Cornfield Confessions Chapter 2

Many hands make light work. Soon, a small portion of the field was cleared.

Checking the sun, I invited them home for lunch.

I took out my phone and realized Grandma hadn't replied to my text.

But a dozen people were already following me to the house.

The gate wasn't open yet, but the neighbor's gate opened.

"Mia, you're back?"

I paused, looking at the man waving at me. "Brother Sam, you're back too?"

He nodded. "Back to pick corn."

Mark whispered bitchily in my ear. "Brother Sam... sounds like a cheesy romance novel character. Sleazy."

Grandma heard the noise and came out.

"Mia's back? Your grandpa soiled his clothes again, I had to rush back..."

She froze, looking at the crowd.

Grandma pulled me aside. "Why didn't you tell me there were so many people?"

"It's fine. I'll take them to town for noodles."

I turned to tell Mark there was no food at home, but he had already marched inside.

Grandpa was sitting shirtless in the yard, sunbathing. Mark grinned, showing all his teeth.

"Grandpa! Long time no see!"

Grandpa slowly turned his head and smiled at him.

"Second Aunt is here? Did your dad wet the bed again?"

Mark's smile froze. My forehead was covered in black lines. I rushed to drag him away.

"Let's go. Lunch."

Mark followed me. Town was far, so I borrowed Uncle Bill's tractor.

Uncle Bill used to haul pigs in it. It was clean now, but Mark's dog nose could still smell it.

"I'm not sitting in that."

I nodded. "Then don't eat."

Mark glared at me angrily. "Mia, is this the attitude of someone begging to get back together?"

"You use me every year and then show your true colors. The corn isn't even halfway done and you're giving me attitude? You don't want to get back together?"

He climbed onto the tractor as he spoke, sitting next to me. "Shotgun!"

He looked smug as his bodyguards climbed on.

I started the engine, chugging forward.

What shotgun? The front of the tractor didn't even have seatbelts; it was a bench seat.

As many butts as could fit, that's how many shotguns there were.

The noodle shop in town was instantly packed by us. The owner looked terrified, face pale.

Probably thought we were there to smash the place.

Mark picked out the green onions with disgust and asked me, "When are you going back to the city?"

I stirred my noodles. "Not going back for now."

Mark froze, putting down his chopsticks. "What do you mean?"

I slurped a noodle. "What else? City life is tough, I'm coming back to the village."

"I didn't call you to get back together. I wanted to ask if I could borrow your bodyguards to pick corn. You know how it is."

I sighed. "Here, we bury our dead in our own fields. The cornfield you stepped on today? My parents and ancestors are under there."

A bodyguard nearby sneezed and started eating faster.

Mark stared at me.

"Grandpa and Grandma can't let go of the land, and I can't let go of them. Someone has to do the work."

"I tried hiring locals, but they ignored me. Said I went crazy working in the city, hiring people for such a small plot."

I pouted. "I'll pay market rate. You don't have to come every year. I'll cover their travel and board."

Screech—

The chair scraped loudly against the floor. Mark's chest heaved, his cheeks puffing in and out.

"Pick your own damn corn, idiot!"

Watching Mark stomp away angrily, I didn't bother chasing him.

The bodyguards looked at each other, unsure whether to leave.

I finished my noodles and walked out with the anxious bodyguards.

Seeing their young master sitting on the tractor, the bodyguards collectively sighed in relief.

Mark sat in his "shotgun" seat, turning his head away from me.