In the Moment

Chapter 1

Everything was the same.

The same house.

The same family.

The same boring, sheltered existence where nothing exciting ever happened. Everything about her life was predictable as if she were following a script, one that included a safe, comfortable, stable life, an existence that did nothing to fill her with excitement and anticipation of what her future could be.

Her parents, Brad and Emily Friessen, were amazing, full of love and laughter, with a closeness even her friends were envious of, and they lived the kind of life everyone seemed to want—everyone, that was, except Becky. However, in all honesty, she wouldn't trade her family for anything, a family filled with laughter, closeness, and questions about as familiar as the pull of breath every time she walked through the door after school. "How was your day?" they would always say before asking her to keep an eye on her little brother, Jack. Then there was Trevor, her older brother with autism, who would never have a life of his own.

The steps creaked on the porch as she stepped up. She pulled open the squeaky screen and then the inside door, which had been painted the same white as long as she could remember. She expected her mom to come around the corner, since Becky was home directly after school instead of working a shift at the grocery store, her part-time job, which filled her smart car with gas and gave her a modicum of freedom. Her backpack, which was filled with her schoolwork, binders, and basically her entire locker from her second time around senior year at high school, was still looped over her shoulder.

Yup, she'd actually been short two courses to graduate the previous year with the credits she would need to start her next adventure, college—all because the robotics course she'd once been excited about had only shown her she was never meant to be an engineer, so now instead of being on her way to college, she was stuck at home, working part time in a dead-end job, taking more courses that would finally bring her closer to her dreams. Only therein lay the problem she hadn't spent a lot of time considering: Becky didn't have a clue what that dream job could be. Instead, she kept seeing this same predictable life that would bore her to tears.

She did know it wouldn't be anything to do with the ranch, anything way out in the country where her closest neighbor was a mile away. She wanted people around, action, aliveness, excitement, but instead of sharing any of that with her mom, her dad, or anyone in her family, she kept it to herself.

Her sneakers squeaked on the pristine hardwood floor as she took another step, holding her backpack strap. She realized as she strode into the house she'd grown up in that she didn't hear the familiar clatter from the kitchen that said her mom was cooking dinner, or Jack, her six-year-old little brother, who was always chattering, running, playing. She expected him to come running as he always did and slam into her, all smiles, his way of saying he was happy to see his big sister. She often wished he'd dial it back a bit and finally get that she wasn't unbreakable.

It was unusually quiet.

"She's here now." She heard her dad's voice, and the floor squeaked as he stepped out of the kitchen, giving her a pointed look, the phone to his ear. It was in that second that she knew he was talking about her to whomever he was speaking with. "Thanks again for letting me know."

Then he disconnected the phone and stepped into the living room, where he rested it on the side table. Had she done something? She wracked her brain, trying to figure it out. Again, her dad said nothing, and she took in his dark blue shirt and the faint white lines that weaved a pattern through the cotton. His sleeves were rolled up, and she could see a line of mud on his forearm as if he'd just come in from someplace on the ranch and hadn't had a chance to wash up. His thick dark hair was wavy and in need of a cut, and the gray threading its way through was taking over the color more and more.