The next day and that evening's Raw has passed rather uneventful for the girls.
Mark was given a couple of days off afterwards. Once Mark had finished his segments, they caught a red eye from Chicago back home to Houston. It seemed Sara was already asleep, so they dragged their luggage upstairs to get some rest.
The girls happily snuggled into their familiar beds. As fun as it was traveling and getting to see the world, neither if them could deny the softness of their pillows or the feel of their favorite comforter wrapped around them.
Mark felt the same way, but to a greater extent. Life on the road was by no means easy. He made a great deal of sacrifices to do what he did. His body suffered, his kids suffered and sometimes, his marriage even suffered. He thought about this as he changed into a pair of gym shorts to go to sleep.
He looked at his sleeping wife, Sara, her blonde hair framed out around her. He couldn't blame her for not being in a good mood a lot if the time. They sometimes argued a lot more than he would like, but the burden of raising four kids practically on her own got to her a lot. Still, that is why Mark did what he did, so money would never be an issue again and they could focus on the kids.
As he crawled into bed, he kissed his wife. She turned towards him, nuzzling close. "I'm glad you're home," she mumbled groggily.
The Raw after party was in full swing. Though it was more like Bingo night at the senior center compared to the old WWF days or their time in WCW. Hogan, Hall and Nash had hit a local bar and were greeted by some of their colleagues.
Where was everyone's party? Damn, they need Kid and Shawn. They remembered when Mark would bring out tray after tray of Jack. Nash smiled, despite the fact that just thinking of the smell made want to puke.
"Hey fellas," they were greeted by Steve Williams, known to the wrestling world as Stone Cold Steve Austin. Over the next coming weeks, they were going to be working with Steve a lot. As the nWo poison, they were setting their sights to take down the biggest stars in WWE. They had already " taken care of" The Rock earlier in the night.
In real life though, Steve was one of Nash's closest friends and they were happy to catch up. The group of men spent the next few hours shooting the shit and drinking until they couldn't see straight.
"Mom, you're being so unreasonable," Reves moaned.
Sara put down the large knife she was using to chop lettuce for the salad that would go with dinner. "Don't you think you spend enough time away from home?" she asked with a sigh.
"But Dad never let's us do anything!"
Sara looked at her daughter, shaking her head. She wanted to go out to a movie. Was it so much to ask for a little family time? Even with four kids and a husband, Sara often felt lonely. He husband was always on the road, but now that her daughters had been traveling with him for the last month or so the house got emptier, quieter. She even sometimes missed the squabbling of the boys verses the girls. Her son's spent much of their time at the shop, or with their girlfriends. She knew they were probably baring a grudge that the girls were the one that got to go on the road, see the sights and hang out with the wrestlers. Mark had charged them with looking after the shop while he was gone. He even bought them a '67 Mustang as a fixer-up project they worked on when he was home. That is where the three of them were now.
"You know," Sara said, exhaling sharply, " why don't you go ride those horses your dad has spent so much money on? I think he should get rid of them, really. You two never ride them. And as it is, you don't take any responsibility to them while you are here."
Heather, who had been quiet as a church mouse the whole time, steadily shifted her eyes to her mother as she stood helping to dice tomatoes.
"I've had to start paying the Bedson boy to help with some of the chores around the ranch, since everyone seems to want to disappear on me," Sara added.
Reves rolled her eyes. "So what, you want us to go ride the freakin' horses?"
"I didn't tell you I wanted you to do anything," Sara replied, not looking at her.
Reves scoffed hopping off the bar stool which she was sitting upon. " C'mon, Heather," she said, grabbing at her sister's hand.
Heather put down the knife and wiped her hands on a towel. " You sure you Don't need help?" she offered.
Her mother shook her head. " No. Go on." She took the cutting board from her daughter and added the tomatoes to the bowl with the rest of the salad ingredients.
She put the bowl in the refrigerator and sighed. She was worried about the kids. It had been a rough few months, especially for the girls. Still, the boys didn't have it any easier. They felt neglected, she knew that for a fact.
The girls changed into a pair of old jeans, a tank top and riding boots that had been sitting in their closets, collecting dust. They pulled their long tendrils into high ponytail and headed down to the stables.
