I stick my hand inside the laundry basket in an effort to distract myself from the vortex of shame and need and confusion swirling inside my gut.
Of coursethe item of clothing I pluck from the pile is some of Dad’s underwear.
Dropping it, I grab some socks instead. “Why are you still doing Dad’s laundry? I know he has time now.” My brothers are the ones working long hours these days. Dad’s not retired, but he’s keeping a regular seven-to-four schedule along with me.
“Because, honey, I like taking care of him. That’s how marriage works.”
“Has he ever done your laundry?”
Mom nods. “He did. Who do you think took care ofmewhen I had six babies?”
“Grandma.”
“She helped too, of course,” Mom says with a chuckle. “But your dad stepped up in a big way. You’ll see when you get married.”
Ugh, Mom and the zingers today.
Maybe I’m just extra sensitive to it right now because I’m PMSing. Or maybe I just need to accept the fact that Ryder wasn’t joking when he said,Don’t fall in love with me.
“You all right, honey?”
I realize Mom is looking at me, her face etched with concern. “Yeah. Sorry. Spacing out here. I’m pooped.”
“Dad says the office has been quiet.” Her frown stays put. “I know you’re still probably shaken up from your injury, but the sooner you get your head back into work, the easier it’ll be.”
“Did you like your job?”
“What? Being a mom to y’all?” Mom smiles, smoothing her hands over the shirt she just folded. “It wasn’t easy. But it was right for our family, and right for me too. I loved raising you kids. Some of our happiest times were when y’all were little. Life was chaos, and we were just surviving a lot of the time. But there was a clarity of purpose that I miss, because that job—it does end. Not being a parent, but having kids at home.”
My chest twists. Leave it to Mom to unexpectedly relate to my occupational angst.
“Knock knock!”
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Dad stride into the kitchen. I do a double take when a woman walks in behind him.
She’s cute, probably around my age, with brown hair and a big smile.
“Y’all, I’d like to introduce you to Lainey Brown.” Dad nods at our visitor. “She’s the daughter of a friend, and she’s in town from Austin, where she just graduated business school.”
Lainey smiles and crosses the kitchen, holding out her hand. “Nice to meet y’all. Dale told me so much about his family that I already feel like I know you. He’s so proud of y’all.”
I shake her hand. “He should be. We’re awesome.”
“You must be Billie.” Lainey smiles. “You’re a barrel racer, right?”
“Shewasa barrel racer,” Mom corrects. “But she’s always been our A-plus accountant. She even got her degree in math.”
“Oh?” Lainey tilts her head. “Where’d you go to school?”
“I got my associate’s degree online so I wouldn’t have to leave the ranch.”
“Girl, I get it. I wouldn’t want to leave this slice of heaven either. Your family’s property is stunning. It’s truly an honor to help y’all with some updates. I already have so many ideas!”
I raise my brows and look at Dad. “Updates?”
“I had lunch with Lainey’s father in Fort Worth earlier this year.” Dad rocks back on his heels as he slips his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “You know, when I was there for the rodeo? Anyway, we got to talking, and he mentioned Lainey was a branding whiz.”
Mom frowns. “Not branding as in?—”
