Chapter 33
thirty-three
Bobbie Jo Hammond glanced over to her mother. “Mom, you got the job.” She gave her a smile and focused on the highway in front of her again.
“Yes.” Her momma sighed, and Bobbie Jo wished she could feel the same relief driving through her.
“So…are you going to go look at that condo?” Bobbie Jo refused to look at her mother, though they’d had a couple of conversations about the temporary-ness of the current living situation.
If Bobbie Jo wanted to stay married—and she did—she really needed her parents to have a plan—a real plan—to get their own place.
“I suppose,” her mother said. “Your father is enjoying the work at the farm.”
“I’m glad.” Bobbie Jo made her voice as bright as possible. “That condo is really close to both places.” She wouldn’t let this go; she couldn’t.
Her parents never found satisfaction in anything, though they smiled and laughed and said things like, “Your father is enjoying the work at the farm.”
At least Daddy had found a job working with horses at a training stable and wasn’t working for Tucker anymore. That had only lasted a couple of weeks, and apparently, winter in Colorado was far harsher than those in Oklahoma.
Bobbie Jo had experienced them both, and she knew they were about the same.
Exactly the same, she thought dryly. But she tamed that inner grump, and sweetened all her saltiness.
“Mom,” she said. “Tucker and I wanted to talk to you about perhaps building a house on the farm.” She flicked a glance over to her mother, but didn’t make contact. This road sat straight and long, but Bobbie Jo’s nerves rioted.
“There’s a great parcel right on the highway,” she said, her words rushing over each other now. “Easy on and off the property, and you’d have your own place.”
“Oh, Bobbie Jo.” Her mother sighed again, but this time, it didn’t carry any of the relief as before.
“What?” she asked. “Tarr knows a great general contractor, and his house is almost done.”
“I can’t let you two give us land and build us a house.”
Bobbie Jo blinked, because her mother and father had taken everything—every single thing—she and Tuck had offered them since they’d arrived in Tulsa a few days before Christmas.
“So….”
“We’re going to go look at the condo next week,” her mom said. “I’ll call the realtor today.”
So she hadn’t even done that yet. Bobbie Jo gritted her teeth, but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to mother her mother,
“Okay.” She swallowed. “But Mom, really. Tuck’s cousin is building a place for his parents on his farm, and Tuck and I are more than happy to do that.”
She and Tucker had gone across the city to Mike and Gerty’s farm, and they’d seen the construction happening on the new house there. Nothing big, as it was just Tucker’s aunt and uncle. But then, Wes and Bree would be living close to two of their children—and their grandchildren.
Bobbie Jo wasn’t pregnant, and she and Tucker hadn’t even been married for a year yet. But her parents were here, now employed, and she supposed anything could happen at any time.
“I know you are, dear.” Her mother patted her hand, and her third sigh wasn’t one of relief, or frustration, but of…resignation. “We really appreciate everything you and Tuck have done for us.”
Bobbie Jo nodded.
“But we do need somewhere without so many stairs.”
The way she said it made Bobbie Jo feel like the second-story suite—complete with furniture, a made-for-them kitchen, loft, and den—wasn’t good enough.
Oh, and they’d been living there for three months for free.
But you know, the stairs.
Bobbie Jo held her tongue, and changed the words she wanted to say into different ones. “Yeah, Daddy’s knees can’t handle those stairs for much longer.”
“No,” her mother said. “Don’t you worry, Bobbie Jo. We’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”
Bobbie Jo caught her mother’s smile in her peripheral vision, and all she could do was pray that her mother hadn’t just lied to her.
Please, please, please, she thought, sending her pleas heavenward. Please bless my parents—and me and Tuck—that this condo will be somewhere that can give us the answers we all need.