Chapter 7
The Damn Oven
This time when I step into the Autry’s home for Sunday dinner, I’m prepared. Prepared to stand my ground with Miles, not react to his disdain, and smile no matter what happens. No more being caught off guard. He may not want me here, but I’m here to stay. At least until the cabin is finished.
This time, however, there are two additions. Miles stands in the other doorway perpendicular to mine, leaning up against the door frame as Parker grabs two beers from the fridge.
I immediately feel too dressed up in my yellow, off the shoulder sundress and heeled boots.
Miles and Parker are in dusty jeans and t-shirts that look like they’ve been baking out in the sun for a few years.
Smoothing down the sides of my dress, I dig deep for a confident smile and step into the kitchen.
I make it exactly one step before Isabella yells out.
“Katie! There you are. We are so glad you could come, with your busy schedule,” she beams.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I smile. “I’m so grateful you asked me back.”
“Oh of course, of course,” she says, taking off her oven gloves.
“I think the boys are just watching the baseball game in the living room. You’re welcome to join them.
I’m afraid Walter and I won’t be very interesting company today.
” Walter looks much more subdued than last time I saw him.
His eyes droop a bit like he’s tired, and his breathing is a little labored.
“Okay, sounds good,” I say, turning to Miles and Parker.
“Yeah, come sit with us, Kate,” Parker says, grinning. “We’d love the company.” I try my hardest not to look over at Miles, but I can feel him standing in the doorway, looking at me. I nod at Parker, who grabs another beer and transfers them all to one hand.
“Mac,” Miles offers as a form of greeting. His voice is low and gravelly. His shoulders are slumped, and I can just make out dark circles under his eyes. And yet, fireworks still pass between us the second he utters his nickname for me.
Parker offers his arm to me to escort me into the living room, so I take it. By the time we turn to the doorway to the living room, Miles is turned around. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“So, how goes the cabin construction? No other wildlife related obstacles, I hope?” Parker asks, sitting on the long leather sofa. I sit on the other side, while Miles opts for the chair furthest away from me.
“No, no more animals barging in. Although, I wouldn’t exactly call ranch cows wildlife,” I say, relaxing a little into the couch.
I’m not sure what it is about Parker, but I feel like I can let my guard down a little bit.
It feels like I’ve known him for years. I get the feeling he’s everyone’s best friend around here.
“They’re pretty wild. And they are definitely alive,” Parker shrugs.
“That’s possibly the dumbest thing that has ever come out of your mouth,” Miles grumbles from his solitude, fighting back a smile. It almost makes me smile too, hearing him joke for once.
“Hey, don’t act like you’re not the dad joke king over there,” Parker snaps back.
“Oh really?” I laugh. “King of dad jokes, huh? I’m not sure I believe that. I don’t think I’ve seen him so much as crack a smile since I got here.”
“Well see, you’ve got to catch him in the right mood these days.
He likes family dinners, so he lightens up a bit.
Trust me, he used to be much less of a stick in the mud in his youth.
You and I are still young and spry, much more fun than senior citizen Miles and his get-off-my-lawn ways.
” Miles rolls his eyes as Parker laughs at his own jokes.
I’ve got to say, I’m a big Parker fan after our last couple of interactions.
“They say it comes with the AARP membership,” I joke, earning another cackle from Parker. I look over at Miles just in time to see the corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. Got him.
“So Katie, you hail from mighty Idaho?” Parker takes another swig of his beer, eyes still glued to the baseball game on tv.
“I do,” Miles must have told him where I’m from. I wonder what else he said about me. Nothing good, I’m sure. “I’m from a small lake town called Juniper Ridge. On Bear Lake.”
“I’ve heard of it. Never been though, always wanted to. Is it true the lake is clear and turquoise?” Parker asks.
“Yep, the rumors are true. It’s my favorite place in the world,” I say as flashes of Juniper Ridge light up my mind. Turquoise lake, purple mountain wildflowers, blue skies.
“Is that where your family is?” Parker asks.
“Um no,” I fidget a bit in my spot. “I actually moved in with my aunt when I was 10. She’s my only family there. My parents are in Tennessee.”
“Right on,” he replies, setting my nerves at ease. No follow up questions. Good.
I look over at Miles, laying back in the chair watching the game.
His dark hair pokes out through the bottom of his baseball cap, and my brain sends me an unwanted memory.
My hands raking through his hair as he pushes me up against the hotel room door, his hands on my hips.
I clear my throat, letting the images vanish from my mind.
As if he can see my thoughts, Miles catches my eye with an intense stare.
I can’t pull my eyes away, trapped in his gaze.
My cheeks heat, giving me away again. His jaw ticks once and he turns away, taking a swig of beer.
Suddenly self-conscious, I tuck my hair behind my ears, smoothing out the ends.
“What about you, are you from Wyoming?” I turn towards Parker. His bright blue eyes seem to smile.
“Nope, I’m from Whidbey Island. Tiny little place in Puget Sound up in the Pacific Northwest. I found my way out here by accident and stayed,” he says.
