Seven
“Want to tell me what’s bothering you?” Tuck asked.
I glanced at him from Dorcus’s back. We’d saddled up his parents’ horses and were now ambling down the trails in the subdivision.
“I’m not sure I have the words.”
My mind wouldn’t stop cataloging moments I’d experienced rejection. From Mama, whenever I tried to become a little more independent. And from Tuck—though was it really his fault if I never told him how I felt about him? Not to mention every single time I walked into a space as a minority and others assumed I had no right to be there. When would the world stop rejecting me?
“Was it something Mom said? Me?”
I shook my head. “You’re great. You never get on my bad side.” Much. Again, I couldn’t truly fault him for treating me like a friend if I never expressed a want for anything different.
It’s better this way. If Tuck remains your best friend, then he’ll never disappoint you in that area.
“Because I’m not a fool,” Tuck said.
I chuckled, feeling a little brightness push away the darkness. “Except that one time in middle school when you asked if I was on my period.” My lips pursed, and I stared at him, daring him to remember the full error of his ways.
Tuck’s face turned red. “I blame that on my newfound education. It only seemed to make sense because you were so moody.”
“Oh, and you forgetting my birthday didn’t factor into it?”
“Well, no. I’d forgotten it, remember?” He smirked.
How I loved that expression on him. No one should make smug look that adorable. “Whatever, Tucker Hale.” I made sure my scoff came out loud and over the top so he wouldn’t suspect the hidden feelings I chose to set aside.
“So who got on your bad side? Aaron?” he asked cautiously.
I studied Tuck, then decided it was better just to tell him everything. “Not necessarily. Hearing your mom talk about being cast aside triggered some memories.” Not to mention, being reminded that Dream did live up to the potential I saw in him.
“Which ones?”
I held on to the saddle, staring off into the evening sky. I didn’t discuss racial issues with Tuck that often. Never really felt a hundred percent comfortable divulging my deepest fears to those I loved, not even to the man who knew me the best. “Aaron asked how big of a factor race played into my upbringing.”
Tuck’s blue eyes flickered across my face as if searching for my true emotions. “What did you tell him?”
“At first I tried to avoid answering. But honestly, talking to him about it felt kind of safe.” My gaze darted to Tuck’s. How could I explain that the safety came from Aaron being in the same minority bracket, not from a close relationship?
Tuck looked taken aback. “You trust him that quickly?”
“Not really. But being in the same ethnic group makes a difference.” I hid the wince that wanted to crawl onto my face.
Tuck turned away, his jaw rigid. Had I upset him? Was he hurt that I didn’t share that part of me with him so readily? “Tuck?”
“Hmm?”
I guided Dorcus closer to his horse. “I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable.”
Tuck faced me. His brow was furrowed and his mouth downturned, yet I had no idea what the expression on his face meant. It wasn’t his angry one or even a sad one.
“Tuck?”
“What does that cost you?”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“What does not sharing how you truly feel about a subject because I’m white ... what does that cost you?”
Tears welled in my eyes. No one had ever asked me that. Not Mama, not Daddy. I bit my lip, searching for the words.
“I want to be there for you.” Tuck sighed. “I hope you know that’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be someone you can trust with everything. Even if you think it’ll make me uncomfortable. I don’t want comfort at the cost of yours.”
My throat ached from unshed tears. I wanted to fall into Tuck’s arms and share every single emotion coursing through me. But I couldn’t let the romantic feelings out. How could I say what I needed to say without showing that?
I wiped at an errant tear. “You are that person. Just because I shared something with Aaron doesn’t mean I value him more than you.” I gathered courage and looked Tuck in the eye. “Because of who you are, I’m able to share more of myself with you than anyone else.”
“Then know you can talk about racial issues. I won’t die of shock. I sincerely hope I won’t ask insensitive questions, but I ask you to check me if I do. Is that okay?”
Could I share that part of myself with him? After all, Tuck’s rejecting me as a love interest because of my race was one of my biggest fears. But if I shared, maybe I could see how he handled things. I could see if sharing my feelings for him was actually a possibility.
“Okay, Tuck.”
He gave me a cautious smile.
“Ask me anything.” I threw my hands into the air, symbolizing throwing caution to the wind. Only I could tell how much my insides quaked.
