Angered Seasons: The Worst Birthday Ever (Volume One)

Part One

Mireille Chester

Copyright © 2012 by Mireille Chester

Published by Mireille Chester

Smashwords Edition

This book is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any way, shape, or form without the express written
permission of the author. For more information, please visit
http://mireillechester.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

Prologue

My arm hurts. Seriously. It hurts a lot. Or
maybe the best way to describe it is burn. It burns. I reach down
without thinking about it, trying to pull the edge of the bandage
down so it completely covers the gash in my forearm. The pain is
like a paper cut; but like I’d slid the entire five hundred sheets
of paper in the pack across my arm. Being thrown into a power pole
and sliding down one of the thick metal wires that helped keep it
straight could do that to a girl. It’s a miracle I hadn’t broken
anything. Now that the excitement is finally at an end, it occurs
to me that I’d kill for a tube of Polysporin right now. My arm
isn’t infected; I make sure to clean it a few times a day, but
there’s that one kind, the kids’ one, that has a pain killer in it.
It would have been nice to just take the edge off.

I look around the living room of the little
house we’d been living in. The whole place is cute. Cozy. Whoever
had lived here had taken care of the place. Of course, now, it’s
covered in a layer of dust, the windows are all broken, and some of
the furniture has been destroyed. There’s no more power, well, no
more anything anymore, really. No phones, no radios, no computers.
No cash machines, no jobs, well, you get the point.

There’s a groan from the lump under the sheet
on the couch and I make my way over to it. The dark blue sheet
slips to reveal a mess of blond hair falling over a pale face. I
frown. Max is usually a shade lighter than everyone else, but this
is extreme even for him. It was one of the reasons I’d thought him
to be about fourteen the first time I’d seen him. It makes him look
younger than his nineteen years. I press my lips to his forehead to
check for a fever and brush his hair back with a sigh of relief
when I can’t feel any.

A glint of sunlight on something metallic
catches my eye through one of the shattered windows and I go to
stand on the front porch. The first thing I see is a German
Shepherd loping towards me. I recognize the tattered white t-shirt
and bloodied jeans as they ride over the next hill on a little bay
mare. I know that as he gets closer I’ll be able to see the swollen
left eye, the cut on his left leg. I lean against one of the
railings, ignoring the protesting my stiff and sore muscles are
doing, and watch with a small smile.

It feels good to smile. The past year hasn’t
given us many reasons to do so.

Lane slides out of the saddle and sits beside
me on the steps while Bella drops her head to graze.

“It’s warm, but it’s still beer.” He grins
and hands me a can of Canadian.

“Where the hell did you manage to find
these?” I tap the top with my fingernail to get rid of any fizz
that might have occurred do to traveling on horseback. I am not
wasting one drop of this beer. Both of our cans crack open with a
satisfying ‘pshh’.

His grin widens. “Just drink the beer.”

I take a long swallow and I know he’s
watching me because it’s what he’s done since we were five. The
beer is hot and bitter because of it, but I don’t care. I down half
the can and sigh.

Lane tucks some unruly red hair behind my ear
and turns my face gently so he can press his lips to my forehead.
He pulls back and smiles softly.

“Happy birthday.”

I blink. A year. I have to admit that I was
just reaching for a ball park figure when I told you the past year
had been rough. God, who am I kidding? You’ve probably figured out
that rough doesn’t come close to covering it. It’s hard to keep
track of time since the seasons don’t exist anymore. It’s supposed
to be winter right now. Winter in Canada means freezing
temperatures and snow, yet I’m walking around in capris and a tank
top. I honestly have no idea what day, let alone what month it is.
But Lane knows. Today is January fifteenth. Last January fifteenth,
I turned thirty-two and life as me and the rest of the world’s
population knew it went to shit. Complete shit.

I lean against Lane and he wraps one of those
strong arms around me, careful of the gash on mine. Maybe I’d
better start at the beginning. You’re probably wondering what the
hell happened, who I am, where I am, and all that jazz. Sorry. I’ve
never been great at introductions.

My name is Gabrielle Gauthier, though most
people call me Gabby, and this is my story…

The Worst Birthday… Ever

“What do you think? The black one or the
green one.” I walked out of my bedroom holding up two dresses. The
black one, a silk ankle length with a v-neck; the dark green one, a
knee high that cut up at an angle and did the one shoulder thing up
top. I rotated them, first holding the black one then the green one
in front of me. I stopped when it became obvious that Lane wasn’t
looking.

“Lane!”

He glanced up from his book and looked as I
showed him the dresses one more time. He cocked his head to the
side as he thought it over. “Green.”

“You’re sure?”

He nodded. “Only if you’re not wearing that
bra.”

I looked down at black bikini panties and
matching bra and I realized he was talking about the fact that I
needed a strapless to go under the dress.

“I’m going to get the black strapless.”

He nodded again and went back to his book. I
walked past him, this time in the proper bra, to the kitchen where
I pulled a beer out of the fridge.

“Do you want one?” I peeked over the counter
to see him nod. “Canadian or Pil?”

“Canadian.”

I popped the cap off of both bottles before
putting his on the end table by his head. I plopped down on the
loveseat across from him and took a long swallow of my beer while I
waited for my hair to dry around the curlers.

“What are you reading now?”

