Yes, and they are delicious.
I can’t believe you eat at a barbecue place called Roadkill.He smiled, though a cold feeling slid through him, like Winnie might be slipping through his fingers the way smoke lifted from dry ice. He reminded himself she had a job, a house, and her cats here. Surely her father’s health in the present wouldn’t define their entire future.
Of course, his own life had changed because of his injuries, so he knew better than most that everything could blow apart and be gone. He didn’t like thinking so fatalistically. He’d been working to see the glass half full—through a Winnie-lens instead of his own.
“Redwood is only three hours away,” he told himself. “And you know how to drive.”
Momma might throw a royal fit about a trip that long by himself, and he couldn’t imagine showing up on Winnie’s parents’ front step, having never met them.
Besides, when he’d first come home after being injured—and after every surgery—Momma had stayed by his side for at least a week, bringing medication and food and making sure he got to appointments. If Winnie had to take on that role, she wouldn’t have time to see him.
He racked his brain for something he could do.What do you need? Breakfast in the morning? A maid service? Tell me, and if I can make a few calls, I’ll get it done.
She sent three emojis.No—don’t do anything yet. I’m going to take a full assessment of everyone and everything tomorrow, and we’ll see where we stand.
Ty sent praying hands and flopped back on the bed, curling onto his side as Rocky settled against his chest. “Salmon,” he called softly.He had no idea if the black cat would sleep with him. Winnie had said sometimes Salmon came into the bedroom and sometimes he slept under the bed, and sometimes he chose his cat palace in the third bedroom.
Even without Salmon, Ty liked the coziness of the guest room. It had close walls that didn’t press in, and gave him somewhere solid to be.
Winnie didn’t text again, and his hand drifted along Rocky’s back until he finally fell asleep.
He woke each morning,and by Sunday, Salmon had decided he could tolerate sleeping in the same room as Ty. He fed the cats morning and night, went to work and to church, and on Monday night he sat on Winnie’s deck again, this time with his computer open on the table, working through an online sign language lesson Lacy had given him.
He’d spoken to Winnie every day since Thursday, and her assessments were not good. She hadn’t said she wasn’t returning yet, but at Ty’s PT appointment that afternoon, Jerome had mentioned he wasn’t sure when she’d be back. As the supervisor over the PT unit, the man would know.
The quiet stillness of the suburb threatened to smother him. His ribs felt heavy against his lungs, but he felt so loud and chaotic inside.He moved through the lesson without a sound from his mouth, only his hands whispering through the air.
He finished, his impatience peaking. He snapped the laptop closed and tapped to call Winnie instead of texting.
The line rang twice. “It’s Ty, and I’m going to talk to him for a few minutes. You’re fine without me,” she said to someone, her voice full of frustration. A door slammed, then a sigh. “Hey, cowboy.”
“I can call back if it’s a bad time,” he said.
“It’s always a bad time,” Winnie griped. “It’s fine.”
“Things aren’t goin’ well there?” he asked. She didn’t have to answer for him to know. He’d expected her on the road by now, but her pin still showed her in Redwood.
“Honestly, everything is a dumpster fire,” Winnie said, and he could see her wiping her hands down her face. “It’s like everyone in this house has turned into a child. I think my mother is doing the best she can, but Daddy’s ornery and in pain all the time, so he’s short and mean, and Taylor’s—well, you’ve heard me talk about Taylor, and this has only made her worse.”
“I’m really sorry,” Ty said. “You never let me send anyone or do anything. What can I do?”
“Just calling is perfect,” she said, her voice softening.
“You want me to drive up some more clothes?” he asked, keeping his voice even and without judgment. “I’m sure I can find something in your closet or dresser.”
“The last thing I want is you rifling through my clothes,” she said, then giggled. “I’m fine.”
“How long are you going to stay, sweetheart?” Ty asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice turning into pure frustration. “I’m really sorry, Ty, but I don’t know. I called Jerome, and he said it’s fine. I can stay as long as I need to, and you’re taking care of the cats, so….”
The word hung there, and Ty hated it. “Okay,” he said, thinking of this weekend and Wilder’s wedding. He and Winnie had planned to go together. He wasn’t going to mention it and make her feel worse. “You’ll tell me if you need something, right? I can’t read your mind, Winnie, and I want to help.”
“You’re the sweetest man alive,” she said. “And you know what I would really love tomorrow?”
“What?” he asked.
“There’s this place in Redwood called Waffle-All, and they have a Belgian waffle with fruit.”
