Adair Road

By JG Pennington

Luke and Jen have a lot of history on that river, the Kissimmee. They've been each other's first everything and the river has witnessed part of it. The night Jen stayed over for his thirteenth birthday, Luke kissed her on the cheek. But a couple years later, out in a canoe, among the twists and turns of the Kissimmee, Luke kissed her on the lips. Jen will always remember her first kiss, she was so startled, for more than one reason..."Gator," Luke sternly whispers. Jen's eyes grow wide, she slowly turns around, and spots two small, black orbs reflecting in the sunlight staring right back at her.
Now, in her late twenties, Jen spends her days on the second floor of an office building in downtown Orlando. She was determined to leave life in the trailer park behind and chase after something else...just, she didn't know what that something else was. It's been years since she's last seen Luke or thought back to that day on the river. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: JG Pennington
• Release date: Mar 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224671717

JG Pennington

JG Pennington is based in Raleigh, North Carolina. She holds a master's degree in Public Administration and Public Policy. When she isn't writing, you can find her traveling, hiking, kayaking, and practicing yoga. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

I’m six and the wind is wiping through my fingers as we drive through the orange groves in our old, once red van. It’s 1984 and one of those perfect weather days. It’s the type of day where you could spend all of it outside. Summer has just passed, which means the humidity isn’t as bad, and occasionally a breeze will come through and blow my hair around. We’re on our way to the Grant’s today. I love the way dad drives to get us there, down an old dirt road through what seems like endless rows of orange trees spanning each side of the road. Orange blossom sweetens the air as if you weren’t suppose to smell anything else, and there isn’t a cloud in the bright, blue sky. Going on this drive, to the Grant’s, always makes it seem as if we are driving in another world. A world far away from the trailer park.

At the end of the rows of orange trees, dad turns the van right and we are suddenly transported away from the orange groves and into the woods. Orange trees turn into towering cypress and oak trees older than you and me, their branches reaching out towards you, covered in Spanish moss. A bit further down this dirt road, an old metal gate marks our arrival. I am sitting on my hands, excited, in the van as dad gets out to open the gate. I love coming over to the Grant’s, they have two boys just as ma and dad have two girls. I’m the oldest and their son, Luke is their oldest, we’re best friends. Well, he’s my best friend at least. I don’t like many of the kids in our trailer park.

Dad gets back in the van and we slowly roll into their property. I’m ready to get out and run to the house to play with Luke and eat some of Ms. Shirley’s food. Don’t get me wrong, ma is a good cook, when she cooks, but Ms. Shirley, I think she could sell her food in a restaurant.

Jeannine, did you hear me? Frank asks.

Just like that, I’m back in the conference room on the top floor of our building over looking a concrete jungle.

Sorry, I reply, apologizing for getting lost in my daydream.

The briefs, did you bring the briefs? he asks.

Grabbing the pile of manila folders I organized earlier this morning, I hand them over to my boss. Thank you, he says, looking sternly at me. I feel my cheeks flush and look around at the table full of other men. Right now, I’m the only woman in this room. The firm has two women on staff, me a paralegal, and the front desk woman, Gwen, who only answers the phone and passes out the mail each day.

That day at the Grant’s, I was thinking about, was one of many. I haven’t seen Luke since my third year in college. We took different paths after high school, he stayed outside, doing god knows what, or maybe he is off working somewhere. I don’t know. But that’s what I traded, life outside, running through the woods, to sitting in a conference room at Blue Cypress Litigation in Orlando. I was the first and so far only one in my family to go to college. Ma and dad didn’t go to college. It turns out ma…well, when I was younger I thought the whole world of ma. I always thought she was someone important, because well, ma was never home. The times she was home, she slept, sometimes she did the laundry, but mostly slept. Then she was never there. Younger me assumed ma must be important, had to handle big things, and needed to be somewhere else other than home. Turns out though, ma was just a waitress at a twenty-four hour diner off the highway. Dad stayed with Emma and I when we were home from school. On the weekends, dad went to the coast to work on boats. So, usually it was just Emma and me figuring life out as kids in the trailer park. I eventually learned that was pretty typical for any other kid in the trailer park.

I went to community college at first, after high school, not believing I was smart enough to go to a regular four-year university. Most of the other girls…or any other kid for that matter in our trailer park didn’t have dreams of college. But, I did and I was smart enough, smart enough to get a scholarship and finish my bachelor’s degree at a university.

That was dangerous though, dreaming of what life could be like with a college degree and getting out of the trailer park. I would spend my time day dreaming when I was younger, like I was getting paid to do it. Imagining myself as someone important, who I thought ma was all those years ago, someone with the resources to do something with my life. I could go live in the city and buy a house, get away from neighbors being five feet away, hearing their cars roll up and down the gravel lots at all times during the night.

It is dangerous to dream, because I’m here, now, in the city, at a large law firm as a paralegal, and life isn’t like what I thought it would be. It’s a bit lonelier.

