Homestead Quotes

“I lucked out with Jimmy. Big time. Finding a man like him is a dream come true in a world like this one. So I’m not going to take it for granted or waste time wishing for even more.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“Hi,” I say groggily. “Hi.” We smile at each other for a minute until I remember that he’s still injured. “How are you feeling?” “Pretty good considerin’. Damn leg hurts like hell, but that’s to be expected. But kind of on a high at the same time.” “You’re on a high?” I giggle a little because his words are so surprising. “Sure am.” He extends a hand, and I lean toward it automatically. He cups my cheek. “You did say you love me, didn’t you?” My cheeks flush hot. Ridiculous but true. “Yes. I said that.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“Listen to me! I seen you tackle one hurdle after another since we got together. You lost everythin’ and you picked yourself right back up. You learned how to do all these tough jobs and do ’em all real good. You took care of me and kept me goin’ and made life worth livin’ for me again. You’ve been brave and sweet and generous and determined and resilient, and you been all that thinkin’ this was just a practical arrangement. Without even knowin’ how much I love you. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, Chloe. You’re gonna be strong enough to do this too.” I”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“All those thoughts are whirling inside my head when Jimmy suddenly jerks to a stop. I stop too, gazing up at him with wide eyes. “I’m real sorry, Chloe,” he bursts out. “Why are you sorry?” “Sorry for actin’ like this. For upsettin’ you so much. The confusion is all my fault.” “No, it’s not.” If I’m sure of anything, it’s that I’m part of the blame for all this too. I’ve always been so scared and insecure. I’ve always felt so helpless. I’m probably too clingy. I’ve tried too hard to be exactly what he wants instead of being real with him. He’s always made it clear he wants me to be real, but I’ve been too scared to do it. “Yeah, it is,” he mutters. “At least most of it is. You’re right about our agreement. You didn’t get it wrong. That’s what I offered you. That’s all I offered. It’s not that I wasn’t hopin’ for more. But it all felt so… so weird. So it was easier to focus on the practical. I’ve never been good at relationships. Mary used to tell me all the time I got to say what I’m thinkin’ instead of always keepin’ it to myself. But I… I’m bad at that. So I assumed you knew. I kept hopin’ you were feelin’ what I was feelin’ so maybe I wouldn’t need to… to really open up.” I stare at him, breathless and excited and shaking again. I don’t exactly know what he’s trying to say, but it’s something. Something important. He’s never talked like this to me before. He clears his throat and drops his eyes the way he always does when he’s uncertain. “At first it was just the arrangement. I mean, I really needed a woman, and you were the prettiest thing I ever saw in my life. So I thought… well, maybe that’ll work.” “I understood that. Not about the pretty thing, but about the rest of it. I was never expecting anything else.” “I know. I see that now. You kept thinkin’ it while I was thinkin’ maybe we were… we were feelin’ more.” I gasp. “You were feeling more?” He shifts from foot to foot. Avoids my eyes for a few seconds before he finally holds my gaze. “Well, yeah. Didn’t you know that?”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“Hey!” The voice isn’t mine. And it isn’t my attacker’s. It’s distant, but I can still tell it sounds rawly outraged. “Get the fuck off her!” The man must process the voice because he grows still, but he doesn’t get off me. He looks surprised more than anything else. Then it’s too late for surprise. Or anything else. I hear a gunshot. A deafening crack. The man goes limp and falls on top of me. I squeal as I feel his full weight collapse on me, the scent of him overwhelming and sickening. I squirm frantically, attempting to push him off. But I’m dizzy from the hard blow on the head and stunned by the fast sequence of events. I can’t get him off. “Chloe!” It’s Jimmy. I recognize his voice now. “Chloe, baby. Oh my fucking God.” Then he’s there. He hauls the man’s limp body off me and tosses it to the side. He crouches down beside me, running his hands up and down my body like he’s looking for injury. “I’m okay,” I manage to whimper. “I’m okay.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“When was your first time?” “Oh.” He clears his throat in that familiar, stalling way. “I was sixteen. With Mary. She was my high school girlfriend.” I wonder if that means he’s only ever had sex with me and her. They could have been separated at some point. It’s possible he cheated on her, although he doesn’t seem the type. And it’s been years since she died. He could have had sex with someone else since then. That feels like too personal a question for our relationship, so instead, I ask, “What was she like?” I wouldn’t have asked that question earlier today. He’s not a talkative man, and I’ve been trying not to pry into his private thoughts and history. But he asked about me, so maybe I’m allowed to ask about him. I want to know more. A lot more. “Oh,” he mutters. “She was… I loved her.” I wait, but he doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to. I understand. He’s a good man, so he doesn’t want to use me or take advantage of me, but there are clear boundaries around our relationship, and those boundaries will remain. He wants us to share this life and help each other out. He wants me to do the inside work that’s more than he can handle by himself. He wants to fuck me—no doubt about that. And he wants me to be safe and content in our practical arrangement. And he wants me to be honest and not keep secrets from him. But he doesn’t want me to be close to him. He’s not going to open up to me. His mother told me before I moved here that he got closed off after Impact, and it’s clear to me now that he’s likely to stay that way. That’s okay. It’s a little disappointing since something inside me wants to get close to him, but I don’t have to indulge that soft little instinct.