“Got it,” OJ said, panting as he arrived upstairs again. “Did Bailey text, Daddy? She said she was going to try to watch.”
“I haven’t heard from her yet,” Otis said. Sometimes dealing with OJ’s questions about Bailey wore Otis to the bone. He glanced at Georgia, who said she didn’t mind them, but somewhere deep down inside her, Otis suspected his constant questions about his birth mom did bother her.
“Let’s go, son,” he said. “We don’t want to be late.”
“Yeah, I don’t need Uncle Luke yellin’ at me,” OJ said, as ifhe’dbeen waiting for the past twenty minutes for Otis to be ready. He marched past them and out into the garage while Georgia giggled and shook her head again.
“Hey, he’s got your family’s DNA in him,” she said. Then she leaned in and kissed him, and Otis expected her to settle back on her feet and say she’d be out at the ranch later.Instead, she kissed him for longer and then longer, and when she finally pulled away, Otis licked his lips and tasted her there.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she murmured, wiping her thumb along his bottom lip. “Just hoping you’ll have fun tonight.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. “I mean, isn’t that why you retired? Whatever you do now should be fun, and if it’s not fun, then I don’t want you to do it.”
Otis nodded and swallowed. “It’s going to be fun.” He didn’t want to cause any undue stress inside his wife, and he ducked out of the house and into the pickup truck.
“All right, bud,” he said, putting on the most jovial voice he could come up with. “Before a concert, we do a check.”
“All right,” OJ said. “What kind of check?”
“Instrument?” Otis held up one finger.
“Guitar’s in the back,” Otis said, picking up on the game.
“Clothes?”
“I got my blue jeans on,” OJ said, clapping his hands on his thighs. “And my black long-sleeve shirt, just like you guys. My black boots, my black hat.” He reached up and realized he wasn’t wearing his hat. Otis held it up for him, and OJ grinned at him, grabbed it, and jammed it on his head. “Now I got my hat.”
“Equipment?” Otis asked next.
OJ looked in the back. “You got the amp, right?”
“I got the amp, and Bryce has two,” he said. “Uncle Luke brings all the drums and everything.”
OJ held up his third finger as well. “Equipment,” he said. “Check.”
“We’re having a party after our concert tonight,” he said. “You got extra clothes?”
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“Good, because we’re going to need those jeans and that shirt for our next concert in two days. We won’t have time to replace them.”
“I got extra clothes.” OJ patted his backpack.
“Water?” Otis asked.
OJ’s face went blank, and Otis started to laugh. “Adam’s bringing all the refreshments,” he said.
“Right,” OJ said. “Adam’s bringing all the refreshments.”
Otis quickly mentally ran through his instruments, clothing, equipment, and after-concert items, and then put the truck in reverse. “I think we got it all, bud.”
And even if they didn’t, Otis was pretty sure that Adam would have anything that he’d forgotten. The man didn’t missanything, and he’d probably thought of a dozen things that Otis hadn’t troubled himself with.
He kept the country music low on the way to Rising Sun Ranch, because he never spoke more than he needed to prior to performing. He’d save his voice for the concert instead.
He pulled onto the ranch and moved to where Stockton Whittaker motioned for him to park. Morris’s truck sat there, Adam’s SUV parked next to it. Trace and Luke had already arrived as well, and as Otis pulled in next to the bigblack truck where he’d been told to park, he found Harry and Belle spilling from it.
“I don’t see Tex,” he muttered to himself, and he wasn’t sure why, but extreme pleasure ran through him that he hadn’t arrived last.
