Chapter 22
22
GAbrIEL
I pull up to the barn, parking next to my cousin Charlie’s truck, open the door, and step out.
My boots hit the dusty driveway as I grab my phone and put it in my jacket pocket before making my way inside to go straight for the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee.
“Well, well…” someone says from the side of the barn, and I look at JB and Charlie, both leaning against a stall with their own cups of coffee in their hands. “There he is, Dopey.”
I stop walking, my eyebrows pinching together. “That’s not his name; it’s Mopey.” Charlie laughs. “It’s Mopey.”
“What the fuck are you two going on about?” I ask but don’t really care. I haven’t cared about anything since she left.
“You’ve been fucking Mopey Dick for the past fucking month,” Charlie declares. “If you aren’t mopey, you’re grumpy.” It’s been a month, and I thought it would get easier after two weeks, but then I spiraled down even further. Every turn I made, I thought I saw her. Everything I did, I wanted to text her. Every fucking day when I opened my eyes, I stupidly reached out for her in the bed but came up empty.
“What the fuck are you two hens gossiping about?” I almost hiss while I grab a white mug hanging on the wall and pour myself a cup of coffee. “Shouldn’t you be working?” I look over at JB. “And you, aren’t you busy getting all your ducks in a row for your new place?” I lean against the counter, taking a sip of the coffee.
“I am working,” JB states. “We’re discussing what we are going to do for the day, and then you walked in, so now we’re discussing how you need to get laid, and maybe you’ll be in a better fucking mood.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t be thinking about my dick to begin with.” I try to hide the smirk when JB glares at me while Charlie snickers beside him.
“Do you notice it’s just the two of us?” JB replies, and I look around. “It’s because no one wants to be with you.”
“That’s not true,” Charlie says, shaking his head. “Your father and Pops are okay with being with you.”
“I’m fine,” I snap, pushing away from the counter. “I’m just tired.”
“From what?” JB asks. “How hard is it to mope around being grumpy?”
“It takes a lot of energy,” Charlie interjects, and I turn my glare over to him. “Don’t kill the messenger.” He pushes away from the stall. “Now, let’s go through the horses so I can pick the ones I want to take over to the other barn, and then I need to go over the horses I’m taking down to Montgavin this weekend.”
“Then you guys do have work to do.” I finish the coffee, making it burn all the way down. “So I suggest you get to work.” I walk out of the barn toward the fenced arena, looking at the horses we brought in two days ago.
JB and Charlie quickly follow me outside, Charlie with a clipboard and JB with another one. “Let’s get started.” I don’t give them room to talk because if they say one more thing about my mood, or how I’ve been this past month, I’m going to throat punch the both of them and hog-tie them together.
We work side by side until we hear some truck doors close and see my Uncle Quinn arriving. The four of us go through the list of horses, making sure we are all on the same page. We make a plan to move the horses to the other stable. The phone beeps in my pocket, and I take it out, my heart speeding up, thinking that maybe, just maybe, it might be her.
But it’s not, it’s Patricia.
Patricia: Hey, would you be able to grab Colson from school? Meri has come down with something, and her doctor just called, and she can fit us in.
Me: Yeah, I’ll pick him up and keep him for the night.
Patricia: That would be amazing, thanks.
“Okay, boys, I have to go.” I put the phone back in my pocket. “See you tomorrow.”
“In a better mood, we all hope,” Charlie prods, trying not to laugh at himself.
I ignore him, walking to the truck and getting in. If I sit still for a couple of minutes, I can still smell her in here. But as the days go by, it’s fainter and fainter. I close my eyes, turning the truck on and heading toward Colson’s school. The parking lot is almost full by the time I get there, so I get out and walk to the playground.
I do a chin up at most of the people who I walk by and to some of the moms I know. Sharing a couple of hellos to some of the dads before walking into the chain-link fence.
The door opens as soon as I get there, and kids start to slowly come out. My eyes are trained on the door for Colson, and when he walks out, he looks around before he spots me, and his eyes go big as he runs over to me. “Dad,” he says, surprised by my being here. He hugs me around my waist.
“Hey, buddy.” I bend to kiss the top of his head. He’s growing like a weed these days. Each time, I have to bend less and less.
“Where is Mom?” I put my hand around his shoulder as we walk out of the schoolyard.
“Meri had a fever, so you got me tonight.” I look down at him, and he smiles up at me. “Do you have homework?”