The stables housed the girls stallions and a few other animals. Heather owned a chestnut Andalusian, while Reves's was a gray. The girls were quite young when they begged Daddy for a pony. What little girl didn't want one? To their present chagrin the animals were named after Disney equestrians as the sister were avid fan. Phillippe belonged to Heather as Pegasus was Reves's.
As Reves approached the pen, Pegasus snorted and reared back, kicking.
" Calm down, you beast," Reves said gruffly.
" Ahhh. It's alright. Shhh," Heather coaxed the horse softly patting its body and petting its nose. "Don't mind Rev. She's just being a Grimy Gus. I think he's mad at you," she said, turning towards her sister.
"Well, he can get glad on the same horseshoes he got mad on," Reves stated, grabbing a bridal.
Reves saddled up Pegasus rather quickly and mounted the stallion.
Off in the distance they could hear a low rumbling as it came closer. Reves squinted her eyes to make out the approaching figure. A grin started to tug at her lips. "Swoon, here comes your boyfriend," she said imitating Tie Frasier from the Clueless film.
Heather turned to see an ATV making its way closer to the stables. She sighed in heavy exasperation, "Heck." With much strain she grabbed the saddle for Phillippe. Her sister watch her from atop the horse's back, smirking slightly. "Rev, are you just going to leave me here? Come on, help me!" Heather pleaded with her sister in desperation as she struggled to lift the saddle onto the animal's back.
Reves batted her eyelashes with a devil may care expression. "What are sister's for?" she mused, shrugging her shoulders. Then she snapped the reigns and Pegasus flew out of the stables as if he truly had wings.
" Well thanks," Heather said between gritted teeth as she tried to force the saddle upwards with a grunt.
She could hear the rumbling of the four-wheeler moving closer still. The noise was buzzing in her skull.
Her arms gave way and she lost her grip on the saddle. It slid down the horse's torso and landed with a heavy thud across her toes. She let out a groan of pain, dropping her head against Phillippe's body.
She hadn't notice that the rumbling had stopped until she heard the boy speak in his thick Texan accent, "Howdy, Heather."
" Hello, Brandon," she muttered, head still bent
Without another word, he picked the saddle up from her feet and began to fasten it to Phillippe.
Brandon Bedson was a seventeen year old of a muscular build and a deep tan from working on both the Calaway and his family's ranch. He was also captain of the football team at school. He stood at five foot eleven inches with deep blue eyes and sandy blonde hair. As in popular guy fashion, he quite good looking.
Brandon stood on the other side of Phillippe, bucking the strap under the horse's belly. He tested to make sure it was secure. When he was finished, he paused, staring into her .
Heather met his gaze only briefly, quickly averting her head towards the ground. She cleared her throat. "Uh, thanks," she mumbled.
" No problem," his voice had that twang to it. He came around Phillippe, stopping right beside her
She let him assist her in mounting the equestrian and set off.
"So how's it been going?" Brandon asked as they crossed the field on the back of the property.
"It's okay," she replied.
" You thinking of coming back to school soon?"
"Oh, I don't think so. Nor right now." Her heartbeat quickened and her stomach clenched into a knot. She did not want to think about what had happened at school.
"Well, the Sadie Hawkins dance is coming up next month in March. Seven girls have already asked me out, but I turned 'em all down. Hoping maybe, even if you don't come back to school, you'd go with me."
Please. Stop. Just stop. Her brain screamed at him. Yes, she could just envision it. Her, the freak, the date of Mr. Wonderful mingling with all the jocks, cheerleaders and popular kids. Listening to their superficial and transparent conversations over who has going to nail who, what girl is too fat for her dress, how hideous that one's makeup looks. All this, while trying to mimic their narcissistic behavior. She wagered she would likely end up drenched in pigs blood like Carrie by the night's conclusion.
Philippe trotted along at an even pace, though he seemed rather disturbed by the quad rolling along besides him. He jerked and whinnied.
The feeling is mutual, boy, Heather thought to herself. She wished she could gallop away on the stead, leaving Prince Charming alone with his unrequited affections.
"When is this taking place?" she finally questioned. No way in Hell was she even remotely considering going to some teenage pre-mating ritual with him. She merely didn't want to appear rude.
"March 16th. That's Saturday," he replied.
