Chapter Fourteen
A couple of days later, Jesse picked Oscar up from school. His son scowled when he saw him, but hopped into his truck.
“Are you making sure that I don’t walk home again?” Oscar said, slouching in the seat.
Jesse counted to ten before he answered. “I thought we could work on the house this evening.”
Oscar turned his head away to look out the window. “I’m surprised you trust me with a paintbrush.”
Jesse put the truck in Drive. “Of course, I trust you.”
“Then why won’t you let me go on the trip this weekend?”
Jesse gritted his teeth. They had been having this argument for the past few days.
“I trust you,” Jesse repeated. “But what if the crowd will be too much—”
“Carly said her cousin and her fiancée will be there, didn’t she? If it gets to be too much, I’ll ask them to bring me home. Or I’ll let Coach Finn know.”
Jesse really regretted Oscar overhearing him tell Grayson that Carly had offered her cousin’s services.
Oscar had been relentless about his request to go with the team ever since.
The thing was no one saw how bad his son could get because he wasn’t severely autistic.
Jesse had and he worried that despite all the reassurances, they wouldn’t be able to handle him.
Oscar was already struggling with making friends in school.
In a town as small as Tenacity, it’d break Jesse’s heart if Oscar was ostracized.
“Let’s focus on the house today, okay?” he practically pleaded.
Oscar didn’t answer or say anything else for the rest of the drive.
One of Oscar’s favorite songs from his childhood came on the radio.
He used to hum to it loudly from the back seat when he was a kid.
Now there was nothing but the sound of the beat competing with the crunch of the dirt road under their tires.
Oscar wasn’t a kid anymore. But that didn’t stop him from stomping into the room that would eventually be his as soon as they reached the house. He probably would have slammed his door, but it wasn’t installed yet.
Jesse ran a hand over his face before he went into the living room to get started.
He grabbed the broom and began sweeping up the remaining construction debris.
He wanted to get the house done. Everything felt so unsettled at the moment—like their lives were on pause until they could get their own roof over their heads.
Jesse put the broom away and got out the paint cans.
He felt like he and Oscar were struggling so much lately.
It was another reason Jesse was determined to get the house done.
They were surviving off Jesse’s job doing remote IT analytical work and the nest egg he’d saved over the years, but he was counting down the minutes until he could get back to ranching.
He was restless for it. He wanted to get Oscar immersed into that life.
It’d be good for him and give him an emotional outlet. It’d be good for Jesse too.
He needed to feel the open air again throughout his day instead of staring at numbers on a computer until his eyes crossed.
If he could take the mental stress of getting the house done off his plate, then maybe he could work on fixing his fraying relationship with his son.
He might also find a way to make things better between him and Carly so she’d never doubt him again.
The other day Grayson had brought up the idea of him and Jesse joining forces instead of having two separate ranches. Jesse liked the idea, especially as Grayson already had an established reputation in the industry. They’d have to discuss it more, but it was something to think about.
At the moment, he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make any huge decisions about the future. Aside from the tension between him and Oscar, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d almost blown it with Carly.
As he looked over at the tiny kitchen, he couldn’t help but think how much MaryBeth would have hated it.
One of the reasons they’d bought the house in Houston was because of the large kitchen, which was MaryBeth’s domain.
Of course, she was perfectly happy living in the big city.
She’d thrived on it, even if they were more in the suburbs.
I don’t want to have to drive thirty miles just to get laundry detergent, she’d argued during one of their fights after Jesse brought up moving back to the country one day.
She’d never wanted this kind of life. It was such a difference from Carly, who’d deliberately sought out the same lifestyle he had.
No, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t compare the two. It was unfair to both of them.
As Jesse opened the can of paint and stirred it with the wood stick, he thought back to his last date with Carly.
He couldn’t believe he’d gotten everything so wrong.
He thought it would be best to take things slow, to show her how committed he was.
Instead, all he’d done was make her feel insecure about his intentions.
Though the end results of their conversation had been worth it. He could still feel the plumpness of her lip as he’d sucked it into his mouth. He could hear the moans she made, feel the way she arched against him.
Jesse dropped the stick into the can of paint and swore as it started to sink.
He needed to stop thinking about those kisses before he embarrassed himself in front of his son.
After rescuing the stick, he poured the paint into the awaiting pan.
He grabbed a roller and started painting the wall, getting into a methodical rhythm as the drywall transformed into a creamy blue.
An hour later, he was starting to feel more relaxed as he worked off some tension, when he heard a crash in the other room. Jesse dropped the roller and ran to where Oscar was. Yellow paint had spilled all over the floor. Thankfully they hadn’t installed the carpet yet.
Oscar was pacing back and forth in the paint, leaving footprints everywhere he stepped, his hands clenching and unclenching. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept saying like a broken record.
