“Damn right,” Cass says.
“Noted.” I grimace.
Seeing the kids approaching, Whit gives everyone a final look and her touch falls away from my bare arm. It’s hot and the sun is shining, but the world feels at least ten degrees colder without her.
Jonas leaps in the air to smack a tree branch, pretending it’s a basketball hoop, I think. And the move startles the small orange cat cradled in Odessa’s arms, so naturally she backhands Jonas in the chest. He scrunches his face, rubbing his sternum and playing it cool.
“Where’s your brother?” Kate asks Odessa.
She removes one hand from underneath the kitten, causing its butt to hang suspended in the air while she tightens her grip on its upper body. The exact whereabouts of Rhett seem to be a bit unknown, based on how noncommittal her pointing is. “Um…he fell on the rocks and was crying, so Dad took him.”
Jonas throws himself onto the grass, kicking his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his hands. Some other boy I’ve never seen before, but who must belong to one of the dayworkers on the ranch, joins him. Whit watches them intently, a smile playing at the corners of her eyes. I can’t say I understand why she’s so obsessed with watching the duo vent about starting school in a couple days, but whatever makes her happy makes me happy.
“Odessa,” Kate’s scolding voice cuts through the party chatter, “put the kitten down. The poor thing doesn’t want to be packed around like a stuffed animal all the time.”
“Clementine loves when I carry her like this.” With a wiggle, she adjusts her grip on the cat. “Dad said she can be my pet because the barn cats are mean to her for being the cunt of the litter.”
The entire group falls silent. Nobody knows whether to laugh or scold her, but Blair’s hiding a smile behind her hands,and both Red and Cass are doubled over pretending to be laughing at something Hazel’s doing.
“Thewhat?” Kate’s voice comes out squeaky. The skin on her face is pulled taut, every muscle fighting the urge to laugh.
Odessa pets her kitten’s head. “The cunt of the litter. That’s what Dad said. I get to keep her in the house.”
Denny’s the first among us to start howling, with the rest of the group soon following suit. There’s no holding it back anymore. My stomach cramps with the force of my laughter, and a tear rolls down Whit’s beaming face.
“Odessa, your dad didnotsay th—”
“He did!” She tucks her tongue into her cheek, rightfully pissed at us for laughing.
“Sweetie…” Kate tries her best to compose herself, reaching out to hold Odessa’s arm through waning giggles. “Sweetie, no. I think he probably saidruntof the litter. And um…what you said is not a nice word.”
“Are you sure?”
Kate inhales sharply through her teeth. “Positive.”
Denver points a finger at his niece. “Swear jar, little miss.”
Odessa sticks her tongue out at him.
“Okay, we don’t need to be rude, ma’am.” Kate tightens her grip on Odessa for half a second before letting up. “Can you please go put yourruntaway and wash your hands. It’s almost dinnertime.”
Once Odessa’s skipped away, cat stowed safely against her chest, Kate takes a long pull of beer. Finishing the bottle, she licks her lips. “God, do we have anything stronger out here?”
“Kids really say the wildest shit,” Whit says. “I have a journal filled with the hilarious things Jonas said or did when he was younger.”
“He still says stupid shit,” Blair interjects.
Jonas stops his own conversation to glare over at us. “Not all of us are old and require hearing aids. I canhear youover there.”
Whit hooks a thumb in his direction. “Now he just says mean shit. I don’t need or want to keep a record of that.”
I tip my hands like two scales. “Honestly, might be worth keeping a record of it so you have something to throw back at him.”
“Can I get a copy? I need new insults for some of the idiots that work here,” Red says to Whit. “Especially for your soon-to-be brother-in-law.”
“Oh, please.” Denny threatens to throw something but stops when he notices the baby still on Red’s lap. “You love me and you know it.”
Conversation lulls for a few seconds, all of us quietly relaxing in the late-afternoon heat. There’s a low hum of bugs—crickets and June bugs and god knows what else—coming from the nearby hayfield, and the scent of smoked brisket fanning through the air has me drooling.
