MUST... POST... BLOG!!!

Brand new job (that's right ladies and gentlemen, kids of all ages, Kaycee has started her brand new job! Woot!) plus freakishly behind on NaNoWriMo plus stupid stomach issues equals low quantities of blog posts. So, for lack of anything freakishly exciting to discuss, here's the first scene of my NaNo Novel... which is still lacking in a name. All in good time, my friends; all in good time.

Katy’s blue truck’s bed was packed more so with her mom’s things than her own. Her dad and her older brother Cody were tying everything down while her nineteen-year-old brother, Joey, was leaning against the driver’s door. "Don’t miss us too much now," he said.

"Don’t worry, I won’t," she said sarcastically. She added an extra scoff for good measure. For this moment, she would pretend it was true.

"After all," Joey added, "it’s not like we’ll be missing you."

"Uh-huh. How many weeks ‘til harvest?" she asked. "Tell me that one more time once it’s just you three doing the same amount of work."

He chuckled. "Definitely won’t miss you," he teased. "You never made that big of a difference in the work load anyway." She punched him in the arm.

"All set," Cody said, patting the side of the truck. "Easy on the brakes."

Katy nodded. "Will do."

"And don’t let those city guys get away with anything."

"I won’t."

"And don’t make me come up there," he added. "Behave yourself."

That wasn’t something she wanted to promise. "I’ll try." Cody laughed and pulled her into his big chest. When he stepped back, he roughly cleared his throat in a classic attempt to preserve his hard, masculine image. Katy prayed that her own tears would stay at bay, too.

Her mom emerged from the white farmhouse and descended the creaky steps with grace and speed, big black purse over one shoulder and a plastic sack of various things she had forgotten in her other hand. She wore big, rhinestone-studded sunglasses, a cream blouse, flowing black pants, and black designer boots. Her appearance, her dramatic exit of the house, her lack of any backward glance, the pristine black SUV that she was headed for—she didn’t belong here. She had no desire to. It made Katy’s hands ball into fists. "We’ll call when we get there," her mom told her dad as she flung her things into the passenger seat without even meeting his eyes. "Katy, are you ready?"

"In a minute," Katy said, then turned to look at her dad. He was leaning against the back corner of the truck in jeans and a red flannel shirt with the sleeves pushed up. This picture belonged in a dictionary next to the word "Farmer."

When he spoke, his voice was rough. "You take care of yourself, Katy Belle." She nodded and knew that she should say something, but knew that her voice would betray her secret tears. But suddenly, her feminine side won over for a moment just long enough for her to run to her dad. His body absorbed the impact and caught her in his arms as she hid her face in his shirt, breathing in his scent of sweat and straw. She never wanted to leave this place.

He kissed the top of her head and pushed away, scooping her white cowboy hat off of the back of the truck and dropping it on her head. He cupped her chin it two callused fingers and lifted her gaze to meet his. "And don’t you ever forget who you are."

"Katy," her mom called, firing up the SUV. "Time to go."

It was a very subtle exhale and drop of his gaze, but Katy caught her father’s frustration, and related. "You’d better go," he said. Katy nodded and a tear spilled from her eye. Her dad quickly dried it with a quick stroke of his thumb. None of that, now. Be a man about it." She smiled. "I love you."

Instead of answering, she just nodded again, straightened out her hat, and adjusted her posture so that she was standing a little taller, her shoulders thrown back. She turned, flinging her braid and feeling it thump o her spine, and swung her tips with her stride. Joey gad the truck door open for her, so she didn’t have to break her step to swing herself up behind the wheel. Joey shut the door. "Don’t crash and die," he said, stepping back.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and then smiled. "Don’t kill the tractor while I’m not here to fix it for you." His argument was lost in the sound of the truck turning over and the radio blaring. Katy shifted into drive and followed the SUV down the long gravel drive, watching her home in the rear view mirror.