Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
JULIE
“What time is the parade tomorrow?” Carson asks, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table.
“The same time it always is,” Jessie snorts, shaking her head at him. “10 a.m., and I’ll have Carly here at eight, so you can take her with you. I know everyone will be parking at the rodeo grounds beforehand.”
I nod, scraping my fork through mashed potatoes. “Yeah, I figure I’ll show up around nine, like usual.” I eye Tucker, who’s sitting quietly beside me, picking at his food in a way that makes me think something is wrong.
It’s probably because I’ve still not gotten him the deal. Ugh.
I haven’t even gotten it in motion. Of course, I’m working on a really tight timeframe. I should’ve considered that when I made my promise, but I blame the heat of the moment. Besides, I’ll come through for him. I know I will.
“We’re going ice skating this evening,” Jessie breaks the silence at the dinner table, glancing around. “We figured we’d extend the offer if anyone else would like to come along.”
“I don’t think I belong in ice skates,” Dad chuckles, shaking his head. “My back already hurts just thinking about it.”
“I’ll go,” Mom chimes, her smile growing. “I can’t promise I’ll be skating, but I can promise that I’ll take lots of pictures.”
“Hopefully of Carson falling,” I snip, shooting my brother a look.
He dishes it right back. “Maybe you should come along. We’ll have a friendly race.”
I hesitate, glancing over to Tucker, who still appears lost in thought. I don’t think he’s paying attention to anything. “I would go, but I kind of have a headache…” And I really need to talk to my dad alone.
“A headache?” Carson makes a face. “Take a Tylenol and get over it.”
“I can’t skate,” I say flatly. “You know I can’t ice skate.”
“The Tuck can hold your hand,” my brother smirks. “Ain’t that right, Tuck? You’re gonna go with us tonight? Right?”
Tucker finally looks up from his plate, and the confused expression confirms that he hasn’t been listening. “Uh… Sure.” His gaze bounces to me, and I shoot him a dirty look.
“I don’t want to go ice skating,” I level with him, keeping a smile on my face while wishing I could swat him for getting lost in his green beans. “I can’t ice skate.”
“I can,” he says, giving me a soft smile. “I can help you.”
I don’t want your help, I want to say to him. I need the alone time with my dad to pitch this stupid deal. It’s really too bad that Tucker isn’t a mind reader, because he just stares at me. “Sounds great,” I force out. “I can’t wait.”
Tucker grins like he just did something really phenomenal, and I spend the rest of my dinner forcing my food down my throat. However, as I steal looks over at him, he appears lost in his thoughts all over again. His eyes are focused on his plate, and I realize that he’s done more rearranging of his food rather than eating it.
“We’ll clean up and let you all go finish chores,” Mom says to the guys on our behalf. “Then we’ll all get around to go try out this new ice-skating thing.”
“You can come help feed,” Carson nods to Tucker. “It’ll speed up the process.”
“Sure thing,” Tucker gives me a half-hearted smile, and then follows Carson and my dad as they head out of the room. I scoop up plates alongside my mom and Jessie, while Carly picks up the silverware.
“My mama makes my daddy help clean up dinner,” Carly lets out an overly pained sigh, giving myself and my mom a look. “I don’t know why he doesn’t have to help here.” Her bottom lip pooches out, and my mom laughs.
“Well, I’m all for them helping, but if they finish up chores while we clean up here, then we’ll be able leave sooner to go skating.”
“Grammy is right,” Jessie chimes, squeezing her daughter’s shoulder. “We can leave sooner if Daddy, Gramps, and Tucker finish feeding the animals first. Besides, we’ll be done in no time if we all work together.”
She seems to mull it over for a few moments, her nose crinkled. “I guess that’s okay then.”
I laugh to myself, and start rinsing the dishes, handing them to Jessie to load the dishwasher. My mind wanders to Tucker’s blank expression during dinner, and I’m back to pondering what’s going through his head right now. Is he regretting this? I mean, based on the tiff in the barn, I know he’s reconsidering the deal.
However, the more I linger on Tucker, the more I start to ponder the past between us. I don’t remember much about our past—other than he was Nate’s best friend. Nate kept Tucker at a distance when it came to our relationship, and we only knew each other through passing…
Or was there more? I rack my brain but give it up once the dishes are done and we all part ways to get ready. It’s funny how the past works, how we remember certain aspects so clearly and then seem to forget the rest. That’s how I feel right now as I change into a fresh pair of dark wash jeans, and a red sweater with white snowflakes. It’s festive and warm , since just the thought of the cold temperature outside already has me shivering.
