Tree: A Young Adult Fringe Reality Romance Read online

  TREE

  Book One

  T. Nixon

  KDP

  Copyright © 2021 T.Nixon

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: T. Nixon

  Cover image by: T. Nixon

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  To S, E, M, and J

  ONE

  "Victoria?" My aunt Cherry's voice was rough and smooth at the same time. Normally, her voice was warm and slow like honey falling off a spoon, but today, it was rough from all the talking she had done over the past several days. Talking to police, detectives, the media... Her head was poking out from behind the door to my room. All I saw was her disembodied head and her mahogany hair. She clears her throat before she says, "we need to get going soon," so for a second the roughness is gone. She flashes a small smile of encouragement before she disappears.

  I took in the sight of my room. I didn't know when I would see it again. I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair. I didn't know what I felt at that moment. I was experiencing something beyond the usual descriptors of feelings: sad, depressed, angry, scared. My parents had been missing for 10 days. The police suspected they were dead, but I wasn't willing to agree.

  They would turn up, somehow, some way. Deep inside I knew they would come home, even though the police determined it unlikely. My absolute certainty made it impossible to mourn and therefore caused a hurricane of emotions that couldn't settle.

  Aunt Cherry was openly optimistic. I had overheard her tell a detective that she refused to believe her brother and sister-in-law were dead until there were bodies to prove it. I shuddered to think of my parents as "bodies". "Bring me bodies," she had said, "then I'll believe they are dead."

  "You got everything honey?" Cherry called from the bottom of the stairs. She didn't want to rush me, but the drive to her farm was 3-hours in good traffic. It was clear she had work to do, the past 9 days away had been hard for her. I sighed and I grabbed the red duffle bag containing clothes, the last thing loaded into Cherry's SUV.

  I don't watch as she closes and locks the door behind us. I walk straight to the SUV, its gold with her farms logo painted on the side with the words REDWOOD MEADOW FARM & VINEYARD, CERTIFIED ORGANIC. I will miss my house, the place I lived with my parents, with the exception of the 4 weeks I spent every summer with Cherry.

  "You ok honey?" Cherry asked. I could see the tears building in her eyes which caused my eyes to fill too.

  "Yeah, I think so. This is just going to be like any other summer when Mom and Dad went off on an expedition. The only difference is I don't know when they're coming back."

  "That's a great way to look it at," she said, and the relief washed over her. I literally saw it. She directed her attention to negotiating her fully packed SUV off our street. I busied myself by gathering up my long, goldish blonde hair into a pony tail. "Sun kissed" hair, my mom had called it.

  As we drove I thought about the falseness of my words. One minute I was sure my parents were coming back, knowing they would never have willingly left me. The next minute I was sure they were dead, killed by some drugged out maniac, car abandoned by the Sacramento River. What bothered me was how baffled the cops and detectives were. No sign of struggle. Nothing broken. No fingerprints, no DNA, no enemies and no witnesses. As if they simply vanished into thin air.

  I had been at school and had no idea when I left that morning that everything would change. I pushed the thoughts out of my head. I had spent a lot of time going over it and I never came up with anything helpful. There was nothing out of the ordinary in our lives.

  It's better not to think about it. They're coming back. Just don't think about it. It was a mantra I repeated to myself over and over.

  The sun was high as we drove the boring plains outside of Sacramento. As we got nearer to the cutoff to Highway 29 the landscape changed. Coastal trees sprouted and the hills got closer. If I let myself, I could pretend that this was the same drive I had taken every summer for so many years, and would take again in reverse. If I let myself, I could enjoy the bright green of the early spring. If I let myself, I could smile at Cherry and look forward to time on her farm, seeing her horses and her dogs. And AJ, if he was still around.

  The hills and trees passed by and I barely noticed, too caught up in my own reflection, too busy thinking about how my blue eyes were not quite the same shade as my mothers, and how I had my dad’s nose.

  We stopped in San Jose for lunch- for me anyway. Cherry had packed a cooler of the non-processed purely organic foods she ate, for me it was drive through. There weren't many quick food options in Boulder Creek. I was anxious to get to her farm, to get on with this transition and move to the next thing. It was against my nature to dwell, and being in the car for so many hours gave me much opportunity for it.

  ◆◆◆

  It felt like forever, but finally, we arrived at the farm. My aunt jumped out of the SUV and leaned down to greet a gaggle of dogs that ran out to welcome us. I got out of the vehicle and stood by it, wanting to stay out of the frenzy of wet tongues and dirty paws. Cherry moved from hugging the dogs to hugging her farm manager Brad Thomkin.

  Brad was tall and wiry with a receding hair line and extremely blue eyes. His smile was wide, and he called after the dogs even though it obviously wouldn't do any good. It seemed to me the only thing that had changed about Brad over the years was his hairline. Older than my aunt by only a few years, he looked younger than her, his tan skin was unlined, and his smile was quick.