I smile and nod as Parker talks a bit about his hometown, coming out to Jackson Hole for the rodeo, then staying to work on the ranch years ago.
I can’t concentrate. All I can think about is Miles, sitting in the same room as me, not saying a word.
Four years ago we were laughing together, his lips on mine, his hands on my waist. It feels like a lifetime ago, but then again, it also feels like yesterday. Now that he’s here, in the flesh, I remember it all so clearly. I’m not quite sure why it has stuck with me after all this time.
“Miles, would you come help me with the damn oven?” Isabella shouts from the kitchen, a series of clanging ringing through the air.
Miles gets up from the chair, shoots me one last glance, and walks through the doorway to the kitchen.
I accidentally let out a small sigh of relief and hope Parker didn’t catch it.
“Listen,” Parker starts, leaning towards me speaking softly.
“I’d never tell you what to do or anything, but I’d suggest giving Oscar the Grouch a bit of a break.
He’s been a little extra grumpy lately. Lots of not so fun things going on for him lately.
For the past five years, if I’m being honest. But worse this year.
” Parker gives me a sympathetic smile. “All I’m saying is, I know he can be an ass sometimes, but he means well.
He’s a good guy. Doesn’t deserve the hand he’s been dealt.
Just have a little patience with him and he’ll come around. ”
“Yeah, okay,” I stutter. I’m a bit taken back by Parker’s little speech.
What does he mean by lots going on for Miles lately? And for the past five years? We met four years ago and he seemed fine. Happy even. What could possibly be so bad for Miles that Parker feels the need to apologize for him?
I set my questions aside for now. I can’t get too invested into this. I’m here to do a job, not investigate Miles’s problems. When Miles comes back into the living room, it’s all I can do to not analyze his mood.
He catches me staring once more, but instead of looking away flustered, I force myself to give him a small smile. He nods back at me, then turns to the game once more. I suppose I can be civil.
Dinner at the Autry’s is a series of stories told by Isabella, comedy sprinkled in by Parker, and many, many questions about my plans with the ranch cabin.
I’m not used to discussing a project with outsiders while it’s still in construction, but I find myself sharing some of my design ideas, stories from the first week of construction, and even taking suggestions from Isabella on paint colors.
They’re an easy group to talk to. I find myself wondering if this is what it’s like at real family dinners.
Walter is pretty quiet compared to the last time I was here. But, he’s smiling almost constantly, nodding along, listening to all of us talk. He radiates a warmth I didn’t know was possible for a person to have. I wonder how it didn’t rub off a bit on Miles.
Miles, on the other hand, sits quietly across from me at the table barely touching his food. To my surprise, all of the men took their hats off before dinner. Something about a no hats at the table rule on the ranch.
Miles has a touch of hat hair, but for the most part looks annoyingly better without the baseball cap. I didn’t notice before, but his beard has been trimmed short since I saw him last leaving just a bit of stubble.
“–do you think, Katie?” Isabella is saying as I snap out of my trance. I drop my fork like it’s on fire, tearing my gaze away from Miles as quickly as I possibly can.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” I ask, eyes wide. I hear a muffled chuckle from Parker to my right.
“Oh I was just wondering if you think we could contribute a few items that have been on the ranch for a few generations to your cabin. It could add a bit of history to it. It would mean a lot to Walt and I to have a piece of our family in the cabin even though we don’t own it anymore,” Isabella smiles.
“Of course,” I say. “Yes, I’d love to. Send me a few photos of what you’re thinking of including and I’ll find a spot, I promise.” Now there’s a good idea. I can mention the cabin includes original decorations from the ranch in the listing too, of course.
“I’m just so excited to see the old cabin come to life again. I’m afraid we let it go unused for far too long,” she says, tucking a piece of silvery hair behind her ear.
“Katie’s doing a great job with it so far, Mom.
Just this week she replanted the garden in the back.
You’d be proud,” Miles says. The sound of his voice makes me jump a little bit.
Did he just compliment me? He has spent this entire dinner sulking, not eating, not talking.
And now I’m doing a great job with the cabin?
The same one I heard him tell his parents he didn’t want me to have?
“Maybe I’ll stop by and see it next week,” Isabella says, clearly not noticing anything unusual about her son’s sudden change of heart. “If that’s okay with you, of course.” Everyone turns to look at me, waiting for my response.
I nod, “Of course. Come by anytime.”
Walter asks Parker about the recent cattle branding days, and the conversation switches gears.
I look up from my plate to find Miles looking at me already.
This time, his stare isn’t cold or intimidating.
It’s more neutral than anything, with just a hint of understanding.
One side of his mouth twitches upward in a tiny, half-smile before he looks away.
I’m not sure what just happened, but maybe Parker is right. Maybe I should give Miles a chance. After all, I’ve seen what he’s like when he’s happy, and I liked it. A lot. Somewhere underneath the gruff exterior, I’m willing to bet that guy is still in there.
A bright ball of light forms in my chest, forcing a smile onto my face. It starts out like this, just a little glow.
Ready to grow with just a little bit of a push.
Hope.