Page 1 of Spencer and the Younger Girl
Spencer
Coming home was not what Spencer Lee considered an epic end to three years of travel. Nor was the job waiting for him on his parents’ ranch. Yep, Gulf City, the beachy tourist destination was also home to the Lees, a family with more mud on their boots than sand.
Most people in town never ventured out of their sheltered existences to see what else was out there.
But Spencer Lee? He’d seen it all.
And everything led him right back here to his parents' doorstep with a single travel-stained duffel slung over his shoulder.
He glanced behind him, taking in the familiar scenes of the ranch. Horse barns lined the far end of the property with pastures stretching out before them. Beyond that, the neighbor’s cattle roamed across the grass, their black forms shadows in the waning light.
The scent of manure permeated the air.
Ah, the ambiance.He sighed. Three years ago, he’d skipped his own graduation to take a plane out of here. There were a lot of things he’d hoped to leave behind, but the past had a habit of following him wherever he went.
At the time, all he’d wanted was to escape the cage of this town and the memories it held.
And his parents didn’t understand that, they didn’t understand him.
Spencer won the lottery the day he was born. He grew up with the ideal parents. A mom who doted on him, a dad who taught him.
And his brother… Damien was the best part of returning home. Spencer just didn’t know if it was enough.
One month. He’d give himself four weeks to figure out what came next.
Just as long as none of them learned why he’d left in the first place.
Lifting his hand, he rapped his knuckles against the worn wooden door. The entire house was in need of a paint job, but with so many tasks to be done on the ranch, it wasn’t high on the list.
Footsteps sounded from inside the house, and Spencer braced himself.
The door opened, and time stood still. Sheila Lee hadn’t changed at all. From her tanned skin to the chestnut hair piled on top of her head, she looked just as she always had. Kind. Tired, but kind.
“Jerry!” she called over her shoulder. “Get out here. I think I’m having a stroke.”
Spencer couldn’t move as his dad sprinted into the narrow front hallway, skidding to a stop when he took in his son. Jerome Lee, with his dark skin and workman’s build, turned away from Spencer to look over his mom.
“Am I seeing things, Jerry?” she whispered loud enough for Spencer to hear. “Or am I dying?”
“Ma.” Spencer stepped forward.
“Now I’m hearing things too,” she wailed.
“Honey.” Her husband gripped her shoulders and bent his head to look her in the eye. “Our son is standing two feet away.”
Neither of them had said a word to Spencer. He always thought his parents were the perfect match, the ideal duo. It had been a lot to live up to in his life. He’d never fit their brand of excellence, not that they ever asked him to.
His mother approached him as one would a wounded animal, thinking they’d run. “Spence?”
“Yeah, Ma. It’s me.”
A cry broke past her lips, but she didn’t reach for him.
And it tore Spencer in two. He’d never wanted to hurt his parents, but he had a habit of hurting everyone who came into his life.
“Spence, you’re home.” She pulled her hand back and slapped him across the face.
He jumped away from her, rubbing his cheek. He deserved that and so much worse. “I’m sorry?”
