to his suspenders, pulling them away from his stomach while waiting for her response.

“Oh, this is going to be good. You’re in for it now,” Trey interjects.

“Hush, boy,” Momma Catherine says.

“You’re gonna get the closest thing she can grab if you keep pushing it,” Amos says quietly but not quietly enough that I can’t hear him.

“Clementine, you’re about to see her in action.” Clay looks at Minnie with love and devotion. I’m hit right in the solar plexus, leaving a hole smack dab in the middle. I figured by now, a scab would form, but it’s yet to, and I’m the one left in pieces.

“I know, so I guess this means my idea of staying an extra week is out of the question?” my sister asks.

“Yes, it’s completely and totally out of the question. You’ve been back to Florida too many times already, none of it being for vacation either.” I love her. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, even when I adopted her fresh out of high school, forgoing my own youth for hers. I’d do it over and over again, minus the marriage. I wince at the thought. I really thought Zach would be the person I’d spend the rest of my life with. Goes to show how great my taste in men is. Disastrous. That’d be the adjective I’d use to describe for myself.

“Which is why Russell and I are extending our stay. We’re going to help get Lennon on her feet, get a few things done here and there. Then we’re going to go on a much-needed vacation,” Catherine states. Russell gazes at her with pride in his eyes. The others, namely Trey and Amos, are looking at her like she has two heads. “What? Everyone has someone. You all can pull the weight. Your father and I don’t need to be at the ranch every waking moment. We’ve done our time. He’s retired. I’m retired.”

“The queen bee has spoken,” Clay says, squeezing Minnie closer to his side.

“She has.” Catherine nods. “Now, we’re going to hit the hardware store, grab a bite to eat, and come back. I already know the furniture isn’t where Lennon wants it, but she wouldn’t tell any of us that.” She swings her head toward me, and try as I might to fade into the background, it’s no use. Everyone turns to look my way.

“It’s okay. You all put it in the room I want it. The rest will work itself out. As for you two staying, I’d much rather you go on vacation instead of spending some of your time here working on my problem child.” I point at the house behind me. It’s been a fiasco, to say the least. The house may have been left to me along with money, but it still took almost all of the small stipend our Aunt Estelle granted to turn the water and power on, and then there was the electrical. It was chewed through by squirrels. Yep, they got in the attic, had a hay day, and let’s just say that cost a whack. Then there were holes in the wall that needed to be repaired from said electricians fixing it, so the funds were depleted. But the drywall is fixed except it needs paint, a whole freaking lot.

“Lennie.” Minnie moves away from Clay and starts toward me. She’s the younger sister, but lately, it’s been me using her as a shoulder to cry on instead of the other way around.

“Minnie,” I reply, not in a back-off kind of way, more or less telling her that this is my problem and I need her to live her life to the fullest. A slight tilt of her head is the only recognition I receive while she stays with Clay. My emotions are too strong, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep the tears at bay if she hugs me again.

“Alright, so we’ll take one rental car. You all take the other to run your errands and whatnot,” Trey delegates.

“I’m getting on the phone now to cancel our flight home or reschedule it. Whatever your mom wants to do,” Poppa Russell says.

“If you can cancel, let’s do that. I kind of like what Clementine did, driving through the States. Sounds like it’d be romantic,” Catherine says with a flick of her wrist.

“Well, Minnie can tell you all about that,” I tease. The group goes about talking, and since they’re planning everything, I walk down the few steps until my feet hit the concrete and plant my ass on the last step. The bungalow-style house is enriched with history. There isn’t an open floor plan or gray walls or even painted-over wood. I’ll give it to Aunt Estelle; she kept the house as original as possible, right down to the appliances, which still work. The only issues are the leaking faucet, which I’d have done a quick search online for on how to fix it before calling a plumber. Then there’s the need of painting nearly every square inch. It wouldn’t impede on me living in the house. I can do one room at a time on the weekends until it’s finished. The yard is most definitely going to need my attention immediately.

The lawyer stated the yard company was hired through the end of the month, except when I came here last week, I noticed the grass is tall, too tall for this time of year. A quick phone call turned into their number being disconnected, which meant that money is long gone and so is the service.

I’m shaken out of my stupor when Clay’s big body sits down beside me, his shoulder bumping mine. “Keep your chin up and let them help. I know this can be a lot, but let them. This is Catherine and Russell’s deal. They help others. It’s ingrained in them to give back.” He looks my way before continuing, “We’re down here because we want to be. I get what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Clementine does, too, but don’t push everyone away, Lennon. She needs you as much as you need her.”

“Thank you.” Clay looks at me with arched eyebrows. “For loving my sister. For creating a family. For everything you’ve done for not only her but me, too.”

“Nothing I wouldn’t do for the Sinclair sisters. I am going to take you up on the offer of us going back home. I’ll take the other knuckleheads with us, but you have to make a deal with me first.” Clay is up to something.

“Uh-oh, I’m not sure if I should be excited or scared with this line of conversation,” I joke, trying to break up the heaviness that seems to be clouding the sunny skies. Obviously, the cloud is me and my wayward thoughts .

“It’s not bad, just a safeguard. You call anytime, day or night, Lennon. I don’t care if it’s a light flickering, a toilet handle jiggling weirdly, you need money, any damn thing. You call and we’re here, yeah?” He holds my eyes. I’m unable to look away, or I’ll be admitting defeat in my own little fucked-up world.

“I will, but I need you to hear me out.” Clay goes to stop me from talking when I raise my hand, asking for him to listen. “This is your honeymoon phase. Please take the time for the two of you. I’m going to be fine. I’m working on me and now this house. I will be taking Momma Catherine and Poppa Russell up on their offer, I’d be a fool not to. They won’t be staying the entire time with me either. Everyone has a life to live. My speed bump is just that—a speed bump. Okay?” I follow up his question with one of my own.

“Alright, sis, we’re in agreement. Now I’m going to get this show on the road.” Clay stands up, offers his hand, takes his cowboy hat off like the true gentleman he is, and helps me up off the step.

“Thank you. Those two words will never be enough, but thank you all the same.” We head toward the group, and when we go about saying our goodbyes, I hold on to my sister a bit longer.

“Love you, love you so much, Minnie mine,” I whisper. My chin is on her shoulder, her arms are wrapping me up, and mine are doing similar. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to memorize everything about my baby sister like I’ll never see her again. I will, more than likely sooner than either of us think, if a certain cowboy has anything to do with it .

“Love you, Lennie Lou,” she uses my nickname from long ago. Our parents didn’t give us much, and it seems middle names were asking a lot, too. Right as I’m about to close my eyes, I see my new next-door neighbor. He’s tall, dark, and built like a shit brickhouse. I am screwed, seriously screwed.