  Cherry asked him how things had been going.

  "Been good. We leased another two acre section on the farm side to Bill McClusky so his crew is going to start turning the ground up on that soon."

  "Oh that's good, that leaves, what, 3 acres?"

  "Yep. Oh and Mr. Harris has been back around, he's all fired up about this... thing." Both of them shot a look over at me and I knew the "thing" he was referring to was my parents disappearance.

  "Well," Cherry said, slowly moving her eyes off me and back to Brad, "of course this is going to remind him. He's always looking for some reason to come around. How did you handle it?"

  "I told him he needed to move along or I would have to call Sheriff Johns. So he went." Brad scratched his head which was starting to turn a reddish pink as he stood in the sun. The dogs had dispersed, bored by the lack of attention, except for Kitten, Cherry's prized German Shepherd. Kitten had laid down at Cherry's feet, panting and watching for any sign of trouble.

  "Well, he's in pain too," Cherry reminded. "He just handles it differently."

  Brad regarded her for a moment and then looked at me. "Come on over here and give me a hug," he said swinging his arms open. I peeled myself off of the SUV and reluctantly crossed the distance between us. I gave him an awkward kind of friendly hug. "You sure did a lot of growing up,” he said holding me at arm’s length. “What’s it been, 2 years since I last saw you?"

  I nodded, but before I was able to respond our attention was pulled towards a large, old-fashioned gambrel style barn. The oversized main door to the Barrel Barn slid open noisily and from within, a handsome, dark haired young man appear
ed.

  "Ah, here comes AJ," said Cherry with a smile. Her eyes lit up a bit. Kitten got up and ran over to him with her tail wagging. I tried not to stare at him as he walked toward us. He looked so different from the last time I saw him. Then he was awkward, tall, gangly and his voice was cracking. His dark curly hair was too long, always disheveled and untamable.

  Two and half years ago he had not quite made the transition into a man, but this person walking towards us, with well-defined muscles and close-cropped black hair was certainly no boy. He was pulling off thick leather gloves as he approached us. Whatever he had been doing in the barn had left a glow to his dark, sun-kissed skin.

  I tried not to appear nonchalant, but he did not contain his stare at me. As he approached us his eyes were intent on me. It made me nervous and caused my throat to tighten. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, only allowing my eyes to dart to him for a few seconds. Surely the discomfort he was causing was noticeable? His eyes were squinting from the sun but still it was apparent they were appraising me, assessing how much I had changed.

  As he got right up to us his hard gaze softened right away and he smiled, revealing a line of perfect white teeth. "Well lookie who's back," he said as he came right up to me and grabbed me in a tight hug. I was dwarfed by him; he had gotten taller while I had seemed to stay the same. His grip was as tight as his body, from boyish lank to long and lean. I tried to ignore the warmth of his skin, the tightness of the muscles in his arms. I gave him a quick pat on the back hoping it would end the embarrassment and he would let me go.

  It worked. He released me, took a step back, and looked me up and down. "You look skinny," he said, his voice was slightly judgmental.

  "Tell me how you really feel," I said sarcastically as I tugged at my t-shirt, trying to loosen its revealing grip on my frame. I probably had lost weight in the past couple weeks, I couldn't remember when I last ate a full meal.

  "I always have, and I always will," he said. His words were lighter than the intense and direct look in his eye.

  I broke his gaze and looked at the ground. I was uncomfortable and nervous and had enough of reunions. My head started hurting from the early sun reflecting off the buildings and cars. I tried to think of something to say to break the awkward silence that overcame our small group, but thankfully AJ beat me to it.

  "Just wanted to come out and say hi. Glad you're back Cherry, Brad here's been working me like a horse. OK, well, I got work to do." He nodded at Cherry and Brad and once again directed his eyes to me. "I'll see you round Vic. We got a lot of catchin' up to do."

  I managed a small nervous nod and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. He quickly turned around and headed back to the Barrel Barn. As he walked away, he left me with a combination of relief and a magnetic urge for him to come back.

  "Hey girlie," Cherry said breaking into my thoughts. "You can forget it, he's taken." Brad let out a chuckle and my face went red. She thought I was checking out his butt but in reality I had been lost in my thoughts, confused by the feelings he left behind.

  AJ glanced over his shoulder and I imagined the scene he as he saw it. I was standing there with my arms crossed over my chest, a scowl fixed to my face with Brad and Cherry on either side of me quietly laughing. He stood for a second and held my gaze before disappearing into the darkness of the barn. His look was as serious as mine.

  "Well,” Cherry said putting an arm over my shoulders, “I better get this girl inside. It's been a long day already." She and Brad said their good-byes and she led me to the house.

