Lu shrugged like that was that. No big deal. Just an everyday thing. But when she picked up her tea, her hands clenched the cup like she was trying to soak the heat into her body, into her blood.
“It’s okay, baby,” I said. “We can do this fast. Stella’s going to be very, very calm and ignore your memories and feelings. Aren’t you?”
Stella moved to stand behind me, then she knelt, her shoulder against mine. She reached out and rested her hand on mine where it was still on Lu’s knee.
“I’ll do everything Brogan tells me to do. I won’t look at your life, your memories, or your fears. I’ll be quick. I promise.”
“I’m right here,” I told her, weighing my words, imagining a blanket wrapped around Lu’s thin shoulders, giving her comfort. Giving her warmth.
Lu knew that. She also felt Stella there, the cold of her touch different than mine. Lu was sensitive enough for that.
But it wasn’t Lu we were waiting on. It was Dot.
Lu wisely didn’t say anything. Just drank her tea and rocked in the chair and gave Dot time to decide. Time to believe, if she wanted, time to deny if she desired.
Stella and I waited, too, and really, there’s nothing more patient than dead people.
The sun had lowered behind the trees, throwing a golden light that made everything look like it’d been dipped in maple syrup.
It was hot, but the wind had been steady all day, lifting sweat before it had time to cool.
The tea was gone by the time Dot finally spoke.
“Let’s go in the house. I think I’d rather talk to her in her room, if that’s all right with you?”
“That’s fine.”
“Yes,” Stella said. “That would be good. That would be nice.” She stood, all her focus on her sister, and followed her like a lost puppy as she entered the house.
I remained with Lu, because that’s where I would always choose to be. Beside her.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” she whispered as she turned her hand over, palm up, waiting for mine.
I pressed my palm into hers. “Stella’s nice. She’ll make it as easy as it can be. I’ll help.”
Lu inhaled, then exhaled in a thin stream, readying herself.
“That book better be worth it,” she said with a grin quick as a sunbeam in a stormy sky.
“That strange old magic ought to be worth something,” I said. “But you promise me you’ll tap out if this gets too heavy.”
She stood, her hand swinging naturally to her side, and walked across the length of the porch leaving just the right amount of space beside her for me to walk with her.
It was those things, those little things, that kept me fighting when things looked impossible. Her determination to keep me in her life was a gift and an honor, and I was not going to let her down.
“Tell her to be quick. And tell her to start with letting Dot know it’s really her. Have her describe something I don’t know that only Dot will know.”
“Not my first rodeo.” I kissed her on her temple.
“Yeah,” she said, “but I remember your first rodeo.”
I groaned. “Don’t.”
“You wore chaps. All those tassels. And that swagger.”
I huffed and rubbed my free hand through my hair. I had felt like such a fool. But a buddy had told me he could get me into the rodeo for free. He’d also told me girls loved a cowboy, and since I was a hired ranch hand among other things, I was as close to a cowboy as I needed to be to impress Lula.
He’d supplied the chaps too. But he was smaller than me. Most men were. My ass hung out of those things like a drugstore awning, and half the straps wouldn’t buckle down properly over my thighs. “You liked that, huh?”