I smooth my blonde hair out, dab on mascara, and call it good. After all, I have no one to impress, right? Tucker won’t care if I show up in sweatpants and a holey sweater. He might not care if I show up at all. Speaking of… I hear his door open and close across the hall.
Grabbing my crossbody purse, I slip out of my room and knock on his door, not wanting to encounter him half-naked again. I tap my boot on the floor, waiting to see if he even comes to the door at all. Just when I’m about to give up, it swings open, and there’s Tucker, wearing a nice black button up with jeans and his shiny belt buckle.
“What’s up?” he asks me, like I might be inquiring if he has car insurance or something.
“Um…” My voice trails off as I study his face. “I was just wondering how chores went with my brother and dad…”
“Fine,” he says. “We fed everything and then came back here.”
I nod, wringing my hands in front of myself. “Are you okay?” I finally blurt out, concern riddling my voice. “You seem off, and if it’s about the deal, I promise I’ll talk to my dad. I was going to tonight—that’s why I said I didn’t want to go ice-skating…”
His head bobs slowly, assumingly taking in my word vomit. “You wanna come in for second and talk?—”
“Come on, everyone!” Carson’s voice echoes through the house, and a sheepish smile stretches across my face.
“Guess we can talk on the way there…”
“Yeah,” Tucker mutters, and then gestures for me to go ahead. My shoulders fall as I head for the stairs, borderline annoyed at the timing. However, as I hit the bottom step and see everyone in the foyer, I make sure I appear pleasant.
“I figure we can all ride together,” Carson says. “We just got a new Suburban. Mom can ride in the backseat with Carly, and then you two can take the third backseat.”
“Tucker can drive us,” I argue.
“No way,” Carson argues. “This is a family affair.”
“Apparently,” Tucker grumbles.
“Oh, it’ll be fun,” Mom beams, wearing her Rudolph sweater with the blinking nose. “We can sing Christmas carols on the way.”
“Yay!” Carly jumps up and down, and dives for my hand, tugging me toward the door. “It’s going to be so much fun.”
I glance back to Tucker, who looks like he might throw up. For some reason, despite everything, it makes me laugh. I’m really putting him through the ringer…
And he’s taking it in stride, mostly.
All six of us pile into Jessie’s white suburban, and Tucker’s knees end up in his chest with what little room there is for his six-foot-something frame. However, he doesn’t complain. He just shoots me a playful glare.
“You’re such a good sport,” I lean in and whisper as Carson pulls out of the driveway.
He grunts in response, and then jumps at the blaring Frosty the Snowman suddenly playing through the speakers. My mom and Carly sing at the top of their lungs, and Tucker and I exchange a glance before bursting into laughter.
“I guess I should’ve warned you my family is crazy,” I tell him, having to lean against him and nearly shout in his ear for him to hear me.
“It’s okay,” he says, chuckling and throwing an arm around my shoulders. He pulls me into him the best he can with the seatbelts, and I start to feel giddy.
If only this was real.
My joy slowly drains from my chest, and I peer up at Tucker, suddenly desperate to commit this moment to my memory. Tucker glances down at me, catching me staring. He holds my gaze, his brows creasing slightly as he tries to understand what I’m doing.
“Put on my favorite song,” Mom calls up to Carson, and I rip my eyes from Tucker, paying attention to the song about to play. White Christmas starts to fill the speakers, and Tucker groans. I jab him in the ribs, and he laughs.
“You don't like this?” Mom turns to Tucker, giving him a playful sad face. “This is one of the best songs ever made.”
Tucker nods sheepishly. “I’m sure it is. I don’t have great taste in music, probably.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s okay. We’ll let this one slide… I suppose.” Mom then turns back and begins to sing her heart out—and this time I join in, ignoring the amusingly taunting expression on Tucker’s face.
We spend the rest of the drive singing songs, and I let myself enjoy the way it feels to have Tucker’s arm around me, like this is something real… Like I’m not putting on the biggest show of my life. Though, I have to admit, beneath the facade, I’m starting to question the emotions forming. It’s almost like…
It’s almost like I can picture myself, not only with someone, but with him.