Page 46 of Bad Decisions & Back Roads

Three hours later,I chopped wood like a man obsessed.One log after another split beneath the blade until my shoulders burned and sweat soaked through my shirt.

“What in the name of all that’s holy is this racket?”my mom yelled.

I glanced over my shoulder.She stood on my back porch in a fluffy pink bathrobe and pink slippers, wearing the kind of expression usually reserved for raccoons in the attic.Without replying, I turned back and buried the axe in another log.Truth be told, this felt like a healthier outlet than getting drunk and picking a fight with someone in a bar who didn’t deserve my fury.

“Stop it!”Mom ordered.

I yanked the axe free, swung again, and lodged it deep in the next piece before turning to scowl at her.

“It is eleven-thirty at night,” she snapped, planting her hands on her hips.“It’s pitch black, and you’re out here behaving like a deranged pioneer.What on Earth is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

Mom dropped her chin, closed her eyes, and muttered, “Give me strength.”Then she exhaled long and slow.“What did you do?”

I crossed my arms.“Why do you automatically assume it was my fault?”

She stared at me for a beat.“You’re rage-splitting firewood at midnight after you lied to me about needing to do work tonight.”

I frowned.“You just said it’s only eleven-thirty.”

“This will go much faster, Timothy Hurst, if you confess whatever you did so I can go back to bed.”

I glared.

“You know the rules for living on my property,” Mom said.“Rule number one: do not wake up your father after he’s asleep.That man gets up at four every morning and barely survives on caffeine and ibuprofen.I’ve told him you’re already doing the dairy in the morning.No reason for him to be down there too, but we both know nothing is going to change his routine.Second, don’t wake up Sofia.”She lifted a foot to point a slipper at me.“Either spit out what’s driven a bee up your butt or start packing for eviction.”

It was an empty threat.Mom would never risk living farther away from Sofia.But Dad?Dad absolutely might load my truck.

“I let her go,” I finally said.

“Her?You mean Gia?”

“We talked about the past while she was out tending to Erika’s mare.We decided it’s best we move on.Now she’s dating someone else.”

“After the other night when you were a mess, you then…” Mom held up her hands to punctuate each word she said.“Let.Her.Go?”

“She couldn’t promise not to run again.I’m not sure I can invest in something real without guarantees.”

Mom marched down the stairs, took me by the arms and shook me.“I raised you to be smarter than this.That woman is back here to watch her sister die.She’s living in the place that caused her so much pain she had to run away when she was a child.On top of all that, you tried pressuring her into making some sort of commitment to you?”A wheezing groan escaped her.“I love you to the moon and back, but you are a hurricane pretending to be a tropical storm.”

I dropped my eyes from her and said in a small voice, “I have Sofia and all.I don’t want to see Sofia hurt.If she got attached to Gia only for Gia to leave like Milly…”

“If Gia is the kind of person who would do that, then youshouldlet her go.We don’t need anyone like that near the family.”

“She’s not,” I said softly.

“Timothy, you’re a grown man.Act like it.”Mom shook me once more and stepped back.She gave me her about-to-get-critical squinty eye.“Gia didn’t fall to her feet begging forgiveness for breaking your heart and you’re butt sore over it.”

“I’m not butt sore.”

Her eyebrows climbed.“You’ve been rage-chopping wood for two hours.”

“That’s exercise.”

“You split my favorite stump in half.”

“It’s not like that.”