Tuck didn’t say anything immediately. Knowing him, he was measuring everything flitting through his mind before deciding what was best to say.
“Do you ever think your parents made a mistake adopting you?” he asked quietly.
Too many times.More tears sprang to my eyes. “I don’t want to answer that.”
Tuck leaned across Jedidiah and pulled on Dorcus’s reins. The horses came to a stop as his gaze met mine.
“God knew who would raise you, Piper McKinney. He knew every struggle you’d go through. But remember this, none of it’s wasted. God’ll use it all for good. All of it.”
A tear slipped down my cheek. “I just feel so lost sometimes. Like I don’t know who I am, but I do, but then that version isn’t good enough for people.”
“Who? People like those in the media? They’re only chasing after a story. All that matters is what God thinks. Not a single person on this side of heaven, including me and your folks, matter. You answer to God.”
But I wanted my parents to matter. I wanted Tuck’s opinion to have weight as well. “Y’all are my people, though.” I hated hearing my voice crack, knowing a full crying session would be coming if I didn’t take in steady breaths.
“And we always will be.” Tuck’s lips softened into a smile. “I’ve got your back, Piper. I don’t expect you to conform to some ideal version of who I think you should be. Be yourself. Be who God made you to be and how life circumstances have shaped you. Value every dip in the valley and every rise up the mountaintop.”
I wiped my face with the hem of my shirt. “You always have such a way with words.” I took the reins and blew out a breath. “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
We guided the horses back into a walk. “Tuck?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think my mama will ever see me as an adult? Do you think she’ll stop caring about what society thinks and let me just be?” As much as I wondered if my folks made a mistake adopting me, I couldn’t forget how much I loved them and they loved me. They were my parents, and nothing would change that.
“I don’t know what drives your mom to be that way. She’d wrap you in a bubble if she could. Having you work for them, keeping you in the same house ... When you moved out, you took the control away from her. She either has to adapt or...” He shrugged.
I hated that he was right. I guess it was the need to please my parents that made part of me want to move back home. “I’ll always be their daughter. I simply want to be the adult I am and live the story God has for me.” Then again, my folks were part of that story. God knew how Mama would be.
“You are.” He gave me such a look of pride that my heart filled my chest cavity to the brim. “I believe one day God’ll make the paths straight. Just keep praying.”
“I will.” I’d pray as soon as I got home. Maybe I just wasn’t letting Mama know how much her so-called suggestions bothered me.
“You feeling better?”
“Yep.”
He gave me a cagey grin. “Then want to race?”
“To the sign?” I leaned forward, already getting into position.
“Yep.”
“You’re on.” I squeezed Dorcus’s sides and whooped as she took off, leaving Tuck behind.
Of course, he wouldn’t stay there. Tuck loved competition, and we’d been racing since we learned how to ride. The wind blew across my face, and I looked over my shoulder. Tuck rode low over Jedidiah, and he neared Dorcus’s hindquarters. Pretty soon he’d be in the lead if I didn’t urge the mare to go faster.
“Come on, girl,” I whispered.
Her ears flickered backward, and she surged forward. Before I knew it, we’d come to the subdivision sign ahead of Tuck and Jedidiah. I threw my hands into the air, cheering as we came to a canter, then slowed to a stop.
Tuck shook his head. “Had no idea Dorcus had it in her.”
“Ha! That’s what you get for underestimating her.” I rubbed her side, murmuring encouraging words.
“Such a good girl,” I whispered. “You showed them.”
It was my hope that Dream would do the same thing. Continue to show up, race after race, and beat the odds.
“Want to race back?” Tuck asked.
“No way. I’m going out on top, Tucker Hale. You won’t take my win from me.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You’re so suspicious.”
“Am I?” I arched an eyebrow. Tuck was always trying to race again after I beat him.
I would end this day on a good note. Spending time with him, eating delicious food with his folks ... It would keep me from dwelling on the things I couldn’t change.
“All right, then. We’ll head back. I’m sure Mom is ready to serve the dessert.”
“I hope she made her bourbon pound cake.” Living in Kentucky, you could figure out how to add bourbon to just about anything. But the way Tuck’s mom made her pound cake was divine. You got the taste of the bourbon without the effects of alcohol. I considered it a win.
“Fine. Race you there,” I called over my shoulder, laughing as Tuck yelled, “No fair!”