Chapter 16 #2
I step back into the hall, close her door quietly behind me, and lean against the wall for a moment. Taking it all in.
Once I crawl into bed, the weight of the day settles in, but all I can think about is tonight. A smile tugs at my lips as I replay the moments in my mind.
It’s been so long since I’ve crawled into bed, this bed, without tears trailing down my face. But tonight? Tonight is different.
* * *
The next morning, I wake to Riley curled up in bed with me, her little hand resting against my arm, her breath slow and warm. She must have snuck in sometime during the night, tiptoeing across the hallway and climbing under the covers like she’s done before.
The sun’s pouring through the window, painting streaks of gold across my white bedsheets. It’s warm and soft, casting that dreamy morning glow that makes everything feel a little quieter. A little calmer.
I blink slowly, stretching my legs beneath the blanket, careful not to wake her just yet. Her bunny is tucked in beside her like always, one arm thrown over his frayed little ear. Her curls are a mess, fanned across the pillow like a halo.
I brush a strand of hair off her cheek and lean in to kiss the top of her head. She stirs, her lips parting as she makes a soft sleepy sound.
“Mommy?” she whispers, still half-asleep.
“I’m here, baby,” I whisper back, tucking the blanket around her a little tighter. “Go back to sleep, okay?”
She hums and burrows deeper into the pillow. I lie there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, letting the peace of the moment settle over me like a second blanket.
Last night plays on a loop in my head.
Eventually, I slip out of bed, careful not to disturb her. I pad down the hallway and peek into the living room where Mindy is passed out on the couch, one leg hanging off the side, wrapped in the throw blanket she always claims as hers.
I walk into the kitchen and start brewing the coffee, the rich scent filling the kitchen as the machine hums to life. A soft breeze floats in through the open back door, warm with that early summer crispness, the kind that makes you want to linger outside for no reason at all.
I step out onto the porch, mug in hand, and dial my dad.
He picks up after the second ring. “Morning, Viv.”
“Hey, Dad. How are you feeling?” I ask, settling onto the porch swing as the sunlight stretches across the yard.
“Much better, thank you,” he replies, his voice already sounding lighter than it did the other day. “How’ve you been?”
There’s something about his tone. Slightly amused. A little too curious.
God. He knows.
Of course he does.
I press the heel of my hand to my forehead. “You know, don’t you?”
He snickers. “Riley told me last night when I called to check on you two. She was very excited about it too. Said, and I quote, ‘she went out with the cowboy who makes her smile.’’”
I groan softly but can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. That girl.
“She was really happy about it,” I admit, swirling the coffee in my mug. “Honestly…I am too. Last night was…really good.”
A pause.
Then his voice softens. “I’m happy to hear that, darling.”
I take a sip, letting the warmth settle through me.
“I’ll pop by tomorrow before your shift,” he continues. “Want to hear all about your night. Got to go, hon, got things to sort in the garage.”
I roll my eyes, smiling into the rim of my mug. “All right, I’ll be ready. And I’ll give little miss nosy a kiss for you.”
He chuckles. “Love you, Viv.”
“Love you too, Dad.” I hang up.
The back door creaks open behind me.
I glance over my shoulder just in time to see Mindy shuffle out like a hungover gremlin, hair a chaotic mess and the blanket she slept with still draped around her like a cape. She’s rubbing her eyes, muttering something that sounds like never again under her breath.
I raise an eyebrow. “Rough night?”
She groans, flopping down onto the porch swing beside me. “I think I OD’d on sugar. Riley and I crushed half a bag of marshmallows, three packs of gummy bears, and an entire bowl of popcorn.”
I laugh into my coffee. “You’re just as bad as a five-year-old.”
“Worse,” she grumbles. “At least she fell asleep at a reasonable hour. I was up watching The Princess Diaries and braiding her doll’s hair until you got home.”
“She really roped you in, huh?”
Mindy groans again. “She’s terrifying when she wants something. And I love her too much to say no.”
I nudge her with my elbow. “She’s lucky to have you.”
Behind us, the sound of tiny feet echoes down the hallway.
“Round two,” Mindy mutters.
And sure enough, Riley bursts out the door with bunny in one hand and a granola bar in the other, already mid-story about her dream where she rode a unicorn through a jelly bean sky.
Mindy groans. “Nope. Not ready for this.”
I laugh. “Better keep up. You started the sugar spiral.”
“God help me.”
And just like that, our little porch becomes a mess of giggles, granola crumbs, and sunshine.
“Come on, Mommy!” Riley calls, already galloping through the hallway like her life depends on it.
I sigh. There’s no way I can resist her. So I grab the nearest pillow, toss it under me like a saddle, and ride my fake pony through the living room, both of us howling with laughter like a couple of unhinged cowboys.
We probably look ridiculous.
Scratch that, we definitely do.
My phone buzzes just as I’m mid-neigh.
Miles: Morning. Was just wondering—we’ve got a couple of horses at Greg’s ranch today. Would you and Riley like to come?