Ok, team, we have two weeks until Anderson’s trial. Please review the briefs Jeannine prepared, and send any suggestions my way, Frank announced, passing out a manila folder to everyone, but myself since I kept a copy before giving the stack to Frank.

We are working on another bankruptcy case. Our defendant was adamant on not settling out of court, which typically isn’t the wisest thing to do. He believes Blue Cypress can win for him in court. We’ll see what happens, I suppose. Frank is Blue Cypress’s Partner Attorney and has represented many bankruptcy cases over his time. Frank is an old snow bird, moved down to Florida from New Jersey in the seventies, and stayed. During my transition from community college to university, I moved out of ma and Dad’s trailer into a studio apartment and got a job as an office assistant at a different bankruptcy firm, again being one of the only women in the building.

Law intrigued me and I know I could be good at it. I liked the idea of fighting for what was right.

After graduating, I applied for lots of different opportunities. All of these opportunities were outside of Yeehaw Junction. That’s right, Yeehaw Junction. It’s a real place. We live in between highways of people going places, to every other direction but Yeehaw. Not much is in Yeehaw, we have a motel, gas station, and lots of swamp to get lost in. Though, instead of sharing that I grew up in an unheard of named area and getting wide-eyed looks, I just tell everyone I’m from Kissimmee and then they think I grew up at Disney World. Working in law is tough enough as a woman, I can’t also be from the middle of no where.

Chapter 2

I’m eight and racing Luke around his family’s property. It’s summer and the day for the Grant’s annual Olympic games. The Grant’s host their version of the Olympics every summer, for us kids. It probably gives the adults an excuse to be outside doing their own thing. Luke’s home-school friends attend along with me and Emma, but she’s only three this year as is Isaiah. Luke is home-schooled, I always wished I were able to stay with the Grant’s and do homeschooling like Luke and soon to be Isaiah. Instead, I ride my old bike to school every day with some kids from the trailer park. I don’t really like any of them.

Luke is ahead of me, he is faster than me on running long distance. I can beat him on a short sprint, though. I’m trying to catch up to Luke as he takes the corner around Mr. Mark’s shed. I come around the corner faster than I thought my legs could take me, but suddenly I’m on the ground, staring up at the giant body of a pig. The pig was hanging from his hind legs in Mr. Mark’s shed, headless. Pushing my butt back across the dirt, I jump up and look around. Realizing I can’t see Luke anymore, or anyone else for that matter, I scream and race back to the house.

With tears streaming down my dirt covered face, I find my ma on the porch and point to the shed through my sobbing. What took you so long, Luke calls. No sense crying over loosing, he adds, sipping on a glass of lemonade. I can’t look at him, or respond.

Ma walks down the porch with me towards the shed, and I show her the hog, tied up, and missing its’ head.

Oh, Jen-Jen, that’s what your dad and Mr. Mark shot earlier this morning, she explains. You don’t have to look at it, let’s go back to the house and get you cleaned up.

I never learned to hunt. I feel like everyone we knew hunted. Even some of ma’s friends like Ms. Laura. I didn’t want to learn to hunt after that incident, that summer. Since I was eight, the image of that poor pig hanging by his legs has been burned into my brain. Hunting ended up being one of the things Luke and I couldn’t do together as we got older.

Hey dad, I say, as he answers the house phone. There she is, he says, with his scratchy voice. Hows your weekend going, I ask, as I’m pacing around my small studio apartment.

Oh it’s going, was at the marina the past few days. Cleaning, moving boats, you know the deal… Emma is on her way over from, uh, I think his name is Brandon.

Already, I exclaim, glancing at my wrist for the watch I took off earlier.

Well, you know how she is, doesn’t like to leave her ole pop alone for too long. Doesn’t think I can fend for myself here, he adds. Oh, she’s just pulled up now!

Dang. Well ok. I’ll be down there tomorrow, is that ok? I’ll talk to Emma about something for dinner.

Of course Jen-Jen. Hope you’re doing well. See you tomorrow.

Love you, dad.

Love you, Jen-Jen, he says as I wait for Emma to come on the line.

Sighing, I take the receiver off of my ear for a moment. While she’s keeping me waiting, I open my refrigerator and move some things around to reach the open bottle of Riesling.

