Crimson Harvest

Her eyes shifted to the house that they were parked in front of. It was the house in which Jillian and her brother, Rich, lived with their mother. Mrs. Devereaux, divorced years ago, worked full-time and was by necessity often gone, generally leaving Jillian and Rich to fend for themselves. But not only was she removed from her daughter’s life by her work; from Heather’s perspective, it seemed that she was a lot more worried about her own comfort and image than in Jillian’s well-being. On the one hand, she had a few rules about how Jillian dressed and how late she could stay out. But on the other, she did practically nothing to enforce them. What she did do, however, was complain. She complained about Jillian, even to Heather in Jillian’s presence.

“Why does Jillian stay out so late?” Or “I tell Jillian she ought to wear decent clothes, but she doesn’t listen to me.” And she would almost always say some variation of “She just doesn’t care about me, even after all I’ve done for her!”

Heather avoided conversations with her as much as possible, never really knowing how to respond to her.

And now, here she was, with her father and mother, about to delve into a conversation with her that would most likely send Mrs. Devereaux into a fit and fury of whining.

She was not disappointed.