“His back hurts him a little bit tonight,” Momma said.
Winnie cocked her hip and folded her arms. “Daddy.”
“I took a few extra pain pills, and I won’t do it again,” he said.
“You’re going to have on days and off days,” Winnie said. “Some where you feel really great, and some where you don’t. You’ve got plenty of help. You don’t need to be getting your own shoes.”
“I’m okay,” her dad said, his voice forceful enough that Winnie dropped it.
“What are you guys doing for dinner?” She moved over to a slim built-in bench and sat down—her place in the backyard when they sat out here.
“I think I’m going to make one of my easy shepherd’s pies,” Momma said. “We’ve got some of those ready-made mashed potatoes, and I’ve got some frozen filling.”
“That should be easy, then,” Winnie said, and they settled into a companionable silence.
Her parents were completely different people here in Three Rivers than they’d been in Redwood, and she wasn’t sure why. Were they outside their comfort zone? Were they better away from Taylor?
They went to church with her and Tyson, and they’d settled into their community just fine. Because they didn’t live with her, she got along great with them, and Winnie actually enjoyed coming over and checking on her parents as often as they needed her to. She’d come every day in the beginning—morning and night—and now she usually only came by for a few minutes in the evening on her way home from work.
“Ty said he brought you lunch yesterday,” she said.
“Yeah, he did.” Fondness filled her father’s voice. “It was really good, too. He made chicken fajitas, and the peppers were nice and tender.”
A brilliant smile filled Momma’s face. “He is such a fine young man, Winnie.” She sighed and looked over their backyard, which had a single apple tree in the back and tall privacy spruces along the left fence that protected the yard from the neighbors.
“Yeah, he’s great,” Winnie said.
“When do you think he’ll propose?” Momma asked.
“I don’t know, Momma.”
“Well, he can’t propose,” Daddy said. “She hasn’t even told him she loves him.”
She whipped her gaze back to his. “What? How do you know that?”
Daddy gazed at her in a steady, even way that almost felt like a challenge. “Because he told us yesterday.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t told that wonderful man that you love him,” Momma scolded. “Heneedsto hear it, Winnie.”
“Men like to hear things like that just as much as women,” Daddy added.
Guilt streamed through Winnie, the hotness of it testifying to her that her parents were right. “I didn’t know I was going to get a lecture when I came over today,” she said.
“Now you know howIfeel,” Daddy said. “I get a lecture every time one of you opens your mouth.”
“Oh, you do not,” Momma said.
Daddy chuckled. “I know. Besides, sometimes I need the lectures.”
“We all do,” Momma said.
Winnie faced her parents again. “Did Ty say anything else?”
“He said?—”
“We are not going to tell his secrets.” Momma’s louder voice drowned out Daddy’s, and Winnie pinned her gaze to him, hoping to implore him with just her eyes to tell her what else Ty had said. But Daddy said nothing.
Momma finally looked over to her. “I think he’s waiting on you, dear.”
