Chapter 27 Lessons Learned the Hard Way
Lessons Learned the Hard Way
BILLIE
“Just so I understand.” Dad furrows his brow, pressing his fingertips into the pristine surface of his desk. “Are you going to build this program in your spare time? Because I’m not sure how you’ll be director there and bookkeeper here.”
Mom is frowning as she stands beside Dad, who sits in his chair. “That sounds like an awful lot to put on your plate right now, Billie.”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep, steadying breath. I thought that presenting my idea at the end of the workday, when Mom and Dad are usually their jolliest because their favorite time—dinner together—is imminent, I’d have a better chance of winning them over.
Judging by their confused, skeptical expressions, that is not the case.
Fuck.
“I don’t think it’s any secret I’ve been unhappy in my position for a while.” I choose my words carefully. “It’s time for a change. I’m resigning as bookkeeper so I can be director of the therapy program.”
Dad’s eyebrows pop up. He glances at Mom, whose frown deepens.
I feel seasick all of a sudden.
“I can’t say that I’m surprised to hear this,” Dad says after an excruciating pause. “Of course I know you’ve been in a funk. But I thought that was solved now that you and Ryder are together.”
“My love life and my career are two separate things. I don’t love being an accountant, Dad. In fact, I kind of hate it.”
“But you’re so good at it, honey!” Mom clasps her hands. The knuckles are white. “It’d be a waste to let you quit now. The experience you’ve gained—”
“We need a bookkeeper, Billie. The idea of a therapy program is neat, but that’s not an immediate concern of ours. Paying our taxes is. Running payroll for our employees is.”
My eyes prick. Damn it, I didn’t want to get emotional, but I can already tell I’m fighting a losing battle.
Or more succinctly: My parents don’t understand what I’m trying to say.
They don’t understand me. And that hurts.
“I’ll help y’all find another accountant,” I manage around the tightness in my throat.
“Just because I’m good at something doesn’t mean I should do it.
I miss being outside. I miss—God, I miss everything about being with the horses.
I’m meant to work with people and animals.
Not numbers. I’m dying a slow death being trapped inside this office all day. ”
Mom’s frown deepens. “Well, honey, sometimes that’s just life.”
I shake my head. “Y’all aren’t hearing me.
If I stay in this job—stay in this office—I’m gonna wither away.
I refuse to let that happen. I’m resigning, Mom, whether y’all approve or not.
Now can we please talk about the therapy program?
I spent weeks putting together that deck.
” I nod at the stapled packet in Mom’s lap.
My parents exchange another glance. My stomach clenches. They’re worried, which doesn’t help my own anxiety over whether I can pull off this crazy idea.
“I can tell you’ve put a lot of thought into this.” Dad glances at the presentation. “And I love the community outreach angle. I really do. It’s something I’d hoped to focus on one day. But that’s down the road a ways, honey. It’s something your mother and I could think about in our retirement.”
“So retire already, and help me make this dream a reality. The boys practically run the ranch themselves anyway, Dad. Doing something like this—something that’s creative, that has a real impact—it really is a dream of mine.
Y’all know I’m a hard worker. Whatever I put my mind to, I make happen.
I’m asking you to trust me to make this happen too. ”
Judging by the way Mom sighs and Dad blinks, I’m not making great headway in that respect.
“We’ll have the help of experts in every field,” I add.
“Everyone’s offered advice and help. I know y’all respect the hell out of Mollie and Cash for turning things around at Lucky River Ranch.
They think big, and I wanna think big too.
That’s why you’re getting us rebranded, right, Dad? It’s time to think outside the box.”
His smile doesn’t touch his eyes. “You’re so young, Billie. Too young to be making this kind of leap. It’s important to work hard at your age. Save your money, so you can—”
“Quit once I start a family?” I stare at him. “That’s not my plan. I like working.”
Mom crosses her arms. “You might feel differently one day.”
Now I’m really gonna cry. Not just because I’m hurt—and I am really hurt—but also because I’m hugely frustrated.
“Do y’all know me at all?” My voice is thin. I curl my fingers into my chest, tears leaking out of my eyes. “That’s not who I am. That’s not who I ever was. I’m sorry I’m not the perfect daughter y’all always wanted, but I can’t pretend to be happy trying to be her anymore. I am who I am.”
Mom gets up, her eyes watery, and wraps me in a hug. “You’re breaking my heart here, Elizabeth May. I’ve always loved you just as you are. You don’t have to be anybody else for us to love you, okay? Let’s get that one thing straight.”
I nod, inhaling the familiar jasmine scent of the lotion she uses on her chapped hands. “Okay.”
“If I ever put pressure on you to be someone you weren’t, I apologize. Sincerely. I was just doing what I thought was right. That’s how I was raised.”
I keep nodding, unable to speak.
“We’ve always wanted to set you and your brothers up for success,” Dad says gently.
“I told you before that I never got much guidance when I was young. I felt like I could’ve really benefitted from someone helping me out the way I’m trying to help you.
Accounting is a very noble profession. It can be lucrative too. ”
“We were helping you make good decisions so you wouldn’t have regrets later. Or so we thought.” Mom leans back, her hands on my shoulders. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Because I didn’t want to rock the boat, Mom. I wanted so badly to want to be an accountant. I knew how proud y’all were, and I felt like I was making a real contribution to the ranch. But I can’t…” I shake my head, eyes closed. “I can’t do it anymore. I should’ve said something. I’m realizing…”
I take a deep breath.
“What, honey?” Dad asks.
“For someone so outspoken, I’ve never really talked about important things with y’all. Colt asked me why I never told him I had a crush on Ryder—”
“Did you really need to tell us?” Mom grins. “We all knew, honey.”