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“So I heard the big news.” “Oh. Yeah.” I blush but hide it by rubbing a wet washcloth over my face. “Are you excited?” “Yeah. I am. It’s a good thing. It’s just… unexpected.” “Eh, I’ve caught him staring at you a bunch of times. Think he was interested from the beginning.” If anything, my cheeks burn even hotter. “Really?” “Yes. That’s my take anyway. Plus things happen faster now than they used to. People don’t have time to play around and hem and haw and romanticize and waste months and years before they commit. And Jimmy’s been on his own a few years now. Ever since his wife died.” “He had a wife?” I lower my washcloth and turn around to face her. “Yeah, he did. She died like three or four years ago. They got married right out of high school, and I think they did pretty well together. They didn’t think she could get pregnant, but she finally did. But the baby came way too early, and then she and the baby both died.” “Oh.” My chest clenches. That must have been so hard for him. “That’s terrible.” “I’m sure it was. I wasn’t around here then, but that’s what I’ve heard about him. He seems like a decent guy. You could do a lot worse.” “I know. I’m glad about it. Kind of nervous since I’ve never done anything like it before, but still glad.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“I have absolutely no fantasies about romance. It hasn’t factored into any of my future plans for years. Years. So I feel just a little bit bad for Laura even as I’m annoyed by her backhanded comments, and I don’t let myself get angry. I can’t get angry—at least I can’t show it. My position is far too tenuous here. From this point on, my primary goals are as follows. Make Jimmy happy to the best of my ability. Secure a safe and mostly comfortable space for myself in the world. And not get on anyone’s bad side who might be in the position to affect my first two goals.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“He shifts restlessly. “Been lookin’ for someone.” I glance over because he sounds different. More mumbly than ever. He’s not even looking at me. “A woman,” he adds, darting me a quick look. “Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.” I take out my impatience on another dirty shirt and my washboard. Why won’t the man just shut up? If he wants to ask Laura to couple up with him, he can do it. He doesn’t have to hash it all out with me first. He seems kind of impatient too. Like he’s expecting something from me and I’m not providing it. “So thought… thought I’d ask… you.” I stop scrubbing and stare at him. This is getting ridiculous. I finally say bluntly, “Ask me what?” He frowns, almost grumpy. “Ask if you wanna be my woman.” Shock. That’s my initial reaction. My eyes widen, and my mouth falls open. His frown deepens. “You surprised?” “Yes, I’m surprised,” I choke out. “You’re asking if I want to be your woman?” “Course. Why the hell else would I be ramblin’ on about all this?” “I didn’t know. You’re… you’re asking me?”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“I’m trying to do the job I was given without complaining even if it means they’re starting to eat dinner while I’m not even close to done. It’s better than starving, and I’ve finally figured out how to rub the fabric against the washboard without scraping my knuckles and getting blood everywhere. Because I’m focused so intently on my work, I gasp when someone suddenly sits down on the bench beside me. I blink a few times before I process that it’s Jimmy.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“What’s your name?” I finally ask. “Oh. I’m Jimmy. Jimmy Carlson. What about you?” “I’m Chloe.” He stares at me for what feels like a long time. Then he shakes his head like he disapproves. “What?” I demand. He mutters, “Don’t know what the hell your grandpa was thinking takin’ you out here. You’re way too little and pretty to be out here on your own.” My spine stiffens. A swell of indignation rises inside me. How dare he judge Grandpa? He has no idea about our circumstances or how well my grandfather took care of me. He doesn’t know anything. But I bite back my instinctive response.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“You’re doin’ good, Chloe, doll,” my grandfather says. “Just don’t stop.” Those are his last words. His very last. A crack of sound behind us makes me whimper. I’m about to ask if that was a gunshot, but then Grandpa slumps forward in his seat. He stays like that, unmoving. After a minute, I realize there’s blood gushing out of his neck.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead

“One random Friday, the president announced that an asteroid was on a collision course for Earth. My world and everyone else’s—the entire planet—fell into chaos. Everything that was capable of collapsing eventually did. My grandfather showed up the next day as stores were being ransacked and riots were erupting in the streets. He begged us to run. Escape to his survival-adapted cabin in the middle of nowhere where he’d stored up years’ worth of food and provisions. My parents finally agreed, but they insisted on taking the time to pack all their favorite possessions while Grandpa and I waited impatiently in his old truck. The delay was a mistake. Large groups of violent looters were already hitting the wealthy neighborhoods in town, plundering houses and killing anyone who resisted. My mom and dad didn’t resist. Neither of them had ever thrown a punch or loaded a gun in their lives. But they were killed anyway, and Grandpa and I barely made it out of there alive. By then the interstates and highways were impossible, clogged with cars and roadblocked by aggressive militia groups whose day had finally arrived. Grandpa took us on smaller back roads, shooting at or running over anyone who tried to stop us, until we reached his remote cabin and left the remains of civilization behind. We stayed there—living off everything he’d stored up and using the self-sustaining energy and plumbing systems he’d installed—for more than eight years. A couple of years ago, as our supplies were running low, we realized we’d finally have to leave the safe isolation of our home long enough to scavenge for food and provisions. This region of the Ozarks was abandoned a long time ago as the protected forests and uncultivated wildland overtook the former pockets of residents, but there are still plenty of abandoned buildings remaining.”
― Claire Kent, Homestead