Young Love Dies Hard: The Young Brothers, Book 1 by Nikki Lane (best memoirs of all time txt) 📕

She groaned and flopped over on her stomach. “Summer vacation’s not over yet.”

“Time to get up!”

It took her a minute to realize it was me, but when she did, her eyes widened.

“You’re here,” she said, sitting up. “It’s about time.”

I scooted up so that I was lying next to her. “I drove as fast as I could.”

“What time is it?” She stretched her arms over her head.

“Time for you to get up. Company will be here soon.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I hope Uncle Will doesn’t show up. If I have to hear about his chronic grout…”

“You mean gout.” I chuckled.

“Whatever.”

It was a favorite pastime of our family. Arguing over whose medical problems were worse.

“You know you’re looking forward to it,” I said.

“Not as much as you are.” Her round light blue eyes twinkled. They reminded me so much of our father.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Isn’t your old boyfriend coming today?” The freckles over the bridge of her nose danced when she smiled.

“He wasn’t an old boyfriend. Just a friend.”

“I don’t remember him.”

“Well you wouldn’t. You were just a baby when he moved away.”

“Aunt Meg showed me the picture of him. Do you think he still looks the same?”

I got up from the bed and tinkered with some of the things on her dresser. “Of course, not. People change.” An opened music box sat in the corner—a ballerina on pointe, her arms in fifth position.

“That’s so true. Like Aaron McGregor, Riley’s old boyfriend, when he came back from summer camp.”

I closed the box and reopened it, but the music didn’t turn on. The ballerina twirled in the middle of the box; her fading face fixated toward the sky. It had been a gift from Jacob for my thirteenth birthday. “What do you mean?”

Kasey stuck her finger in her throat and made a gagging sound.

I laughed. “Get up and get ready. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

* * * *

As soon as the rain let up, I walked to the barn to find Uncle Jim with Jack trotting beside me. I inhaled the smell of wet grass and ran my hand against the sheets waving in the breeze on the clothesline. As I got closer to the barn, the sweet dewy smell of the damp earth was soon replaced with the smell of goats and chickens. I unlatched the gate and swung the heavy door open.

“Uncle Jim?” I called.

The faint bleating of goats resonated toward the cavernous space.

“In here,” he called back.

I stepped inside, following the sound of his voice.

I walked past the empty pens until I found him hunched over a pile of hay.

“Hey, Uncle Jim.”

He smiled wide. “Look who it is.” He stood up to give me a hug. “You came just in time. Could use another hand around here. This girl’s gonna’ pop any minute now.”

I chuckled as he pet the goat’s head. “She looks like she’s about to burst. How many does she have in there?”

“Hard to say, really. One for sure. Maybe two.” The doe wobbled down on her front legs to nestle into the hay. “How’ve you been? It’s been a while since we’ve had you home.” He pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his flush face.

“I know. I’ve just been busy with school and work.” I followed him out of the stall and watched as he locked the gate.

“That’s okay. You’re all grown up now. Hard for us old people to understand that. And by old people, I mean your Aunt Meg.”

I smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

He ran the handkerchief over his face again.

“You feeling okay?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Has your aunt gone into crazy mode yet?”

“Sort of,” I replied. “She sent me out here to come get you. She doesn’t think it’ll be good for the party if you show up smelling like the animals.”

He chuckled as we walked. “Are you ready for this BBQ?”

I shrugged. “Every relative within a five-hundred-mile radius all together in the blazing heat? Sounds like a great time.”

“Oh, it won’t be that bad…hopefully.”

I sighed. “I know.”

Back at the house, Uncle Jim and I did a few more last-minute tasks while Kasey picked wildflowers for the tables. After everything was ready, I snuck away to take a shower and wash the sweat off. I’d spent the last two hours arranging tables and chairs under the tent in the backyard in the disgusting humidity. Not to mention, I could still smell what’s-his-name’s cologne on my skin from our romp last night.

I left my hair wet, braided it, and threw on the shorts and top I packed. The foam flip-flops were already falling apart, so I’d be barefoot for the rest of the day. Not that I cared. I’d spent plenty of time as a kid running around this place with no shoes on.

Downstairs, Aunt Meg and Uncle Jim were bickering. I stopped at the top of the steps to eavesdrop. They were talking so low, but the walls were thin in this old house.

It wasn’t the first time I’d overheard them bickering about money. The farm had been struggling for the last few years, and things were only getting worse. Earlier, when I’d been searching for the scissors, I’d come across a few past due bills tucked away in a drawer.

I crept downstairs, and they stopped when they noticed me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

They both froze, their mouths open. They looked to each other, probably hoping the other had a better explanation.

“Nothing, dear,” Aunt Meg said.

“Come on, guys. You still think I can’t hear you arguing when I’m not in the room.”

“We’re not arguing,” Uncle Jim said. His face had grown a shade redder than before. “We’re just having a discussion.”

They were still talking low, and I knew it was because they didn’t want Kasey to overhear the conversation. I glanced out the window over the kitchen sink and saw her arranging the flowers in a vase at one of the tables outside.

“Is the farm in trouble?” I asked.

Uncle Jim and Aunt Meg