“No,” he replies, “I did it all in class.”
“Want to go riding?” I ask him, and he jumps up beside me, making me laugh. “I take that as a yes.”
“Yessss!” he shouts, running to the truck and getting into the back seat. He tosses his backpack beside him before buckling his seat belt.
I make sure he’s buckled before pulling out of the parking lot and heading to the barn. When we pull up, I see it’s just the two of us since everyone has gone home. “I’ll grab your saddle,” I tell him, reaching over to the passenger seat and grabbing the cowboy hat Zara gave me.
It’s with me all the time in the truck, but I never, ever wear it when I’m working for fear that I’ll dirty it. But when I’m not working, it’s on my head. Why? I have no idea. I mean, I know why. I’m just choosing not to discuss it.
“Got it, Dad,” he assures me, going to the office where he has his cowboy boots. He kicks off his sneakers before shoving his feet into his worn cowboy boots and running to me to get on his horse. He helps me saddle him; I get Colson on his horse as he nudges his side to get him to move a bit faster. I grab my own horse and join him outside. “You good to go?”
“Yeah,” he says, smirking as we make our horses go into a trot before heading to the trail and then moving a bit faster. The wind is on my face as I watch Colson from beside me. He smiles over to me as we slow down when we get out of the forest and into another clearing.
“You good?” I ask him, and he just nods and looks down at his hands. My eyes go to the forest where I took Zara on our date. It’s someplace where we used to always go, but I haven’t been since she left.
“Dad,” he calls me, and I look over at him, “are you okay?”
“What?” I ask, confused by his question.
“It’s just that…” He looks like he’s worried about saying what he is thinking, and my stomach sinks.
“Buddy,” I call him, and he looks back at me. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me anything.”
He nods and starts talking. “It’s just that you seem sad.”
My stomach sinks as I listen to him. “Like, you smile and all that and you tease me, but sometimes when you stand in the kitchen and you look out, you get this sad look on your face.”
I think about it for a second. “I’m fine, buddy,” I tell him the truth, more or less.
“It’s okay to be sad,” he tells me, and I try to hide my smile as he gives me advice. “At least that is what Mom says.”
“It is okay to be sad,” I agree with him, “but I’m not sad.” I lie to him for the first time, something I said I would never do as a parent. I had the best father growing up, and good or bad, he always told me the truth. I knew that once I had a child, I would take the same parenting style. But what the fuck am I supposed to tell my eight-year-old child? I’m sad because I fell in love with a woman, and she left? Am I supposed to admit to him I read and reread our text thread every night before I go to bed? Am I supposed to admit to him my heart hurts every fucking day when I think about her, and I think about her for fucking hours? Am I supposed to admit to him I have my coffee every morning at my sink, looking out the window because she used to do it when she was here? Am I supposed to tell him I fucking miss her with every fiber of my being, and I would give anything just to hear her fucking voice again? Am I supposed to tell him all that? No, I’m supposed to be strong for him and make sure he doesn’t worry about me, something I dropped the ball on.
“If you were sad,” he adds as the horses walk side by side, “would you tell me?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re a smart kid,” I tell him. “You know that, right?”
He laughs also. “Yeah,” he agrees, “Mom says I get it from her.” He laughs even more. “But when I do something bad, I’m yours.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “Well, good thing you got a mix of both,” I say, and he nods.
We spend three hours riding, and when we get home, we both head to the shower before I make him something to eat. He doesn’t even try to stay up longer than he has to. I walk around the house, making sure all the lights are off and we are all locked up before heading back to my bedroom. Pulling the cover back and sliding in, I grab my phone, pull up her thread, and read the last line in the chat.
Zara: I’m ready, Cowboy.
I close it, not wanting to scroll to the top of the thread tonight. I put my phone on my bedside table before shutting off the light. Text her! my head screams at me, but then my heart stops me from doing it. “If she wanted to talk to you, she would have texted you,” I tell myself, wondering what she is doing right this minute. Wondering if she’s sitting on the couch watching one of the reality television shows she told me about. Or maybe she’s out to dinner on a date. That thought alone makes me want to vomit. I turn onto my back, stretching out one arm where she slept the whole time she was here and the other on my chest. “You knew it was for two weeks,” I remind myself, “and she’s moved on.” I close my eyes. “Now you have to also.”