Page 2 of Curses and Cornstalks
An uncomfortable zing races up my spine, and I try to reason it out. There could be some kind of magnetic pull from minerals in the ground making my lungs squeeze tighter—it wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve ever heard—but that seems like a stretch.
Nerves are the most likely culprit.
I bump the car door closed with my hip, just as the screen door creaks open. Aunt Bonnie steps onto the porch, her chestnut hair hanging in perfect curls around her face as she greets me with a dazzling smile.
“Well, hey sugar,” she calls, her southern twang just as I remembered.
She’s wearing flared jeans, the toes of her worn cowgirl boots peeping from beneath them, and a flowy, floral boutique shirt.
“Wayne,” she hollers over her shoulder into the house. “Cass is here!”
She doesn’t wait for her husband before descending the few porch steps and coming at me with outstretched arms. I’m not a hugger, but I know it’s pretty much customary out here. I’d better get used to hugs, small talk, and thick accents if I’m going to survive in Cold Springs for long.
“How’ve you been?” she asks as she pulls me down into a hug, nearly squeezing the breath out of me. Even with her boots giving her an extra boost, I’m almost a head taller.
She smells like a field of flowers, which seems highly appropriate, and even though it’s been ten years since I last saw her, comfort warms my chest. She’s a familiar face in an unfamiliar place, which helps soothe the worst of my anxiety.
Before she lets me go, Uncle Wayne steps outside in a flannel shirt and jeans, followed by my cousin, Madelyn. She looks a lot like her mother—a short, curvy figure and flawlessly tannedskin she surely got from working outside all summer. The only difference is that her hair is bleached blonde and perfectly straight.
We couldn’t look less alike, and I doubt anyone would believe we’re related. I’m tall, almost six-foot in my tennis shoes, and fair-skinned with a spill of red hair. The only tan I have are the freckles that pepper my skin.
Sunscreen is about to be my best friend out here…
“Cassie!” Madelyn squeaks as she rushes to hug me. It feels like yesterday we were pretending to be princesses at the family reunion, but I know so much has changed since then. As much as I’m dreading my stay, I’m looking forward to catching up and having someone close to my age to hang out with. “I didn’t think you’d be here until tonight.”
Her accent is just as thick as her mother's.
I bend to hug her, already overwhelmed by all the physical contact in a few short minutes, then straighten with a lopsided grin.
“Hey, Maddie. I… uh… left earlier than I planned.”
I thought I’d get up and eat breakfast before hitting the road, but I couldn’t spend another second in my old apartment. The empty rooms did nothing to erase the memories I’d made with my ex, and every time I walked past the kitchen, I was reminded of his unfaithfulness.
It was too much, and I was eager to get as far away as I could.
“Let’s get you unpacked and set up in your new room,” Uncle Wayne says with a warm smile and a nod toward my car. “Then we’ll show you around. How’s that sound?”
It sounds like the smartest plan, in my opinion, so I pop the trunk and we get to work. To my surprise, it only takes a couple of trips to move everything inside, but I’m glad—the stairs to the second floor are no joke. I’m out of breath by the time I dump my last load on the bed.
“Do you like it?” Maddie asks, gazing around the room. She lingers near the door, like she’s trying not to smother me while I acclimate to the new space. “Momma and I redecorated when we found out you were coming—finished it just yesterday.”
The room isn’t to my taste at all, but I have to admit, they did a good job. Three of the walls are painted soft pink, while the fourth is white shiplap. Paintings of farm animals hang sporadically around the room, and a string of white lights lines the ceiling. The bed is dressed in pink cow print, made so perfectly it belongs in a magazine. A plush white rug covers most of the hardwood floor, and a white dresser in the corner rounds out the décor.
“It’s great.” It doesn’t matter that it’s not my style, because it’s only temporary. We haven’t decided exactly how long I’ll be staying, but it won’t be more than a few months, if I even stick it out that long.
This is a transition home until I find something better, something permanent.
For now, it’s good enough.
“Perfect,” she cheers, clapping her hands together excitedly. “We can organize everything later; let’s show you around the farm.”
The farm.
I’ve never even stepped foot on one before, and now, I’m getting a crash course on agriculture.
Wonderful.
Madelyn may look and talk like a southern belle, but she shovels hay and rides a four-wheeler like nobody’s business. She shows me around until dinner, explaining the various chores on the farm and what I’ll be expected to help with. Half the time, I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I keep nodding along, like it’ll somehow sink in.
