He winced and looked at the floor, but then his old, brown eyes landed on mine.“They also remember your… your daddy.They remember how he treated your mama when he was drunk, and they’re sayin’ you’re gonna end up just like her.Alone and… miserable.”
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Dixon
When I arrivedat the ranch, my brother, Bea, and my son met me in front of the house, Stuey sporting a blue and white Spitfire Ranch trucker cap way too big for him.
I flicked the brim and patted his head.“What’s up, kid?”
He smiled, but then Bax’s stern face crowded mine.
“Bedtime is 8:30.Bea made dinner for y’all.It’s in the fridge.Think you can manage to microwave it?”
“’Course.”
“And no TV.Stu lost his TV privileges this mornin’ when he decided to replace the truth about who broke the gear shift on the skid steer with a fantastical story about an invisible monster who goes around bustin’ up farm equipment.”Under his breath, Bax added, “Makin’ shit up like somebody else I know.
“He wants you to take him fishin’.You’ve got about an hour and a half left of daylight, two at most, so you better get to it, but take a flashlight just in case.Stu knows where everything is, and there’s bait in the fridge in the garage.And keep your phone on you.I better be able to get ahold of you if I need to.”
“10–4,” I said, and I saluted Commander in Chief Bax.
Stu giggled, but Bax scoffed.
“Don’t be a tool, Dixon.I don’t have to do this.”
Bea stepped in finally.“C’mon, husband.Let’s get goin’.Athena’s textin’ up a storm, wonderin’ where we are.The boys will be fine.”She flashed me a soft smile as she pushed Bax toward his truck.
“You have nothin’ to worry about,” I called after him.“I got this.”
Bax stopped and turned, his eyebrows ticked up with doubt.
Okay, so maybe I couldn’t blame him for worrying, but I felt confident and grounded.I knew I could return Stu to Bax in the same condition I’d found him.
“Bax, you promised you’d try,” Bea said.“Let’s go.”
“Fine,” Bax retorted, but I could see the worry lingering in his eyes.“We’ll be back around ten, maybe ten-thirty.”
Reluctantly, Bax backed up and drove off, with Bea waving out the window to Stu.Stu waved back, then grabbed my hand and dragged me inside.
He tossed his hat onto the couch.“C’mon.I need to get my fishin’ pole.It’s in my room, but Daddy cuts the hook off so you gotta tie it back on for me.I’m not good at that part yet.”
As I followed my son up the stairs, his little feet pounding the wood, I realized I’d never seen his room, and it nearly knocked me sideways when he ran into the same one I’d slept in as a boy.
It was different now, of course, and had been repainted a dark, dusky blue color, with hunter green accents.The walls used to be a sickly-sweet robin’s-egg blue that Merv had picked out when Bax and Brand were babies, and I’d shared the room with them both when I came along.Bax got the single and Brand and I shared bunkbeds so Abey, the only girl in our family, could have her own space for all the dolls Noah Lee bought her that she never played with.
When we were really little, though, she used to sneak into our room when our parents were asleep, and the four of us would pull our blankets to the floor and sleep huddled up together.
Even then we knew a monster lurked down the hall.It took a few more years for me to realize that our dad, or at least the man claiming to be mine, was the monster.
Stu threw open the closet door and disappeared inside for a few seconds, and I looked around.
Crayons and pencils littered his desk, and wadded-up pieces of paper had been discarded on top and on the floor surrounding a black, plastic wastepaper basket, the waxy, unfinished drawings on them hinting at Stu’s imagination and all the stories living in his head.
His bed had been made, probably by Bea or Bax, and it was the epitome of what I’d expect to find in a little boy’s room, with green-and-blue plaid sheets and comforter, and his white pillowcases coordinated with green fish on them, so that even when he slept, he could dream about fishing.
“I like your room,” I said.
“Thanks.Mama let me pick out the sheets and stuff.”