She frowned "Oh yeah. That's Wrestlemania weekend." She feigned disappointment to mask the relief from registering on her continence.
Brandon's face fell. "Guess you can't blame a guy for trying."
Heather smiled apprehensive. "Yeah." She hated that she felt guilty even thought she held zero desire to go with him.
Off in the distance, she heard her mother calling to her from the back patio. "Girls, dinner's almost ready. Come on in," she called, waving her hand over her head.
As they began heading back, Heather uttered a silent prayer of thanks.
When they reached the stables, Brandon hopped from the quad and right Phillippe's reigns to the post and lifted his arms to help Heather down.
Heather swung her right leg over as the other slipped from the stirrup. With a gasp she felt herself sliding towards the ground.
As if predicting her mishap, Brandon was there to catch her. She fell into his arms, bracing herself against his broad shoulders. She could feel his muscular arms clenched around her. She was at eye level with him and couldn't avoid locking eyes with him for a few agonizing moments.
Brandon eased her the rest of the way down. "You okay?"
Her face burning, she immediately averted her eyes. "Yeah. Thanks." After a moment of silence, she told him, " Better get back," as she hurried from the stables.
For a moment, Brandon watched her go. Damn, she has a great ass, he thought to himself. He taunt body pressed again him was about all he could take. It was so damn frustrating that the one girl he wanted more than anyone else wouldn't give him wouldn't give him the time of day while all these other bitches were falling all over themselves just to get a glance in their direction. There had to be some way to wear her down. For now, he will away the erection that had sprung up in his jeans and followed after her.
Heather made her way to the deck with Brandon in tow. Without being instructed, she entered the kitchen to pull out the salad and rolls for dinner.
" Hey, Brandon. How's it going?" Sara smiled at him.
"Can't complain, Mrs. Calaway, thanks. And yourself?" Brandon replied respectfully.
"Pretty good. Your parents still at that conference in Phoenix?"
"Yes, ma'am. Should be home on Thursday."
Sara nodded. "You wanna stay for dinner?" she asked.
"Well. Uh," he eyed the cuts of meat she was removing from the grill. "That ribeye, ma'am?" he asked sheepishly.
"Yep. It is."
"You're too kind, ma'am."
"You're welcome. And Brandon," she paused, narrowing her eyes at him, "You can call me Sara. I'm not that old."
"Right. Sorry, Miss Sara," he replied unsure.
"Good enough," she sighed shaking her head.
Midway through Reves had approached catching the tail end of the conversation.
When Heather returned the fist thing her eyes fell upon was her sister's face, twisted in disdain.
Brandon reach forward to take the bowls from Heather. Releasing them, she looked past him, to her sister in bewilderment.
Reves pointed at Brandon then gestures to the dinning table with a sneer on her face.
Heather's face fell. He was probably one of the last people she had wanted to see hate her family's dinner table, now he was going to sit down and break bread with them? What was this, the Divine Comedy? She questioned as she slumped down into her seat.
Just then, Mark and the twins had come up. They had been at the shop, working on the Mustang.
"Ugh, I'm starving!" Steven exclaimed, grabbing a roll with a still greasy hand.
"Ew! Go was your hands, you filthy pig!" Reves barked in disgust.
"Well, if I'm a pig, then you're the cow in the pen next to me," Steven shot back, a piece of masticated bread flying from his mouth.
Mark gently popped him in the back of the head. "Quit actin' like a damn animal," he commanded. "And don't talk to your sister like that in front of company.
"Hey," Steven said, rubbing the back of his head as his other half laughed at him.
Mark ignored them and turned to his oldest daughter. "You watch your mouth too, young lady.
"Everyone go and was your hands," Sara announced. "Come on, guys. This isn't kindergarten."
Heather pushed the food around on her plate, half-heartedly listening to the conversation Brandon was having with her parents and brothers. Her brothers were also on the football team at school, thought they were not particularly close to Brandon. She crinkled her nose at the bloody juice that seeped from the meat flank as she cut into it with her knife. She wasn't one for a large quantity of red meat. She was, by no means, a vegetarian, but was it a crime to not have it still mooing? She didn't speak on it however. She didn't want her parents to have the inclination that she was ungrateful.
