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“It’s pride,” he shot back, stepping further into the aisle, his boots leaving wet prints on the old wood floor. “Pure stubborn pride, same as your mother had. You lost everything over some ranch hand, and you’re gonna sit there and tell me that ain’t foolish?”
“Rhett’s my best friend,” I said, my voice rising despite myself. “And you fired him over nothin’. Over lies some jackass cooked up to stir trouble. That ain’t foolish either, Daddy, that’s just plain decent.”
“Decent.” He spat the word out like it tasted bad. “You call losin’ your inheritance decent? You call livin’ above a diner decent?”
“I call it better than livin’ under your roof and your rules,” I said. “You want me to fall in line, but I ain’t gonna do that. Not for you, not for nobody. And especially when you treat people like dirt just because they’re a little different from you.”
He stared at me for a long moment, rain still dripping steadily off his hat onto the floor between us, and something flickered behind his eyes that might’ve been hurt if I didn’t know better. But he covered it quickly, same as he always did, tucking it back behind that hard mask he’d worn my whole life.
“You could do the same, you know?” I added, quieter now. “Change your mind. Ain’t too late for that.”
“I ain’t changin’ my mind,” he said, flat and final. “And you’ll come around too, once you run out of charity to live off of. Once Dolly gets tired of feedin’ you for free and that preacher gets tired of payin’ you in pocket change. You’ll come home then, and you’ll leave that boy behind where he belongs.”
“That ain’t ever gonna happen.”
“We’ll see.” He turned, already heading back toward the doors, pulling his hat down lower against the rain waiting outside. “You know where to find me when you’re ready to quit playin’ this fuckin’ game.”
The doors banged shut behind him, and the sound echoed through the empty nave louder than the storm outside. I stood there for a long moment, my hands curled into fists at my sides, my chest heaving like I’d just run all the way from the ranch instead of just standing still and taking his words.
Mike came back down the aisle slowly, his face gentle and careful. He didn’t say anything right away, just stood beside me and let the quiet settle in for a minute.
“You alright?” he asked finally.
“No,” I admitted, my voice cracking a little. “But I will be.” I shook my head. “And he calls me stubborn…”
“Seems like it runs in the family,” Mike replied. “Don’t get me wrong though. I’m on your side. It’s damn good for you to stand up for your friend.” He reached out to squeeze my shoulder once before picking his hymnals back up. “Take your time,” he said. “These pews aren’t going anywhere.”
I nodded, though it took me a good long while before my hands stopped shaking enough to pick the ratchet back up.
I worked through the rest of the storm in a kind of numb, mechanical rhythm, tightening bolts I’d already tightened twice, just to keep my hands busy while my mind sorted through everything my daddy had said. By the time the rain let up and Mike sent me home for the day, the sky had gone that washed-out gray color that came after a good hard storm and there were puddles standing deep in the potholes along Main Street.
I didn’t go straight back to Dolly’s. I walked the long way instead, past the feed store and down along the edge of the creek where the water was running high and muddy from the rain. I needed the extra time to shake off the sound of my daddy’s voice before I saw Rhett again. I didn’t want him seeing me all wound up like this. Didn’t want him thinking it was his fault, same as he’d been doing since the day it all happened.
By the time I climbed the stairs up to the apartment, the sun was starting to break back through the clouds, throwing long gold light across the wet street below. I figured Rhett would be inside, probably napping off the last of his sore ribs. Instead, I saw through the diner window as I passed by, tucked into our usual booth. I went inside to find him holding a cup of coffee that had gone cold with mud caked thick up the sides of his boots.
“Hey,” I said, sliding into the seat across from him. “Thought you’d still be at the apartment.”
“Went out lookin’ for work,” he said, not quite meeting my eyes. “Feed store, hardware store, even asked over at the auction barn if they needed extra hands. Nobody’s hirin’. Or nobody wants to hire me, more like.”
“Rhett—”
“It’s fine.” He tightened his fingers around the coffee mug. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
I looked at his boots again, thick with mud clear up past the ankle, and felt something twist hard in my chest. He’d probably walked a long way today in some attempt to help our situation. But from the way he was acting, it clearly hadn’t gone well.
“My daddy came by the church today,” I said, figuring if he was going to tell me about his miserable day, I ought to return the favor.
That got his attention. His head came up fast, eyes sharp despite how tired he looked. “What’d he want?”
“Wanted to tell me I was bein’ foolish. Wanted me to come home and leave you behind.” I shook my head, staring down at the scarred wood of the table. “Same as always. Nothin’ new.”
“West, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t,” I said, reaching across the table to still his hand before he could finish that sentence. “Don’t you dare apologize again. This ain’t your doin’. It’s his. Every bit of it.”
Rhett looked at me for a long moment. “Does he know? About us I mean?”
I shook my head. “No. He might suspect, but he didn’t say as much. Seems to think I’m just bein’ a stubborn fool for defendin’ you. But he’s the stubborn one. I ain’t gonna stop defendin’ you until the day I die.”
