Chapter Ten
West
It’s almost five when I leave Daisy’s, so I head straight to Mama’s for dinner. The entire family sits around the table, and seven sets of eyes follow me as I wipe off my boots and hang my hat on the hook by the door.
“We were wondering if we’d see you tonight,” Mama says in a tone that’s equal parts rebuke and suspicion. “Since you missed dinner, breakfast, and lunch.”
“Hi, Mama.” I lean in and kiss her cheek.
“Yeah, West.” Wyatt taunts. “Where you been?”
“I know where he wasn’t. Spending the weekend with the date I set him up on. Poor Lainey is currently nursing another broken heart and is ready to swear off men all together.”
“I’m sure Lainey was real broken hearted after the ten minutes of scintillating conversation we had.”
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t jumped right to, ‘This isn’t going anywhere but the bedroom’ you’d have learned that she is a gorgeous human being who loves to read Romantasy, looks like a Victoria’s Secret Angel, and has a degree in Early Childcare Education and Development.”
“Well, like I said already,” I pick up the mashed potatoes and pile a heap on my plate, then I grab the fried chicken and collard greens, slapping too much of everything on there just to avoid looking my sister in the eyes. “Why don’t you date her if you like her so much?”
“No offence, Lemonade,” Colt says patting her hand on the table. “But I am getting the vibe that you might want to date her.”
“And here I thought I was the only gay on the ranch.” Wyatt grins, setting his fork down and leaning back in his chair.
“Shut up, Wyatt,” Lemon and I say at the same time.
“Maybe you should introduce Lainey to me?” Wade says. “I mean, am I chopped freaking liver here?”
“Lainey isn’t the type for your shenanigans, Wade. She’s sophisticated, and she just moved from London. Cohabitating with the livestock is hardly her thing.”
“Wait, why is West being setup at all? Isn’t he all hot and heavy for Daisy-Mae?” Cash asks, as if I’m not even here. “He sure spends a bunch of time there.”
Mama’s eyes light up. Uh-oh. “Daisy-Mae? As in our employee who runs the B caramel apple cobbler. I really am sorry though. I know you were just trying to be sweet.
Me: It’s okay, Dais.
Baby Mama: I’m not used to sweet, or to people sticking around, or to friends, really. I think I’m a lot more difficult that I gave myself credit for.
Me: Yeah, the worst. I mean I’ve known horses less stubborn than you.
I decide I’m done with the texting, I want to hear her voice in my ear as if she were sitting right next to me, so I call. She answers on the first ring.
“I got tired of juggling you and my guitar. Thought we’d have a real conversation instead. Look, Baby Mama, no hands.”
She sounds sleepy as she giggles into the phone. “You get the nickname.”
“I do. I like it. Think it’s gonna stick.”
“What are you playing? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you play anything that wasn’t gospel in church.”
“That’s because Wyatt and I were too young to play Earl’s. The only public place we were allowed to sing was church. And now, I perform for an audience of Ham, about a hundred head of cattle, and whatever coyotes can’t dash away fast enough the second they hear me hit a bum note.”
“Will you play for me now?”
“Well, it’s gonna cost ya some more of that cobbler.”
“And that will cost you another trip to SaveCo.” She laughs and then says quietly, “One where I don’t ruin everything.”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want, darlin’, anytime.
And you know, just because you ain’t ever had sweet, don’t mean you won’t get used to it.
Eddie was an asshole, Dais. Your mama and daddy?
They were no good. But that don’t mean that you don’t deserve the world.
You just need to let someone give it to you. ”
“West?”
“Yeah, Dais?”
“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m really glad my car broke down.”
“Me too.” I exhale slowly.
She sighs. “Some nights, I feel so lonely I can’t stand it.”
“I know the feeling.” I hit the speaker button and set the phone on the table beside my whiskey and strum a couple chords to, “I’m so lonesome I could die”.
“You make it better.”
“Right back at ya, darlin’.”
I slide into Riley Green’s “Don’t Mind If I Do”, and then I play Chris Stapleton’s “Whiskey And You”, and wish she was here on my porch with me.
I want her sharing this lounger, her steady heartbeat echoing through my chest, with her back to my front, and my body wrapped tightly around hers.
I can’t pinpoint the moment I fell for Daisy-Mae, but as I listen to her softly breathing into the phone, I know I’m head over heels, and I’d give anything to make her mine.
“Get some sleep, darlin’,” I say into the phone, my voice gravelly from whiskey and singing. “I know I’ll be up all damn night.”