  We entered the house through the side kitchen door, the closest to where we had been standing to talk. The inside of the house had changed little since my last visit, it still smelled comfortably like old leather and dogs. The worn-out oak eating table still had reign in the kitchen, and it reminded of many exuberant breakfasts.

  It was customary for my aunt to make an old school country breakfast every Sunday. The kitchen would be full of migrant workers, Brad, sometimes AJ, and James Harris. He had started the farm with Cherry and owned most of it until two years ago, just after my last visit to the farm. James had vanished and soon after declared dead. His case was deemed suspicious and left open, but no one had been charged. Apparently enough evidence had been found to determine he was no longer alive.

  I was never privy to any details other than that Cherry was not implicated in his disappearance. His brother Chester felt differently and moved from England to pursue his own investigation. He harassed my aunt regularly and tried to convince the police that she had done something to James in order to get sole possession of the farm. Clearly this Chester guy did not know my aunt, or ever see how she looked at James. As kids AJ and I would make fun of them whenever they started with their kissing and hand holding. I pushed thoughts of James and Cherry out of my head and went back to my survey of the house.

  Cherry led me through the well-used living room and upstairs to the room that had always been mine when I visited. I walked in slowly and didn't even realize how tense I was until I let out a breath in relief. It was as I remembered it. In fact, everything in Cherry's house was the same except for who was missing from it. Until just then, I hadn't been aware of how badly I needed things to be the same. So far, the only thing I encountered that had changed was AJ- and myself.

  Pictures of Cherry and I riding, among others, still lined the sides of the large window that overlooked the main area of the farm. The wallpaper, a pattern of light green stripes topped by a border of ivy leaves, still had the same wear spot in it from where the doorknob hit the wall over the years. The beige throw rug still sat at the side of the bed nearest the door. The off-white side tables and pure white down comforter that topped the bed all remained the same.

  As I was looking around, the floorboards squeaked, announcing Cherry's presence. "I'm going to give you some time to rest up before we start thinking about dinner... or maybe we should go out tonight?" Cherry's face was , and though I was tired and not ready to socialize with the locals, it was clear making dinner was not high on her list of priorities.

  "Sure, going out sounds fine," I said, though I didn't mean it.

  "What do you think? Pizza?"

  "Sounds great." I gave her a weak smile. I wanted nothing more than to lay down, alone, with no pressure to talk to anyone.

  "Alright, rest a little, settle in." She patted my head in a way that wasn't condescending, with her hand starting on top of my head and then moving down to my shoulder. A comforting touch, and I wished I could feel comforted. She left the room quietly though the floorboards squeaked all the way to the end of the hall and then make light cracking sounds as she headed down the stairs.

  I walked over to the side of the bed and took off my hooded sweatshirt. I tossed it onto a chair in the corner by the window, but I missed. The thump it made when it hit the floor amplified how quiet it was. I was about to lower myself onto the bed when I heard the loud, metallic screeching of the Barrel Barn door. I was drawn to the window where I parted the gauzy white curtains. I saw AJ leaving the barn. He had his back to me; his arms flexed as he gripped the handle and slid the door shut.

  He sat down on an old metal bench nearby and swapped his thick rubber work boots for a pair of worn-out, dirty Nikes. He put the boots in a shed and walked across the gravel yard to the office. He opened the door but didn't go inside, presumably calling in to let Brad know he was leaving. He then made his way to where the cars were parked.

  I kept watching as he opened the door to his truck. He paused before he got in. Hesitantly he turned and looked at the house, right at my window! I automatically jumped out of view, pressing myself against the wall, knocking a picture down in the process. With adrenaline fueling hard breaths, I waited a few seconds before I peeked out the window.

  AJ was in his truck, door closed, and one second later the engine roared to life. The sun was unusually bright in the gravel yard and there was no light in my room. Surely he didn’t see me, right? Ei
ther way I felt stupid for watching him. I flopped onto the bed and tried to convince myself not to be interested in him. I had bigger things to worry about.

  ◆◆◆

  I hadn't realized I fell asleep until Cherry came in and woke me. Right away she noticed the picture that had fallen to the floor. I rubbed my eyes as she walked across the room to retrieve it. I felt foolish as she leaned over and picked it up. Her movement was so slow and methodical as she took a step back and sat on the edge of the bed. She touched the glass gently and a small, sad smile crossed her lips.

  I moved across the bed and sat on my knees next to her and looked at the image. It was one of her and James Harris holding a hand painted sign with the farms name on it. Her finger was resting on his chest and he was smiling wide at Cherry. She was looking directly at the camera, beaming, her younger self reflecting her happiness.

  "He was a good man," she said quietly, her voiced loaded with emotion. She let out a single breathy kind of laugh, as though she wanted to keep the sound of her laughter to herself, and then stood up and placed the photo back on the wall, just underneath one of her standing in the middle of a pack of dogs in front of an unfinished building.