Refusing their “handouts”.
Sad thing is…that’s not what they were tryin’ to give.
They just didn’t want her to be working so much that she missed out on life with us.
And in a lot of ways…she did.
I’m lucky I have the memories that I do.
I’m bummed Bronny doesn’t have more.
Can’t.
“How’d she pass away?” Gilly cautiously inquires.
“Car accident,” Bronny answers, voice doing its best not to shake. “Late night. Dirt road. Deer suck.”
“What about your dad?” Her attempt to shift back onto a happier subject fails. “Did you make his too?”
“Never met mine,” I inform upon our arrival on the passenger side of the truck. “Military. Marine, I think. Died when I was a newborn. And I met Bronny’s twice. He died before she knew she was pregnant.” He opens the back door. “Firefighter.”
“Ohmygod,” she airily croaks out. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have asked! I-”
“Didn’t know.” The shut sound causes more pain to cross her complexion. “And it’s okay thatnow youdoknow.” Preparing to open her door occurs next. “Part of datin’ is learnin’‘bout more than jus’ how someone likes their coffee, aye?” My reassurance is accompanied by the pulling of the handle. “In you go, Gillybean.”
After making sure she’s properly settled in, I take a moment to drink in how perfect she looks in my truck, happily hum to myself, and swing back around to climb inside myself.
My door has just finished shutting when she cheerfully asks, “Okay, guys, where are we headed in our swimwear? Paddleboarding? Yacht party? Boat race?”
“Y’all do that here?!” my younger brother excitedly questions, folding his frame into the space between us. “When’d you get a boat?!”
“I ain’t got a boat.” My mirth filled attention cuts over my shoulder to him. “But Wahl has one he shares with his brother.”
“Think he’ll let me drive it?!”
“Legally you can’t without a BEC,” informs my date, recollecting our attention.
“Why I gotta have birth control to drive a boat?”
“That would beBC,” she gingerly corrects. “BEC stands for boater education card, which is just a little safety course to ensure you have the capacity to operate the vehicle.”
“Like a weigh in?”
“Mentalcapacity, bud.” Not laughing grows in difficulty. “Not physical.”
“Oh,” he grunts in defeat.
“And we’re headed to the pool,” my eyes lock onto Gilly’s again, “not the lake.”
“I finally get to see your pool?”
“Itslapppppsssss,” insists our backseat rider.
“Not my pool –today– but one day,” I swiftly promise. “Any day after today you want.”
“Noted.” She sweetly beams. “So, whose pool?”
“The Frost Luxury Hotel in The Sphere.”
