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~ Chapter 1: The News ~

Ruth rubbed her eyes wearily as she began to awaken to the bright Wisconsin sunrays that pierced her eyelids. The long awaited summertime was finally here and she was going to enjoy it.

Ruth swung her feet over the side of the bed and tossed aside the covers. She was surprised to hear a knock on her bedroom door. It was probably her father; his timing was impeccable. “Come in,” she called.

The door opened to reveal whom she expected; he entered hesitantly after he flicked her bedroom light on. His deep periwinkle eyes focused on her but she knew his mind was elsewhere. He shuffled forward. He paused halfway across the bedroom floor, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly.

Ruth raised an eyebrow, surprised that there was something that could cause her father enough

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consternation to leave him speechless. “Is something wrong, dad?”

“Well…” he took a deep breath, his gaze still concentrated on her. “Well,” he repeated,” I have to tell you something.”

“Well, go ahead and tell me, you know you can tell me anything.” Ruth leaned back slightly, resting deep upon her rump.

“It’s not that I don’t think I can tell you. It’s just that it will greatly affect you and I’m not sure how you will react.” That’s when she noticed the worry in his eyes.

Ruth’s eyebrows tightened slightly. “Dad, we’ve always been able to talk to each other, haven’t we? I can handle whatever bomb you are about to drop on me.” She certainly hoped so anyway.

“Yeah, I know. I just want you to be happy and to live a fulfilling life but I’m afraid this might take a while to adjust to.” He trailed two steps closer.

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Ruth’s mind spun as she tried to think of all the things that affected her that could potentially cause a flip out. “I hope you aren’t going to marry Sandra all of a sudden or something.” Her mind traveled to the nanny/maid who was in her early twenties, more than 15 years younger than him.

He threw his head back in a laugh. Good. He might put mustard on his fries but he hadn’t gone completely off his rocker. “No, nothing like that, but she is not going to be coming with us.”

“Coming with us?” Ruth raised an eyebrow as her body stiffened. Her weight sunk into her palms situated on the edge of her bed. “Coming with us where? Why do I get the feeling this isn’t a vacation?”

A soft, merciful smile slipped unto his face. “To Missouri.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why are we going to Missouri?”

“We’re moving, sweetheart,” his voice was soft and gentle, his eyes pleading.

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Ruth’s head spun for a minute as her thoughts tried to compute the news. They couldn’t be moving there permanently, she was starting high school in the fall and he wouldn’t rip her from her friends, would he? He wouldn’t take her from everything she knew. He wouldn’t take them away from their spacious townhouse in the Milwaukee suburbs for some stinky place in backwater Missouri. She knew him better than that. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t. “For the summer?” she queried hesitantly.

“No, not just for the summer.” He walked the rest of the way to the bed and sat down next to her. “We’re moving permanently.”

Her right eye twitched slightly. “But, why?”

Her dad put his right hand gently over hers and reached his free hand up to tuck some of her charcoal hair behind her ear. “Because I think it would be really good for us. This is kind of what I’ve always wanted, sweetie, and your mom, too.”

“You’ve always wanted to move to Missouri?” She asked incredulously. “Then why have I never

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tling anything but it looks like this may very well happen.”

“How could you not tell me about this earlier?” Ruth bore aqua eyes into him.

“Because I wasn’t sure where we would end up and I didn’t want to upset you needlessly. I wanted to be sure before I said anything.” He leaned away slightly.

She threw her hands up and leaned toward him. “But you just said you aren’t sure! Now you are acting like this is a done deal!” Ruth struggled to keep her nerves under control as she heard her own voice sounding surprisingly shrill.

He frowned and the hand on hers tightened its grasp. She could tell he was grappling for words. She didn’t give him a chance to find them.

“Could you please just go away for a while and let me absorb this on my own?” She couldn’t bear to look at him. A part of her jumped at the chance for an adventure but another part kicked and squealed against being dragged away from America’s Dairyland.

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His frown deepened but he stood up. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind staying here for a while and talking to you. I don’t want you to feel as if you are alone in this.”

“I am alone,” she spat the words out before she could stop herself.

“How can you say that? You’re not alone, I will be going with you,” his tone was wounded. “And so will David,” he added quietly.

“No. You will be taking me there and I’ll just be going with you. You aren’t leaving behind all your friends, and school, and everything you have ever known for someone else’s dream.”

“Honey, I really think you will enjoy the place if you just give it a chance.” He was soft in his words but his brows were drawing together and creating a crease across his forehead.

“I don’t really have an option, do I? This is just going to be thrust upon me whether I like it or not. I may have to be there but I don’t have to give it a chance. I’ll be an adult soon and I won’t have to stay when I turn eighteen,” she flung the words out

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defiantly at him, hoping to drive him away so she could be alone.

Her father’s lips morphed from a frown to a grim line and she could tell he wasn’t going to be persuaded by her childish protests. “You will not be an adult for four years young lady, and until then, I say what goes. This is not a democracy and if you are going to act like a child then no, I won’t let you have a say at all. When you turn eighteen if you still feel that you would rather live here alone so you can have a townhouse in the suburbs then that will be your choice but it won’t be your choice a moment before you are eighteen.”

Ruth narrowed her eyes at her father but she knew the discussion was over. She knew she deserved a scolding. She wasn’t about to risk setting her father off by being mouthier.

Her father stood with a stern set to his jaw in the middle of the room, the light from her ceiling fan gleaming on his dark brown hair. He waited for several long silent moments, daring her to test the waters while his gaze pierced into her. Then he