“Mom, buy the tickets. I’ll be here to help Dad. You know everyone shows up to help anyway. Last year, Max and Nash were here to help with the calves.”
“And Zane!” Mom adds. “Now, that boy is strong. Make sure to call him for this year, too.”
Zaneisstrong. Even if my mom thinks she’s trying to matchmake, it’s practical to invite Zane. I once watched him pickup a four-hundred-pound calf and put it in the trailer. I still think about that moment and wonder about the logistics of it. Zane himself is only half that. But every bit of him is solid.
I shake my head as I realize I’m daydreaming about Zane again. He’s been at the front of my mind for the entire last year. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that man. And it’s going to stop.
Today.Right after I answer his text.
“Do you remember Hanson Miller?” Mom asks as she puts the biscuits in the oven.
“You mean Ron Miller’s son?” I ask.
Ron Miller grows some timothy grass hay on the edge of the valley.
“Yes, his son’s coming back home to help run the farm.”
“Oh, well, that’s good. Last time I talked to Ron, he’d been having some back problems.” I turn the phone over and open my messages. Zane’s question is staring me in the face. I scroll past his name and open the text thread from Charlie.
Charlie: Why have two different people asked me when we’re going to have a baby?! Do I look pregnant to you???
Bliss: You don’t look pregnant. But you’ve been married for longer than three days. Everybody works fast around here.
Charlie: Did I time-travel back to the 1800’s when I moved out here?
Bliss: Since my mom is trying to get me to agree to an arranged marriage, you might be on to something.
Charlie: SHE WHAT?
Mom clears her throat loudly. I set the phone down and look up at her. “As I was saying, Hanson is single now,” Mom says as she looks at me with raised eyebrows.
I frantically hit the button on my phone to turn the screen black again so she won’t see Charlie and my conversation. “Single now? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that maybe the two of you should go on a date when he gets here. Ron and I were talking about you two when I ran into him at the store.” Mom takes a rag from the sink and wipes her biscuit-making counter.
“Mom, I haven’t seen Hanson Miller in probably seven years.”
“I know, but I might’ve mentioned something to Ron, and he thought it was a great idea. And he mentioned something to Hanson, and I might have set you up on a date.” She pastes a bright smile on her face as though that will convince me.
“Mother,” I say with a sharp tone.
“Now, don’t be mad. Don’t be mad. I just want you to have some fun and see if you two hit it off now that you’re both adults.”
“I thought that Hanson got married.”
“Well, he’s not married anymore,” she says with another big smile.
I suck in my top lip and bite it to keep from screaming in frustration.
“And howrecentwas this divorce?” I finally manage to say in a relatively moderate tone.
“Well, I guess you could ask him on your date.”
“Does Hanson even know about the date?”
“Oh, yes, he agreed. He remembered you right away.”
Never a good sign, I think to myself.