“Exactly! But wouldn’t have hurt to say it out loud. Maybe then Colt wouldn’t hate me so much right now. It wouldn’t have been such a shock, you know?”
Dad gently runs a hand up my arm. “I’ve had some words with your brother. I understand where he’s coming from, but I don’t agree with him holding a grudge like this. That’s not how things work in our family.”
I wave Dad away. “Thank you for speaking up on my behalf. But I just… I own that I’m to blame here.
So even though it feels like my relationship with Ryder and this idea of starting an animal therapy program are coming out of nowhere, I’ve actually been thinking about them for a long time.
I’ve thought about Ryder for years, and I’ve wanted to do something other than bookkeeping pretty much from the second I started doing it. ”
Dad’s chest rises on a deep, thoughtful inhale. “If you’re really that unhappy, Billie, we need to make some changes. I’m sorry I didn’t pay better attention—I should’ve known you needed something different.”
“Thank you for saying that.” I manage a tight smile when Mom wipes away my tears. “We both have some work to do, yeah?”
Mom grins. “You’re even starting to talk like Ryder.”
“Oh God.” I put my face in my hands. “I’m turning into that girl, aren’t I?”
“Love makes you do wild things,” Dad singsongs.
Mom’s eyebrows pop up. “Love, huh?”
“Love,” Dad confirms, eyes on mine.
“Y’all need to mind your own business,” I tease, then I look up as the headlights arc across the room.
I’d know the sound of that diesel engine anywhere.
Everything inside me drops a hundred stories as I watch Ryder climb out of the car and slam the door.
He runs—why is he running?—into the office, his footfalls loud.
I’m reaching for the door just as he knocks.
“Billie? Billie, baby, you okay?”
I yank open the door to see him standing there. His face is sunburnt, and his eyes are full of concern, brows curved upward.
He’s breathing hard. Stepping forward, he takes my face in his hands.
He smells like my soap.
“Aw, Billie, why’re you—”
“They’re happy tears. Well, kind of.” I glance at my parents, who are watching us with a funny gleam in their eyes.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wallace.” Ryder nods.
Dad puts his arm around Mom’s shoulders. “How many times I gotta ask you to call me Dale?”
“At least one more.”
Ryder’s eyes move between my parents and me. “Can I ask how things are, uh, going?”
I sigh, trying to swallow the tightness in my throat that won’t quit. “They’re going all right. We just agreed we all have work to do about opening up to each other, even when it’s painful or inconvenient.”
“How ironic.” Ryder’s lips twitch. “That’s only what you’ve been teaching me to do. With great success, might I add.”
“I’m good at everything I do.” I’m teasing again.
Ryder, though, takes me seriously. “You really are. You made the pitch?” He glances at the deck, which Mom put on Dad’s desk.
“I did.”
“And? Please tell me we’re starting an animal therapy program.”
I look at Dad, who looks at Mom. While they do their silent communication thing, I’m hit by the idea that maybe my parents’ marriage isn’t as traditional as I’d always assumed. I thought Dad took his role as head of our household seriously, meaning he was in charge—he made all the decisions.
Now I see that Mom might actually be the one in charge. Have I been so blinded by my own assumptions that I couldn’t see how my parents’ relationship actually worked?
“I’m hoping that’s what we’re about to do,” I reply.
Ryder’s eyes are full as they toggle between mine.
“And I hope you are ready to change a lot of lives, Billie. Because that’s exactly what you’re gonna do when you build this program and bring people into the fold here on your family’s ranch.
” He glances at my parents. “Y’all have something so, so special, and what a brilliant idea to share it so others can heal and maybe see that life is infinitely richer if you know nature and know how to show it respect too.
“Billie’s got a pretty amazing vision for how it would work,” Ryder continues.
“She’s been working on her plans nonstop.
Her phone literally died yesterday because she was on the phone so long with Mollie Luck.
She was picking Mollie’s brain about a little bit of everything—payroll, hiring practices, mission statements. ”
Mom cocks an eyebrow. “So what’s your mission statement, Billie? In a single sentence.”
I meet Ryder’s eyes. Think for a beat. Another.
“My mission is to share my love of a life lived alongside animals—a love of the outdoors—with others, while helping to find a respect for the awesome healing power of nature and community. I speak from experience because I’ve been healed by y’all literally”—I lift my arm—“and figuratively. I think it’s also worth mentioning that my nightmares have completely stopped, since I started working on this plan. ”
Now, Mom’s the one who is blinking back tears. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so—” She swallows hard and covers her mouth with her hand. “So relieved. They were awful.”
My voice wobbles. “Thank you.” I look at Mom and Dad, heart thundering. “We’re kind of a dream team, if I say so myself.”
Dad smiles. “I love how y’all support each other. That’s important.”
“It’s important to support each other,” Mom replies. “We’ll have to talk about this a little more—a lot more—but Billie, I think you’ve hit on something real interesting here.”
“I imagine there’s a need for this kind of program in Hartsville too.” Dad is nodding. “I haven’t heard of any other animal therapy programs in the area.”
“Believe it or not, ours would be the only program in a hundred-mile radius.”
Ryder nods. “My mom had to drive me to Austin.”
“You had therapy with animals?” Dad asks.
“I did. I had a speech delay when I was little. The therapy really helped.”
Dad looks at Mom again, and I know with a certainty that’s nonsensical they’re going to say yes.
Holy fucking shit.
Holy shit, this is happening.
The life I’ve dreamed of but never thought would happen is, well, happening. Right now.
“We’re interested,” Dad says at last.
“Very interested,” Mom says.
“Interested in what?”
I turn, pulse halting to a sudden, painful stop when I see Colt standing in the doorway.