“Yeah, He’s only here for a day or two before his next rodeo. I don’t remember where it’s at, though.” Bob is not a fan of rodeos, and even after all these years I still haven’t figured out why. But the obvious contempt on his face every time it comes up speaks volumes.
“Well, this is going to be fun.” I’m not sure yet if I mean this in the actual sense of the word or sarcastically. “Let me put Lucifer back into his stall. I need to meet this guy in person.”
Bob only shakes his head, already knowing what’s about to go down. “Be nice, Mon.”
“I’m always nice,” I say with a straight face, which surprises even me. I don’t know why Kota brought her new boyfriend to meet me this soon. Usually she takes more time than this to prepare them. Or figure out if she actually likes them before she bothers to introduce them.
Which is when it hits me, she likes him.
Deeply.
She wouldn’t have brought him otherwise. She must either think I’ll end up liking him, or trust in his ability to put up with me.
Not waiting for a response, I turn, making sure not to spook the horse behind me. I pet and praise him for not moving—even when I could tell he wanted to—clip the lead onto his halter, and lead him out of the round pen toward his stall.
He follows me with his head lowered and relaxed.
Once I make sure his water is filled and gave him some oats as a treat, I leave the stall and stop at Whisky’s, only to see him face the other way, tail twitching in annoyance.
I clamp my lips together to not burst out laughing. “You’re being ridiculous, Whisky.” His only response is a snort and stomp, like the petulant child he can be sometimes. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told them at dinner the other day he gets jealous.
Resigning myself to another round of giving in to his behavior, something I probably shouldn’t do, I enter his stall, walk to the other end of the stall, and lean against the wall. And just like every other time we’ve gone through this he turns his head away.
Is this what it will be like dealing with children?
I exhale, resigned to pandering to his needs, and hold out my hand with the cookies I grabbed while I wait for him to get over it. It’s an old dance we’ve perfected over the years and it works for us. He pouts, and I give in and bribe him with cookies.
It only takes a minute before he can’t ignore me anymore, and I feel him take the cookies from my hand. When he’s done, he nudges me in the side, signaling we’ve moved on to the petting step of our dance.
“Bye, handsome,” I say once the last step is completed. I move out of the stall and make sure to close it behind me.
“You should stop pandering to his jealous nature, which, by the way, is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen in a horse.” I hear Bob’s voice in front of me.
“You say this every time. It’s just easier to give him what he wants than fight with him for the next however many days he decides to pout.”
“You spoil him.” I see him shake his head at me when I walk to where he’s waiting for me.
“Yeah, well, it works for us.”
He throws his arm around my shoulders and we walk out of the barn together. “You doing okay?”
I ponder the question for a second, wanting to be honest. “Yes, I am.” And I am, I’ve had a long talk about what happened with my therapist. She’s helped me deal with the repercussions of my mother’s behavior, and I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that she has some kind of issues she’s taking out on me. But none of this is my fault.
“You sure? We haven’t talked in a while, and last time we did you didn’t sound like you were doing well,” he presses, the concern clear in his voice.
“A lot has happened this week.” I stop in the middle of the snow-covered driveway and turn to Bob. “There’s a lot you don’t know, that I didn’t know.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for starters he called for years after we left. I just never got those messages. And for some reason he never got my calls. Veronika probably gave me the wrong number, it’s not like I know any of them by heart. He also sent letters I never received, including the invitation to their wedding.”
“Motherfucking Veronika.”
“Yeah, she went so far as to send a letter in my name telling him to leave me alone.”
“I—” He stops while staring somewhere over my shoulder. “That’s unbelievable.”
“I know. Even I didn’t think she’d stoop this low.”
“Mon…” His eyes find mine and are filled with compassion. It’s a look I’m used to from him, this isn’t the first time nor will it be the last. It’s just her worst transgressions so far.
“It’s fine.” He raises both his eyebrows in disbelief. “Okay, it’s not fine, but it’s also not something I can change. She did what she did for whatever reason only known to her. But I’m dealing with it and moving on.”
He tilts his head to the side, studying me, when suddenly his frown is replaced by a blinding smile. “I can’t believe she’d fucking do this to you. I might have a few choice words for her next time I see her. But—” his voice drops and he leans in close—“I’m fucking thrilled to hear you and your father are talking and trying to work out the past.”
“Me too. I’m sick of all the lies and deceit.”
“You know you’ll have to