Riley would lose her mind over a ranch day. Animals, ponies, fresh air? It’s basically her dream come true. And honestly, after last night…I wouldn’t mind seeing him again either.
Vivian: Morning, yeah that sounds like fun. Riley will love it. Can Mindy join?
Miles: Of course. Greg will be happy about that hahah…
Of course he will. That man’s got it bad.
Vivian: He definitely will be lol. Send me the address and time.
Miles: Iron Hill Ranch, 146 Meadowridge Lane. Come by around noon. I’ll be waiting Bambi.
I smile down at the message, heart skipping for reasons I don’t want to admit out loud.
“Was that the cowboy?” Mindy’s voice teases from the kitchen, her head poking out like she already knows the answer.
“Yep,” I reply, holding up my phone. “We’re going to Iron Hill Ranch today. Play day with ponies and Greg.”
Mindy perks up.
Riley’s eyes light up from across the room. “Did you say ponies?”
I laugh, hands on my hips, surveying the mess of pillows, stuffed animals, glittery headbands, and plastic ponies scattered across the living room like a tornado rolled through.
“All right, let’s clean up this pigsty, ladies. ’Cause later, we’ve got a ranch to ride off to.”
Riley lets out a high-pitched squeak that could shatter glass.
“Yay!” She twirls once before dropping to her knees and frantically starts gathering her toys like the floor is lava. And of course, instead of making several trips like a sane person, she tries to scoop every single item into her arms at once.
Just like her mother. Stubborn and chaotic in the most endearing way.
“I can carry it all, Mommy,” she grunts, wobbling under the weight of two Barbies, a cowboy hat, three books, a glittery makeup kit, and a plastic pony missing a leg.
Mindy snorts from the kitchen, tossing snack wrappers into the bin, remnants from last night’s sugar bender with Riley. “You two are an absolute circus. I’ve seen frat houses cleaner than this.”
“Oh, please,” I shoot back, holding up a pair of neon pink sunglasses I find tangled in a throw blanket. “You were out here living your best life in a tiara last night. Don’t act innocent.”
She shrugs. “Guilty. And I stand by my fashion choices.”
I roll my eyes, smiling, and start gathering the trail of clothes Riley clearly used for dress-up, my blouse, a tutu, and what I think was supposed to be a superhero cape—which is actually one of Mindy’s scarves. “Is this my bra hanging off the doorknob?”
Riley giggles from across the room. “It was my lasso!”
I pause and blink. “I’m not even mad. That’s creative.”
“You’re raising a legend,” Mindy calls out with a wink.
We all move around each other in a well-practiced rhythm—chaotic, but somehow it works. Toy bins get refilled, cushions reshaped, and by the time the last Barbie is tucked away, and the sparkly headbands are back in their basket, the place actually looks semi-livable again.
Riley dusts her hands like she just conquered Mount Everest. “Mission complete!” she declares proudly.
I scoop her up and plant a kiss on her cheek, “You’re the best helper ever.”
She beams. “I know.”
“Okay, let’s get changed,” I say, turning to Riley. “You can wear your red and white cross-stitch jeans with your cowgirl boots, and I’ll wear mine so we can match.”
I’ve always had a soft spot for dressing us in matching outfits.
There’s just something sweet about having my own little mini-me to play dress-up with.
The elderly ladies in town eat it up every time we’re out running errands, cooing over us in the aisles at the grocery store like we’re the day’s entertainment.
It’s silly, but it always makes our morning feel a little brighter.
Her face lights up like a firework. “Matching with Mommy, yay!” she squeals, then takes off up the stairs like she’s on a mission from God.
Mindy, still lounging at the counter with her third coffee of the morning, pouts. “Wait a second. What about me? I only brought underwear thinking I was going home today.” She shoots me a wide-eyed look. “Help me, Viv. I’m underdressed and emotionally vulnerable.”
I laugh and loop my arm through hers. “Come on, drama queen. I’ve got something for you too.”
Twenty minutes later—miraculously fast, considering our usual pace—we’re ready and looking damn good, if I do say so myself.
Riley is skipping away in circles at the bottom of the stairs, her hair bouncing away with every skip. Her little boots are slightly scuffed from her last rodeo-themed birthday party, but they still do the job.
I’m in my own version of her outfit, a more grown-up take, with a red gingham blouse tucked into denim shorts, boots on, hair loosely curled, and a smile I didn’t expect to be wearing today because of Miles and, of course, a cowgirl hat.
And as for Mindy, she’s standing in front of the hallway mirror, adjusting the light green top I loaned her, exposing her collarbone that has her stay wild tattoo.
Her jean shorts expose a little bit of her lower stomach and paired with my spare cowgirl boots to complete the look.
The green makes her red hair practically glow.
“Okay, wow,” I say, taking her in. “You look like you just stepped out of a country music video.”
She grins, as she finishes applying her lip gloss. “I feel like a hot Southern debutante who drinks whiskey straight and breaks hearts by accident.”
“More like on purpose,” I mutter, grabbing my purse. “Come on, let’s go.”
And just like that, we’re out the door, boots on, hearts open, and ready for whatever the day brings.