Dad’s brow wings upward. “Elizabeth May, are you pulling my chain? What girls?”
As if summoned by the use of my full name, Mom appears, throwing open the door. “Well, howdy, y’all.”
“Hi, Mom,” I reply, pasting on a smile.
Dad turns to Mom. “She says she’s getting together with some friends tonight.”
“Oh, honey, which friends are you talking about? Do I know them?”
I remember Pawpaw, my mom’s dad, telling me my eyes would get stuck if I kept rolling them so much.
Considering I’ve rolled them as much as I have, it’s a miracle theyhaven’tgotten stuck. I try very hard not to roll them again right now.
“Of course y’all know them. It’s just gonna be me, Ava, Sally, Mollie Luck, and Wheeler Rankin. You know, the gal who owns Bellamy Brooks with Mollie.”
Mom and Dad stare at me for a full beat.
“What?” I roll my thumb over my phone screen in a failed effort to keep my face from flushing. “You can call them and check if you’d like.”
Mom sets down the plate on my desk and claps her hands. “I love this for you, Billie. It’s one of my biggest regrets that we couldn’t give you a sister.”
“Had to call it quits at some point.” Dad runs a hand over his face. “Man’s gotta retire, and that wasn’t ever gonna happen if we kept having babies.”
Mom tucks my hair behind my ear. “Y’all go have fun. Holler if you need me to pick you up, all right? No drinking and driving.”
I glance at my phone. “Actually, Wheeler is pregnant, so she just offered to be our designated driver.”
“Excellent.” Dad nods. “Good for you, Billie.”
I’m smiling for the first time all week, and it feels good.
Dad notices. “That right there is what I like to see. I know you’ve been in a funk this week. Whatever y’all are doing, I hope you have fun. You deserve to blow off a little steam.”
I close my eyes and try to breathe through my nose. Sometimes, I think my parents don’t really understand me. But other times, they seem to understand me better than I understand myself.
At the very least, they love me unconditionally, and they always look out for me. And that’s why I’m terrified of letting them down.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” He ducks his head, brow furrowed.
I swallow hard. “I’m fine, really. Or I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you, sweetie.”
“Love you too.”
Forty-seven years later, the day ends, thank the Lord. It was a long day in a long-ass week, and I am running on fumes.
I could flop on my couch and rot there for the rest of the night, easy. But as tired as I am, I’m morefrustrated. If Xander is offering, I’m going to take him up on it.
So I force some pep into my step and head for my car after I leave the office. Only I’m intercepted two minutes later by Colt, who’s heading to Mom and Dad’s house to pick up Dean. I can smell the earthy scent of tobacco that rises off him. He said he’s cutting back on the cigars, but today must’ve been an exception.
“Heading out to the Rattler tonight, I hear.” He puts his hands on his hips. My stomach clenches with envy when I see how deeply tanned his face and hands are from a day spent outside.