Brandon was sitting beside her on the left. His proximity was too close for comfort, but she did her best to neglect his presence, a task which proved to be rather difficult as he continued turning towards her, eyes trained on her face.
Reves's fork hit the plate with a clang and she stood abruptly. "May I be excused?" she asked impatiently.
"Me too," Heather followed as she began to slowly rise.
"He'll no," Mark growled. "This is family. You don't always need to be running off."
Heather shot back into the chair with a frown. She bent her head, staring at the plate as she felt Brandon studying her again.
Reves made an obviously disgruntled display of falling back into her chair. Her ocean blue eyes reflected her fowl disposition.
Reves cut her eyes towards Brandon. She couldn't sit here and listen to this lying cad anymore.
"So, Heather, I hope maybe you will reconsider what we talked about earlier," Brandon said to the raven haired girl. He returned the glare at Reves, then directed himself back to Heather.
Heather gazed upwards, her eyes moving around the table. She was wringing her hands in her lap. What gall to bring this up in front of her parents? Her face became as deep crimson and she cursed herself for the lack of control over her visage.
"And just what type of conversation did you have?" Mark's voice was even, but his eyes narrowed.
Brandon glanced at him humbly. "Well sir, the Sadie Hawkins dance is coming up in March. I thought maybe she would like to go with me." He swallowed nervously.
"Isn't that the one where the girl asks out the guy?" Sara questioned before taking a sip of her drink.
"Yes," Reves interjected. "And wow. Stupid. Why ask her if the role is reversed? If she wanted to go with you, she would have said so," Reves stated bluntly.
"Reves Ann Calaway!" Sara scolded.
"Just saying…"
"That's Wrestlmania weekend," Heather finally spoke up, giving furtive glanced at Brandon and both her parents on turn. "I, I was looking forward to the show," she mumbled and he voice was plodding to her parents.
"I'm sorry, Brandon. She had been looking forward to this," Sara offered apologetically.
Mark looked relieved. The Bedson boy was alright. He was hardworking and respectful, but Mark didn't like the idea of anyone one trying to make a move on his little girl. He knew it was bound to happen as beautiful as she was, but he prayed it would be later instead of sooner. Still, he trusted that she was smart enough not to get tangle up in some big mess.
Brandon's eyes flashed. He didn't like being humiliated in front of her parents. He wanted to ask he to a movie, but he knew she would reject that too. To add insult to injury, her old man was a hardass. That kept her on a tight leash.
Brandon cleared his throat. "Well, it was awfully nice if ya to offer me dinner. Allow me to help clean up a bit," he said standing with his plate in hand and took Heather's plate as well.
"You don't have to do that, Brandon," Sara said.
"Y'all fed me. With all due respect, yeah, I do ma'am- I mean Miss Sara.
Sara nodded. "That's kind of you."
Reves rose from the table and started to walk off.
"Excuse me," Mark's bass voice rang out.
Reves stopped and turned, "Yes?" She forced the syrupy, sweet tone to her voice.
"Did you eat food at this table?"
The blonde teenager merely stared at him.
"I believe I asked you a question. Did you eat food at this table?" His voice was gruff.
She nodded in response.
"Then you better get the he'll over here and help clean up this mess," he demanded. His emerald eyes flashed at her.
She gave a seething glance at Brandon, then her sister, who was already obediently gathering dishes and silverware.
Heather rushed into the kitchen and Brandon followed suite. She placed the dishes in the sink and turned around to find her self cornered. A cold shiver ran down her spine.
She we rescued by the appearance of her sister. "You going to wash the dishes too? Maybe take a show? Stay the night?" Reves sneered.
Before he could respond, the rest of the clan was I tow. "Well, Mr. and Mrs. Calaway, I best be heading out. Thanks again for dinner. Best steak I had in a long time. My old man makes it too dry." he said with a grin.
"Yer welcome, son. We'll be seein' you," Mark replied, shaking his hand.
Heather was relieved when he finally left. Her lungs ached like she was holding in a breath fire the duration of his visit. She did not understand his so-called infatuation. They did not exactly run in the same social circle. She wondered if he realized she couldn't stand the thought of associating herself with him after what his sister and her lemmings had done. At least the would set out on the road once again after tomorrow, she thought as she was loading the dishes into the dishwasher.