“It’s okay,” Jesse replied, knowing that Oscar was stimming too much to calm down with mere words.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Oscar repeated.
“Bud, it’s okay.” Jesse didn’t try to touch him. He wouldn’t unless Oscar started to hurt himself, which he used to do when he was younger. “Why don’t we take a break and get some dinner.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“Hey,” Jesse said as calmly as he could. “I need some fresh air after all the paint fumes, and I brought your favorite sandwich—ham and mayo, just the way you like it.”
Oscar’s frantic pacing started to slow.
“I even bought a bag of JenniLynn’s homemade cookies, but don’t tell her I took a few.”
“Cookies?” his son finally said. Jesse’s heart shattered at the broken expression on his face.
“Yeah, the chocolate-chip ones, which I know are your favorite. Come on. Let’s go eat.”
He started to walk slowly out of the room and was relieved when Oscar followed him. He’d trek paint throughout the house, but that was fine. It was all wood boards anyway. They’d be covered up.
The duo walked outside and headed toward the truck. Jesse opened the back of the truck and reached inside for the cooler he’d packed earlier. Oscar sat down on the gate. Jesse put the food between them and sat on the other side.
They ate in silence for several minutes, before Jesse broached the subject. “Was that about this weekend?”
“I… I guess,” Oscar replied, picking at a piece of bread.
“Talk to me,” Jesse encouraged.
“I’m tired of not having any friends and feeling like a freak.”
“You’re not a freak,” Jesse insisted.
“Aren’t I?” Oscar looked at him with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. “Because the rest of the team gets to go, and both the coach and Carly have told you that I’ll be in safe hands, but I still can’t be like other kids.”
He looked so defeated. Jesse glanced away, toward the direction of Carly’s homestead.
He loves you, she’d said. I know he does—but do you ever think that maybe you’re not giving him enough space to figure things out on his own?
Carly and Oscar were right. Oscar would never get to live the life Jesse wanted for him if he didn’t allow him to be more independent.
Jesse could keep him locked away like damned Rapunzel, or he could let him leave the tower and taste what others got to experience.
Because if Jesse didn’t give him a little bit of freedom, he had a feeling it’d only stress Oscar even worse.
“Okay…” he finally said before he could change his mind. “You can go.”
Oscar whipped his head to him. “What?”
“You can go,” Jesse said more firmly. “But I want you to text me when you get there, and you promise that you’ll tell Coach Finn if you start to feel even slightly off.”
“I will,” Oscar told him sincerely. He unexpectedly threw his arms around Jesse and hugged him. “Thanks, Dad.”
Oscar hopped off the truck and hurried inside the house. Jesse stared after him with worry and love vying for control of his limbic system. Oscar rarely liked being touched by others, let alone giving out hugs willingly. Jesse couldn’t remember the last time they had hugged. His heart melted.
Please let him be safe.
He scrunched up the wax paper he’d used to wrap up his sandwich. He was feeling uneasy and needed someone else’s assurance that he’d just done the right thing.
Jesse hopped off the tailgate and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Carly’s number and waited for her to answer.
“C’mon, baby,” he said before realizing the nickname that he’d given her. The call went to voicemail, and he hung up, shocked that baby had slipped out so easily.
He was getting in way over his head.
Jesse pulled up their text message chain and read the last one Carly sent him, stating that she’d planned on practicing with Nieve all week so she’d be prepared to perform for the Dinosaur Day Rodeo.
That was something else he worried a lot about.
Jesse knew that the rodeo was a huge part of Carly’s life, but he worried every time she brought it up.
He’d done his best to hide his concern and support any decisions she made for herself.
That didn’t stop him from wanting to go all caveman on her and tell her he didn’t want her returning to the circuit.
He would have too, if he didn’t think Carly would bust a rib laughing. She was not the type of woman to let a man make a decision for her—it was honestly part of her charm. Besides, he’d already almost blown their relationship. He was surprised she hadn’t already shown him to the door.
He couldn’t help but worry though whenever she talked about rodeo life.
There was a part of him that was scared she’d find the allure too much—especially once she was in front of the crowds again at the Dinosaur Days event—and she’d feel the urge to return to the road.
But that was nothing compared to what worried him the most.
He was terrified something would happen to Carly and she’d die just like MaryBeth had.
He hadn’t forgotten what Oscar had told him when they’d met her that first time.
Carly had been injured in the past year.
And though she brushed it off when he’d tried to bring up his concern, he knew people died doing what she did for a living.
It was just his luck, falling for someone who had a dangerous job.
He’d go out of his mind if he found a new chance at happiness, only for that love to be taken away again.
He doubted he’d be able to recover a second time.
“Dad,” Oscar called out. “What are we going to do about the mess?”
And wasn’t that the question of the century.