Bolting from the couch, I pad softly down the hall as the shower hisses to life in the bathroom. Sliding into my bedroom and hitting ‘answer’, I can’t hide the wince on my face as I press the phone to my ear.
“Dad! Hey.” My voice is too bright, too forced. Clearing my throat only makes me sound suspicious, so I opt to choke on the lump in the back of my throat instead.
“Well, she speaks.” His tone is dry, laced with a worry that immediately winds a coil of guilt tighter in my gut. “For a minute there, I was drafting a missing person’s report. ‘Last seen mucking out stalls, likely fed to the pigs for breakfast.’”
“Very funny.” I try to match his lightness, but it falls flat. “It’s just… busy. There’s always something going on around here. You know how it is.”
“I do. That’s why I’m checking in.” He pauses, and the silence is an interrogation. “So. Talk to me. Is the ranch treating you okay? Cyrus working you to the bone? I told him to take it easy on you.”
I pace the small room, my free hand twisting in the hem of my shirt. “It’s good. Really good. I’m learning a ton. The sunrise over the pasture is… insane.” I’m babbling, sticking to scenery,safe topics, without delving too deep into the risk of struggling to maintain the truth.
“And Cyrus?” he asks, like he already knows what I’m thinking. “He’s treating you right?”
He treats me like I’m something precious he discovered and isn’t sure he should keep. He kisses like he’s drowning and I’m air.
“Yeah. Yeah, he’s… he’s great. A good teacher. A little quiet, but bossy sometimes. Most of the time.”
At least I have the sense not to openly admit how much I enjoy what should be considered a flaw.
“Good,” Dad says, but his voice holds a father’s permanent, low-grade suspicion. “I knew he’d be the perfect man to stick you with. I remember all the times that fool took me in each time I got in trouble…”
While he starts bringing up old memories, spelling out his trust, something sharp pricks my chest. Lying to him is one thing, but won’t his relationship with Cyrus be completely ruined because of what we’re doing?
A little sigh escapes me.
“Mills?”
“Dad, I’m so sorry, I’ve actually gotta run—I’ll catch up with you at a better time. Later tonight, I swear.” Hearing a creak in the hall, I shift around to find something to wear. Something pretty. “I’m going to some diner.”
“Maplewood? Order a piece of pie for me.”He pauses like there’s more to be said, but lets out a little sigh himself. “Okay, kiddo. Keep up with me. I don’t want to have to track you down next time to make sure you’re still breathing.”
“Will do. Seriously.” Saying the words in my head once more to really cement them, my grip on the phone tightens. “Love you.”
“Love you more.”
At the silence that follows at the end of our phone call, I’m hit with the same feelings that have been overcoming me as of late, but infinitely worse now that I’ve heard his voice.
Outside of feeling bad, there are hints of homesickness prodding at the surface.
“Stop feeling bad, Millie. Just enjoy yourself.” Muttering the words to myself, shaking my head doesn’t knock the bad thoughts out in the slightest. This is fine. When I go back home, or back to college, orwherever, don’t I want to make sure I’ve made the most out of my summer?
Cyrus is truly wonderful. I never want to regret not pursuing my desires and risk missing out on all the possibilities I could have explored.
With a new mindset brewing, I abandon my phone and hunt down something cute to wear. Having almost lost my ability to wear any of the thin summer dresses I’ve packed, I select a baby-blue one with white daisies stitched across the neckline and hem.
Once I’m fussing with my hair and debating just how much I should work on my appearance, there’s a light knock at the door.
“Almost done. Five more minutes?” Hoping that’ll be long enough to finish up, my hands move quicker.
When Cyrus gets a good look at me, I want to be the only thing he can see. That’s not too much to ask for, is it?
7
Cyrus
Hearing Millie talk to Jerry should remind me of my place. It should cut through the fever in my blood. Yet as each day passes, the heat only intensifies.
What I’m feeling is wrong. So fucking wrong. A man my age should know better.
