In the background, he thought he could hear Bea crying to herself, but if he asked Mona to give the phone back to Bea, she’d only say no, and then after the phone call she’d be cold and snippy to Bea, even if Bea was her only daughter and needed her.
Bea needed her dad, too. But that wasn’t going to happen, though Austin could try to manage that a little better, regretting the fact that he’d let Mona have her way about the visitation rights. He needed to change that, needed to figure out a way to make it happen.
“I would like to be able to speak to her more than once a week,” said Austin. “That’s fair. Even the judge would say so.”
“I suppose,” said Mona, in that way she had, like giving in would break her. “She has to use my cell phone for that, and I am a busy woman, very busy.”
“Please, Mona?” asked Austin, hating the begging sound beneath the words, hated the way he felt like he was crawling on broken glass, afraid that at any moment, Mona would really explode on him and maybe take it out on Bea. “Do it for Bea. Besides,” he added, angry that he imagined he could hear Bea crying in the background. “We do have joint custody. The judge said so.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said. There was no warmth in her voice, but then there hadn’t been for a good long while now.
Still, if Mona had to allow Bea to talk to him more than once a week, it was yet another thing she could complain to the other Mama Bears about, her stupid ex-husband whoinsistedon talking to his daughter, can you imagine?
“Thank you, Mona,” he said. “Kiss Bea for me, will you?”
“Goodbye,” she said, and the line clicked and the phone was silent.
With the cellphone an inert piece of metal in his hands, Austin looked out the window of his small room where the view was transformed by silver rain against the window.
What he wanted to do was borrow Leland’s truck and race down to Thornton so he could give Bea a giant hug. Then he’d get her to tell him about her day, and share with her funny things that had happened in the office, like they used to do together.
Thornton wasn’t a far drive away, but at that moment it was light years. Even if he had left that moment, when he arrived it would be late, Bea would be in bed.
Mona would be at the door, her arms crossed, manicured fingernails making tapping motions on her sleeve. Probably Uncle Roger would be standing close behind her, marking his territory, waggling his eyebrows at Austin as if to say,Yes, I’ve seen the bleached anus that you’ve never seen.
He had to shake himself hard to dispel the image, to rid himself of how it felt to be so disconnected from a life that he’d lived with his full heart. Missing Bea was a big part of it. Missing who he thought he’d been was the other.
His cellphone chirped. He looked down at his hand and thumbed the most recent text open, thinking it was Mona with a last-minute request of him. But it was Clay.
Dinner’s almost over. You coming?
Austin found himself looking forward to meals more than he thought he would. And though Clay, who worked hard, often showed up well after the dinner hour had begun, Austin would wait as long as it took. This time, Austin was making Clay wait, which he didn’t want to do.
Quickly he typed:Yes.
It was like Clay to check up on him. It was like Clay to care. And it was like Austin to wonder if Clay might consider their friendship, and whatever else it seemed to be, too much trouble to bother.
He typed again:Coming.
No, there was no innuendo there, not a bit of one. But after he plugged in his phone to charge it, he checked himself in the mirror.
In his eyes there was that hangdog look Mona always complained about and would probably keep complaining about till the universe ended. There was nothing to be done about it. He looked like he looked.
Only—he had a second snap-button shirt he’d bought, a green plaid one that had arrived at the store that morning. Maybe he could put it on—for Clay—and act as if. Maybe Clay would say he looked nice, and even if the tone in his voice was teasing, it wouldn’t be mocking. Rather, it would be encouraging.
And what on earth was he supposed to do with the fact that he very much would like more teasing from Clay? What was he supposed to do with the idea that he was terrified if that teasing should lead to something more?
Except this wasn’t a horror movie. He wouldn’t die from it. Nothing bad would happen if it all should go wrong, except maybe some discomfort between co-workers whose fling didn’t quite work out.
And it really wouldn’t work out the second Clay found out that Austin could not, as Joe Public might say,manage. Austin couldn’t get it up. While the sweetness of being on the ranch had made a bit of difference in how he was feeling, he’d long since taken himself in hand, so it was almost like he’d forgotten how.
Mona liked him to do all the work. Mona liked—but to hell with what Mona liked. Mona had given him up for Uncle Roger, and Austin was on his own. And why should he worry? Anyway, he wasn’t Clay’s type, however friendly Clay was, however sweet the teasing. Not to mention, he had no idea how gay men went about things.
Giving his shirt collar one last tug, Austin grabbed his windbreaker and his room key and made his way downstairs. Out on the front porch of the staff quarters, the rain made a steady pattern on the roof, coming down in silver strings from the overhang. There would be puddles on the path, but his cowboy boots could take it, they were made for rough weather.
He hustled between the raindrops to arrive at a dining hall that was just being cleared from dinner. Fine, he wasn’t hungry, anyway. He just wanted to see Clay and to thank him for everything.
“Hey,” said Clay, coming through the guests as they clomped onto the porch. “Here, I grabbed you a bowl of mac and cheese, which, I know, is not good for your girlish figure, but hey. We can wash the bowl afterward. And besides, we’re setting up for game night on account of the rain.”