I pour the cool wine into a mason jar and take a sip. Emma is so much like ma and she probably doesn’t even realize it. Ma left us, well passed away, before I started my third year of college. One morning ma came from work, went to sleep, and didn’t wake up. Emma found her first, after school. I still remember Emma screaming into the phone, asking what to do. Dad was away at the marina, it was a bad day. The doctor’s said ma’s heart gave out. Ma didn’t have any life insurance or anything, and dad couldn’t afford a funeral. The Saturday after she passed, we gathered at the Grant’s for lunch and Ms. Shirley said a prayer. It was mostly a quiet lunch out on their back porch with giant oak branches hanging over us. I can remember that day almost perfectly, it was practically noiseless as I remember it, I don’t know if we’ve ever been so quiet. Ms. Shirley tried to be cheerful, but I remember she was smiling through tears. After lunch, I took myself on a walk to a trail on their property, I remember running my fingers through the moss hanging off the trees. Luke eventually found me and walked with me, not exchanging any words. We just walked together. Ma was cremated and she sits on a shelf back home in the trailer. She’s been gone five years now. I was twenty one and Emma was sixteen at the time, Emma had just started tenth grade. Emma was held back a year in middle school and she ended up not making it all the way through high school. A few kids from our trailer park didn’t make it through high school either. Emma dropped out to work and help dad. It was hard when ma passed. I wanted to leave school to work full time to help dad and Emma. But dad wouldn’t let me. Emma and I grew apart during that time, she couldn’t understand why I stayed in school and stayed away. I sent dad any extra money I made at the law firm, but in Emma’s eyes it wasn’t enough. She was the one who dropped out, to help pay bills, do laundry, clean, cook, and help dad keep a normal life. In the same year, Emma lost our ma and I was keeping myself busy focusing on myself, my education. I don’t blame her for resenting me, or feeling well, however she feels about it.

Though, Emma has moved on a bit, she’s seeing someone and stays at his place most nights, says dad. I just hope who ever he is, is good for her. Years ago, when we were younger, I was convinced I would end up with Luke Grant and Emma would be with his younger brother, Isaiah. Life has a funny way of working out. I still think about Luke, we have too many memories together to not remember.

Taking another sip of wine, I grow inpatient and say, Hello, into the receiver.

Dad said you want to talk she says, answering, without saying hello, which was typical of her. I only hear from her when I call or on the rare occasion I forget something or am running late.

Uh, yep, wanted to talk about dinner on Sunday. I can grab some groceries or whatever, I offer.

I just got some for dad, but ya get something so we don’t use up his food.

Thanks for getting him groceries, I say, trying to give her some credit. How about I grab things for spaghetti? On the rare Friday or Sunday evening when ma was home, she would make spaghetti. She’d make a sauce that cooked on the stove all day. Our little trailer would fill with the sent of stewed tomatoes, olives, and basil, it was special. We all knew we were getting a real, home-cooked meal that night. On spaghetti night, things seemed normal, ma and dad were both home, we sat down to dinner at a table like a regular family would and talk about the day.

That’d be nice, Emma responds, could you grab garlic bread and salad too?

No problem, I’ll see you around four tomorrow, I say ending our call and taking another sip of my wine.

Talking to Emma, even over groceries, exhausts me. I miss our old relationship. We grew up doing almost everything together. When I was in middle school, she’d wait for me to get home, and then when I was in high school, I’d wait for her to get home. Emma and I spent most afternoons, after school, in the woods behind our trailer, pretending to live other lives among the tall oak and cypress trees. We’d be out of the trailer park, away from neighbors shouting at each other, or dogs barking. Ma didn’t like us playing in the woods, she would always warn us about ticks and would want to check our bodies when we came back inside, if she were home. In the woods, sometimes, I’d pretend to be a pirate exploring an unknown land and Emma would play a princess. Emma would usually always play a princess, she once got a dress-up set for Christmas one year and held onto the fake jewelry and crown for years. I think being a princess was Emma’s escape. In the woods, she’d pretend to have animals help her with homework, chores, and pick out the imaginary dress she’d wear to whatever made up ball. Once in the woods, I brought out one of dad’s pocket knives to use for my sword instead of a stick. I was excited and felt so grown up with it in my hands. I didn’t tell dad I took it. When I had it unfolded Emma touched the blade and sliced her finger. Up until that point I had never seen a finger bleed so much. I tried wiping her blood off her finger with leaves, but that didn’t help, her finger just kept bleeding and she started crying. I told her to not worry, I didn’t want to get in trouble. Eventually, I had to walk us back home, fearful of how dad would react, with Emma’s bloody finger covered in the leaves and grass I wrapped around it. After that, I never brought any of dad’s knives out to the woods anymore when Emma and I were playing.

Chapter 3

I’m twelve, it’s summer time and hurricane Charley knocked out our power two days ago. The county canceled school, the schools didn’t have power either. I’ve found a book and it is cooler to sit on the steps outside our home than it is to sit inside. The book is Maniac Magee. Ma wants me to come inside, but I don’t want to be in there, and I can’t read in there, it’s darker than it is outside. Ma’s diner doesn’t have power either, but they tell her they’re getting a generator soon. She says when they get a generator she can bring some food home for us. Ma has been fixing canned beans…canned everything for dinner. Otherwise we’re eating banana and peanut butter sandwiches. The past couple days dad and ma have been fighting too. I don’t know if it’s because of the heat or because suddenly shes home all the time now, but I don’t like it. It’s better to be outside, reading about Jeffrey Magee, his world, and trying to keep the mosquitoes off me. Ma says I’m too sweet which is why I get so many mosquito bites. I’d rather not be sweet to keep the mosquitoes away,