So much was wrong with those couple of sentences I glanced around, half expecting the apocalypse.
“She’s always seeing a new guy. There’s never not been a new guy in my mom’s life.” I couldn’t think of a single instance when her boyfriend lasted longer than two months. As old as she was, that meant she’d dated so many guys, if you laid them down in a straight line, they’d circle the earth once. At least once.
Rose shrugged. “She sounded pretty serious about this one. Just the fact that she wanted to make the journey with him out here to meet you made me stop and make sure the sky wasn’t falling.”
“The only reason she wants to bring him out here is because she probably wants to break up with him. She knows seeing her freak of a daughter will be enough to send him running. It’s worked before. Makes it easier on her if they just run away screaming.” I leaned into the counter and looked out the window. I didn’t want Mom there. Willow Springs was my special place. A place where I didn’t have to walk on egg shells around her. A place where some “new guy” didn’t take automatic priority over her flesh and blood. I didn’t want to taint what small sliver of peace I’d found with the wars and battles that would surely come if we were under the same roof.
“Please stop calling yourself that, Rowen,” Rose said in as firm a voice as I’d ever heard her use. “You’re no more a freak than I am. You’re just as much a freak as I am, too. Don’t let some ignorant name you’ve heard directed your way define you. You define you.” She pressed her finger into my face. “Stop playing the victim and live your life.”
I think if she’d just slapped me across the face, I wouldn’t have been as shocked. Rose was such a calm soul that seeing her so fired up was a bit unnerving.
“Those are some powerful words,” I said slowly.
“That’s because they’re true.” Rose looked at me and waited. She wouldn’t let me out of the kitchen until she’d pounded it into me.
“I’ll think them over.” I reached for the handle of the cooler. Uncomfortable conversations were something I tried to avoid at all costs.
“Promise you will.”
To argue would have been pointless. Rose may be small, but she was mighty. “I promise.”
“Good,” she said, and her whole body relaxed. “Now,”—she grabbed the other handle—“let’s get this thing loaded up before those boys keel over from starvation.”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want them to kill a cow and start roasting it over a fire.”
“No, we wouldn’t,” Rose said around a chuckle.
Rose and I managed to wrangle that cooler out of the kitchen, out the back door, and down the stairs before we had to set it down and take a break. Last week, I couldn’t have helped carry that thing five feet. Just went to show how strong one got working around a ranch. I also knew my muscles weren’t the only things getting stronger.
Everything about me was getting stronger.
“What car do you want to take?” Rose asked. Her breathing wasn’t even labored like mine. “The Suburban or Neil’s truck?”
I studied them and made a face. The family Suburban was almost as long as a school bus, and Neil’s truck was an extended cab monster truck. Then another vehicle caught my attention.
“Why don’t I take Old Bessie?” I said. “It’s the only one I think I have a decent shot of seeing over the steering wheel without having to prop a phone book under my butt.”
Rose studied the truck with me and gave a good laugh. “Old Bessie it is then. Jesse would be happy to know someone on this ranch other than him isn’t too embarrassed to drive it.”
We lifted the cooler again and headed for Old Bessie. “I didn’t say I wasn’t embarrassed to drive that thing. I’m just choosing the lesser of two embarrassing options.” Rose lowered the tailgate, and we swung the cooler up into the bed. I grunted like it weighed a ton. Rose smiled like it was light as a feather. “Drive Old Bessie or sit propped up on a phone book . . .” I lifted both hands and weighed the options. “Kind of a tough call.”
“Well, enjoy the ride and make sure to wash your hands when you’re done driving that thing. Lord only knows what could be growing in it.” Rose lifted the tailgate and wiped her hands off on her pants. “You got your phone in case you get turned around?”
I patted my jeans’ pocket.
“You shouldn’t have a problem. Just follow that windy dirt road until you see a bunch of cattle and guys on horseback.”
“I think I can handle that.” I came around the truck and opened the car door. It made a whiny, screeching sound. I leapt up into the driver’s seat and found I could see over the steering wheel. Barely, but I could. “Oops. I need keys.”
“They’re in the ignition,” Rose said.
Yep. Sure enough. I guess no one would want to steal Old Bessie anyways. Turning them over, the engine fired to life. When I say fired, I mean I expected a real life, raging fire to erupt from the hood.
“See you later. If I’m not back in a few hours, send the search party.” I waved at Rose before closing the door and heading out of the driveway.
Surprisingly, Old Bessie drove fairly smoothly for a truck in its condition. And that truck had something no other truck had: Jesse’s smell overpowering the cab.
I was about a couple miles down the bumpy dirt road when I reached for the CD player. I hit play without thinking, and that Johnny Cash character Jesse was such a fan of started singing in that deep, dark voice of his about rings and fires.