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CHAPTER ONE

Giada

“Do you think this will work?” My younger sister, Gina, asked, her eyes wide under her clear glasses.

“It won't hurt to try, right?” I clicked publish and sent the cry for help out into the world. Here went nothing.

“Any help is better than no help,” Georgie, my older brother, mused. He ruffled Giselle’s hair, our youngest sibling of the bunch, and she rolled her eyes.

“Don't touch my hair, Georgie!” Giselle pouted. She had turned fourteen this past month and gone was the little girl my older brother still saw her as

Coming from a big family had its perks like always having someone to help you through something or someone to talk you out of a crazy plan but it especially helped when your family owned a farm. We needed all the help we could get and right now we needed a lot.

“I'm worried we're having a storm so early in the season. I'm telling you kids, global warming is getting worse.” My father mused from his rocking chair. All of us were gathered in the living room as we tried to brainstorm solutions. A big storm was on the horizon bringing with it snow and our first frost of the season. But that didn't bode well for all of our pumpkins. We needed them harvested before the storm hit and while there were six of us, it wasn't enough.

“Not much we can do, George.” My mother commented. “As least we have kids who know how to use book face or whatever it's called.”

“Facebook, Ma.” I chuckled. Oh to have boomer parents.

“I can't believe you just called it that,” Georgie quipped.

“Wow we already have comments!” Gina clapped. “People want to help.”

“Great! Maybe we won't lose crops after all.” Dad said as he stood up from his chair. “I need to gather some equipment. Maybe the local store will donate some we can borrow.”

I read the comments over Gina's shoulder. There's so many I can barely keep up. “Who would've thought so many people would want to help?”

“I know. Maybe there is some hope for humanity after all.” Gina smirked.

As my family dispersed from the living room, Georgie leaving to help dad out, and my mom and Giselle headed to the kitchen to make applesauce, I followed my sister, Gina, outside to the apple orchard. The trees overflowed with apples, and we needed to grab as many as we could. There was always something to do on the farm.

“I wouldn't mind checking out some eye candy. Muscles and pumpkins. Sounds like a good Saturday to me.” Gina grinned. She was always boy crazy and when we were teenagers, we'd sneak out at night, finding ourselves in all sorts of trouble, but having an older brother got us out of a lot of shit. And our baby sister keeping our parents busy at home. Gina was my best friend, my go to for everything. I couldn't wait until we raised our own children together.

“Seriously, we're only getting older, G. And no boyfriends yet.”

“Ugh don't remind me. Besides you're closer to thirty than me.” She smirked and stuck out her tongue. I tossed an apple at her feet, and she jumped out of the way with a yelp.

“Georgie is the closest, not me. I've still got four years. He only has two.” I put my full basket on the wagon and grabbed an empty one.

“And I've got seven.”

“I'm going to hit you with an Apple again.”

We laughed and joked as we filled our baskets with apples. For the longest time, I thought Gina would remain the baby of the family, but when Giselle came, a big surprise though my parents never admitted it, it changed things. She got doted on while Gina and I rebelled. I wouldn't change a thing.

“Guys there are over a hundred comments now!” Giselle ran over to us, her face lit up. “Mom said she'll make her pumpkin cookies tonight to celebrate.”

Gina and I exchanged looks. We had some fun with those cookies. Too much fun.

The morning of the great big pumpkin harvest, I overslept as usual, the last one to hurry downstairs for breakfast. The harvest was due to start at nine and at eight forty-five people were already lined up at the gate.

My parents eagerly greeted them as they marched in while my siblings and I watched from the sidelines. People of all types showed up from young to old, some with tools and some without.

As I turned towards my parents who now walked this way, Gina grabbed my arm and squeezed tight.

“Ouch, biatch. Why so tight?”

“Look.” She nodded in the direction of our father, and I shot her a funny look. “What? It's dad what are you even talking about?”