Page 8 of My Redneck Baby Daddy

"Rue Boo."

I handed it over, because arguing with Regina was a hobby for people with more free time than me. She scrolled, and I watched her face change, and then she set the phone down very carefully like it might detonate. "He said ask me sober."

I grimaced. "I know what he said."

"Girl, he said it twice."

"I can read, Regina Mae."

She picked up a stress ball shaped like a brain and looked like she wanted to throw it at my head. "That man is asking you to ask him to kiss you. He is holding the door open and waiting on you to walk through it."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Preferably using the words kiss and me."

I was useless all day. My second period discussed symbolism while I stared at the clock, and I let a junior call the green light a metaphor for capitalism without correcting him.

I typed six texts during my planning period and deleted all of them. Hey. Hi. Good afternoon. One of them started with Per our previous conversation, which is when I put my forehead on my desk.

Finally, at two forty, I typed the only thing that did not make me sound like a woman drafting a memo.

RUE: Are you busy tonight?

The response came in under a minute.

BOBBY JO: Depends who's asking…

I nearly threw my phone across the classroom.

RUE: You know exactly who's asking.

BOBBY JO: I'll pick you up at six. Wear something you don't mind sitting in the grass in.

RUE: That is a deeply concerning sentence.

BOBBY JO: Trust me, Teach.

He brought barbecue sandwhiches in a paper bag and drove us out past the county line. There was an overlook above the river, where somebody had put in two picnic tables and then apparently forgotten about them. The sun was going down behind the ridge, and the water below us had gone gold and copper.

This might be a little to cute, I looked around enjoying the entire view.

It was better than the Barn Yard, because there was no waiter, no wine list, and nobody performing for anybody.

"You always this nervous?" Bobby Jo asked, handing me a sandwich.

I frowned a bit. "I'm not nervous."

"You've straightened that napkin four times."

I put the napkin down. He was wearing a faded T-shirt and jeans, and the last of the light caught his hair and turned it almost white. Up close he smelled like soap and cedar with something dusty underneath it that I decided must be concrete.

He told me about a pour that went sideways because a homeowner decided at the last minute that the driveway should be nine feet wider. I told him about the capitalism metaphor, and he laughed so hard he had to set his drink down.

"Hamilton talks about your girl all the time," he said. "All day. Regina said this, Regina wants that, Regina's got him doing a Whole30. Grown man eating almonds out of a Ziploc bag on a job site."

I grinned. "That explains so much about his mood."

Bobby Jo took a sip of his drink. "That man would walk into traffic for her."