“That’s all I ask,” I said, my heart pounding.
I was gonna get there early, and I didn’t care which speed limits I broke to get it done.
8
KESS
Stevie heldout the hoe that Rowdy had abandoned. “Maybe you can plant the rest of the lantana and I’ll take care of the lavender and sage.”
I took the hoe from her hands and nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. I’m happy with what we’ve done up front, so now let’s continue it along the side of the house so that we have a nice path to the pool.”
“Okay, Uncle Kess.”
We worked in silence while I continued mentally kicking my own ass for setting off Rowdy. There was no way in hell I’d have ever guessed that he eventually wanted kids. Hell, he’d made being single and footloose his entire personality.
By the time Stevie and I made it to the back of the house, my lower back was in full protest, my feet were on fire, and I still felt like shit about Rowdy’s reaction. Stevie and I got some water, and she finally broke the silence as we walked the tools back to the garage.
“People don’t realize that Rowdy is a lot more sensitive than he likes to let on,” she said quietly.
I sighed.
“You’re right, Stevie-girl. I probably need to apologize to him.”
She grimaced. “I dunno, Uncle Kess. I think apologies make him feel squirrelly.”
“Why do you think that is?” I asked the thirteen-year-old, because I clearly had no idea.
As only a teenager could do, Stevie fixed me with an expression that told me exactly how stupid I was being.
“What?”
“He had it really rough when he was a kid,” she said, her attitude suddenly somber. “And Papa once told me that if you get raised to think you’re nothing, when someone gives you attention, it can feel bad. Worse, if someone does something bad to you, it can feel like you deserved it, even sub...sub...What’s that word that means that you think it, but you don’t know you’re thinking it?”
“Subconsciously,” I answered as her words landed.
“That’s the one.”
“So, if I apologize to him, and he subconsciously still thinks he should be treated badly, he might not know how to take it.”
“Exactly. He’s like Huck. Just yesterday I tried to give that damn horse scratches on his ears, the way I know he likes it, and that butthead almost bit me.”
“He did? Are you okay?” I asked, giving her a once-over.
“I’m fine, Uncle Kess,” she said with an annoyed huff. “I’m just saying that Huck bites because affection hurts. Rowdy acts like he doesn’t need anyone because when he really did need someone, when he was a kid, all they did was hurt him. It’s the same with Papa. He was so mean to Dad at the beginning, and he was just biting at the first sign of affection.”
Emery said that he was frequently astounded at the words that came out of Stevie’s mouth. I was beginning to see why.
“Yeah, but I think I actually hurt Rowdy’s feelings. So, he’s not biting at affection. He’s biting at hurt.”
Hurt that he’s not one hundred percent sure he doesn’t deserve.
We both went quiet for a moment.
“You ever burn your hand on the stove, Uncle Kess?”
“Of course. Everybody has.”
“And you remember how, after, like, a terrible burn, the next time you touched the stove you felt real squirrelly about it?”