“Under the Skin by Michel Faber.” He glanced
at me before sitting up to drink his beer. He carefully put the
bookmark to hold his place and set the book down on the coffee
table. I’d borrowed a book and made the mistake of bending a page
to hold my place once years ago. He’d had a conniption. Lane loved
his books and took very good care of them. “It’s about aliens that
come to earth and harvest humans for meat.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Gross.” I decided to
change the topic. “So what are you going to wear tonight?”

He shrugged, went to his room and came out
holding a light blue button up shirt and a red one much in the same
fashion as I had with the dresses.

“Well, you can’t wear red. We’ll look like
Christmas.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Since we’re not
dating, I wouldn’t think it mattered if we clashed.” He went back
into the room and reappeared wearing the light blue one, tucking it
into his black jeans as he made his way back to the living room.
And just like that, he was ready.

“You might want to phone Brian and make sure
he’s not wearing red. God forbid you look like Christmas in
January.” He chuckled and took a sip of his beer before picking up
his book which he had to set down again as his cell phone beeped at
him. He picked it up, smiled, and sent a text message.

“Who was that?”

“Michelle. She’ll be a few minutes late, but
she’ll meet us there.”

I tried to keep the frown off of my face, but
he noticed.

“Gabby, we’ve been through this. I like
her.”

“The woman slapped me across the face in my
own home.”

“You took her by surprise!” His dark blue
eyes met mine and he ran a hand through his dark brown hair. His
jaw clenched like I knew it did when he got upset. It never failed.
“We were on the couch watching a movie and you came waltzing out of
the bedroom wearing a bra and your underwear!”

“I always walk around in my bra and my
underwear when I get ready to go out.”

“I know! And after I explained that nothing
was going on with us, she calmed down.”

I blew out of my nose in frustration. Of all
the women he could have chosen to date. “She doesn’t like me. I try
to be nice, I swear.”

His jaw loosened and his mouth curled at the
corners. He had a great smile which was one of the reasons women
fell left and right for him. The dark blue eyes were also
phenomenal. Other than his mom, I’d never seen that color on anyone
else. Add the dark brown hair, permanently tanned skin no matter
which season it was, and the strong but not over-muscled build and
even I had to admit the man was gorgeous. Of course, that was from
a woman’s point of view. From my point of view, he was Lane.
Annoying, nerdy, my best friend since we’d been five, Lane. I
always thought it funny that even though he had more than enough
women interested, he’d only had five or six girlfriends and none of
the relationships had lasted more than six months. Of course, I
couldn’t talk; I barely dated.

“I know you’re trying and I love you for it.”
He walked over and kissed my forehead. “It’s not your fault you’re
beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes. “If that’s why she hates
me, you should just break up with her. You deserve someone with a
bit more maturity than that. How old is she again?”

“Twenty-two.”

“See. My point exactly. You need someone at
least our age.”

He grunted. “It wouldn’t matter if she was
twenty-two, thirty, or fifty… the instant you come walking out of
your bedroom in just your underwear, any woman is bound to do a
double take.”

“She knew we lived together.”

He opened his mouth and closed it before
taking another drink of his beer. “Did you pick up the extra
drywall we’ll need Monday?”

I decided to go with his change of subject
and nodded. “It’s at the shop. They were going to deliver it to the
house, but I didn’t like the idea of it being there all weekend.
That guy’s kids are crazy.”

Lane grinned. “That, they are.”

“I was thinking that after this job is done
we’d take a couple weeks and do something.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s go skiing. We haven’t gone this year
yet. I could phone tomorrow and book us a hotel. How about
Jasper?”

He nodded. “Sure. The MacKenzie fellow said
he didn’t want us to start on his basement until the middle of
February and Jason’s crew can handle the Granger remodel.”

“We’ll put Max and Pete on office duty and
they can take care of pickups and deliveries for the other guys. I
know Pete can’t afford two weeks without pay with that brand new
baby.” I smiled. “Man, she is so cute. Did you see how he lit up
when Marie brought her in to see him the other day?”

Lane smiled though I noticed it slipped as
his eyes ran over me. He’d sure been moody lately.

“Go finish getting ready and I’ll feed
Iggy.”

The iguana didn’t raise his head at the sound
of his name. Iguanas don’t do much.

I went to stand in front of my mirror and
pulled the curlers out of my hair. My red hair fell to my shoulder
blades in thick curls. I fluffed it up and added a bit of
hairspray.

“Let’s go, Freckles… we’re going to be late!”
I heard him head outside to start the truck.

I smirked at Lane’s nickname. He’d teased me
about my freckles in typical five year old boy fashion the first
day he’d met me. I wasn’t completely covered in them, which was a
bonus, but I did have a healthy sprinkling of them on my cheeks.
I’d given up trying to cover them up years ago. My makeup was
limited to a bit of eyeliner and mascara. The green dress slipped
over my decent curves like a cool wave and I tugged at it to make
it sit where it should. I pulled out a pair of black soft leather
boots with a two inch heel to finish off the outfit and gazed at
the complete picture.

I had to admit I looked good. I wasn’t drop
dead gorgeous or super model tall and skinny, but working in
construction kept me toned and in shape and I didn’t mind my
average height.

Lane walked into the room and smiled. “You
look great for such an old woman.”