“Right. I’ll be sure to do that in the future.” I can’t help the sarcasm that enters my voice. According to my therapist, it’s a self-defense mechanism to keep people away in order not to get hurt. And while she tried to teach me coping mechanisms that don’t lead to potentially hurting other people, the breathing exercises don’t always work.
After all, it’s easier to lash out and hurt other people than deal with your own hurt.
“Montana, you know you don’t have the best track record when it comes to making smart decisions.” He doesn’t bat an eye at my comment, instead he tries to reason with me in a softer voice. I know what he’s trying to do, but all he does it make matters worse. “You need to give Kade a break, he’ll come around once he knows you aren’t that girl anymore.”
I understand he’s trying to help me understand where they’re coming from, the problem is I understand, but they don’t understand what where I’m coming from. How can they? Not one of them bothered to ask me about it. They took what was said at face value, so of course they base their judgement on what they believe is the truth. No one’s ever given me a break.
Rationally, I know I should tell them what really happened. They wouldn’t judge me quite as harshly if they knew, but part of me wants them to ask me about it. Is it too much to ask my family to give enough of a shit about me to maybe question what’s been said about me? To at least ask me about it? I just want them to care enough to talk to me about the whole situation. I just want to be worth enough to be granted the benefit of the doubt.
“Right,” I concede. I don’t see the point of arguing about this.
He smiles, genuinely happy, probably thinking his words will make a difference, but for that to happen I need him to care, which looks more and more unlikely. “Good. Because I have to be honest, there isn’t really another vet anywhere close for you to bring Whisky to, unless you go to Butte or Helena, but neither one of them is as good as him.”
“Okay. The joy of small towns.” I avert my gaze and stare at the countertop, hoping he can’t tell how upset him choosing Kade’s side over mine has made me.
“He’ll come around, honey. He just doesn’t know you yet.”
I let the tension ebb from my body, realizing none of them know me. They know the person the media portrays, the small bits and pieces I let them see. While I might never show them the real me, keeping up this facade of indifference is exhausting.
“None of you do,” I mutter, not sure if I want him to hear me or not.
When his rough hand lands on mine I know he’s heard my words. “You’re right, we don’t, but if you give us a chance, we’d all like to get to know you.” He gently squeezes my hand underneath his. “My little girl is still somewhere in there, I’m sure. I don’t believe Veronika ruined everything that’s you.”
His words melt the ball of ice inside of me yesterday’s fight caused. Maybe it’s silly, but him thinking I’m still his little girl, even if only deep down, starts to heal some of the open gashes on my spirit given to me by too many people.
And if anyone would know what my mother’s like it would be him.
A small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “She tried her hardest.” I take a cleansing breath, letting the rest of the tension in my neck and shoulders go. “I like Lauren though. She seems nice.”
“She is.” I notice how his shoulders relax, and he matches my smile with one of his own, except his is more carefree. “I have a feeling y’all could make great friends, if you give her a chance.”
“Maybe. If her baked goods are as good as you’re all saying, I’ll have to stop by sometime.”
He finally takes a sip of his coffee, seemingly without a care in the world now that he talked to me. “How are you feeling today?”
“A lot better. I woke up not in quite as much pain. I take that as a win.”
“That’s good. You’ll be healed in no time. It takes a lot more to take an Oakley down.” He winks, a boyish charm I haven’t seen the last few days shines through that one gesture.
“I hope you’re right.” I smile, finally letting myself relax and enjoy being around my father. What I don’t say though is that I haven’t felt like an Oakley since I was ten, but for the first time in fourteen years I feel like maybe I’m slowly discovering that part of myself again.
“What are you up to today?” I ask after the silence between us stretches for a while, and I start to feel uncomfortable.
“I moved the heifers to the field closest to home since calving season is fast approaching. But I think I’m going to give Lucifer a lesson this afternoon. Once the temperature has heated up slightly.”
My eyes widen in excitement. I was hoping he might. “Do you mind if I come watch?”
His head tips to the side, and he studies me for a moment. For the first time since I got here genuine excitement races through me. There’s nothing more exciting to
