Meadowlarks (10 page)

             
“Mmm?” she makes a small sound but doesn't awaken.

             
“Nothing. Go to sleep, beautiful girl.” I tenderly kiss her nose.

             
“Mmm...” she makes the noise again. “Love you.” She says it so softly I almost don't hear it.

Did I hear it?
Damn...

             
I eventually fall asleep too. Her alarm clock shows 3:53 when I open my eyes, needing to use the bathroom. Getting out of bed as slowly and quietly as I can, I try not to wake the sleeping angel—
who just told me she loved me.

             
Flicking the bathroom light on, I'm momentarily blinded by the four bright bulbs above the vanity. My eyes still adjusting, I look at myself in the mirror, still playing those two words over and over in my head.

             
“
Love you
.” I mouth the words and rub my eyes, then rake my hands through my hair.

Something makes a noise downstairs, and I turn around, remembering Luca was lying at the foot of the bed when I left her bedroom. I wonder to what could be down there.
              Tiptoeing down the carpeted steps, I peek into the darkness and see light coming from the refrigerator door. Alex is standing there, holding it open, and drinking straight from the juice carton. I clear my throat, and he turns, still drinking. Some juice trickles down his face.

             
“Ugh, hey,” I start to say. “I'm Blaine.”

             
He swallows the last of the juice in his mouth loudly and wipes his mouth with his sleeve.               “Hey, man. Addy told me about you.” He points up towards the ceiling, “She sleeping?”

             
I nod that she is, and he looks relieved.

             
“Good, I don't need a lecture at four AM.” He stretches to look at the clock on the microwave. “Juice?” Alex holds the carton out to me.

             
“No, thanks.” I kindly decline and wave my hand at the carton.

             
He sits down at the small table in the kitchen and pushes the opposite chair out with his foot. “Sit down and tell me about yourself, Blaine.”

             
I'm a little surprised that her brother wants to have a heart-to-heart with me at this hour while she's sleeping upstairs. But I sit down anyway, and when I do, I remember I'm only wearing boxers. Fantastic.

             
I must make some type of embarrassed expression because Alex starts shaking his finger at me. “Heyyyy, I knew I recognized you! You're the guy from that animal food place who was staring at Addy the other day!”

             
Oh, fuck. Here we go.

             
He thumps his fist on the table like he's proud of himself for making the connection. He is smirking, and I feel stupid that I've let this little shit make me feel this way.

             
“Ha, yeah.” I laugh. “What can I say? She's remarkable.”

             
“Well, be good to her. She doesn't need another asshole to treat her like shit.” This time he's not smiling; he's serious.

I almost want to tell him to grow a pair and start acting like a man, to stop sponging off his sister, but I don't.

              Wanting to change the subject, I take the moment of silence to offer him a job.

“Addison tells me you might be interested in a job. I have a ranch, and I'm looking for another guy to help out a few days a week.”

              He doesn't say anything, but his eyes tell me he looks interested.

             
“My friend Jeremiah is there five days a week now. We work the farm and fields, tend to the animals and things like that.”

             
Still not saying anything, I'm compelled, and slightly irritated, to give more detail. “Something like eight AM to 4 or 5 PM. I could start you at fifteen bucks an hour.”

             
That was enough to seal the deal; he smiles and extends his hand for me to shake it.               “Sign me up, although I have no fucking clue about farm animals. Do I have to shovel shit and stuff?”

             
I try not to roll my eyes at him.               “Well yeah, there's that. But it's more about maintenance than shovelling shit...
and stuff
.”

             
“Okay, man. Thanks. I could really use the money,” he says, looking around him. “Maybe get my own place, ya know?”

             
Yeah, buddy, I know.

             
He needs to get his act together, and if doing this will help his sister, I don't mind putting up with him five days a week.

             
“Okay. Well, if you're up for it, Addison is coming out tomorrow for my father's birthday party. You're welcome to join her, you know, take a look at the place before your first day. Oh, and by the way—when would you be able to start?”

             
“Yeah, okay. I'll come. I have nothing else to do tomorrow. How's Monday? I like to sleep in on Sundays...do you expect me to work Sundays?”

             
He is
really
irritating, and I have to think about how much I care about his sister to push the annoyance away.

             
“Well, the occasional Sunday, yeah. There are rodeos and events that some of the animals and myself participate in. Sometimes they're on a Sunday.”

             
“Rodeo?! You're like, a real fuckin' cowboy, huh?”

             
The annoyance is back, and I have to look away, exhaling slowly.               “It would seem.” It's all I can muster, and I stand up; I have to get away from this kid. “I'm gonna go back to sleep now...” I point upstairs and say goodnight.

             
“Yeah, okay. Night, bro.” He stays sitting at the table, tipping the juice carton up to get every last drop.

             
Addison hasn't moved since I left the bed, but Luca has. He's now lying where I was, very comfortably, too. He looks at me like he's thinking, “You don't expect me to move, do you?”

             
I sigh.
Great, competition.

             
I gently tap my hand on my leg and whisper, “Come on, Luca,” trying to entice him to move. He does, slowly stretching before hopping off the end of the bed. I climb in beside her, pull her as close as I can and nuzzle the back of her neck. I fall asleep to the smell of green apple shampoo and a hint of dog.

             
Addison was up before me, like usual, and cooked a delicious breakfast of French toast with freshly ground coffee. I didn't mention anything about her sleepy admission of love, and she didn't say it again, so I'm pretty sure it wasn't something she knew she was saying.

             
I have to get to Lander's, and I apologize for dining and dashing. “I'm sorry, but I gotta get going. I have a bunch of things to pick up for the party.”

             
She briefly pouts but then smiles and tells me it is okay.

             
“Thank you for breakfast.”

             
“Be sure to fill out a comment card on your way out, handsome,” she jokes, wrapping her arms around me and kissing my cheek.

             
“See you this afternoon,” I say and kiss her nose, slipping on my shoes and heading out the door.

             
Lander's is swamped, which is no surprise for a Saturday morning. It looks like the same kids that were outside earlier in the week selling baked goods are back, so this time when I leave with my groceries, I buy two dozen butter tarts, lemon bars and some other cookie-ball things rolled in coconut.

             
“Thank you very much!” One of the kids' mothers touches my arm. “Let me carry these to your vehicle for you.”

I very obviously see her wink at another mom, and I almost laugh out loud.
              She follows me closely to my truck and thanks me again when she hands me the treats.               I grin and tip my hat, and she actually fans herself with her hand.

             
“Ma'am,” I say with all the country boy charm I can muster.

             
“Oh, call me Chelsea!” She flutters her lashes.

             
Okay, stop toying with the poor woman, you dick.

             
I close the back door and open the driver's to get in.               “Chelsea.” I smile at her, then pull out of the parking lot.

             
Someone tore into that bag of balloons and streamers and threw it up all over my farm. Or at least that’s what it looks like. I am astonished when I pull into my driveway and see the party crew has lost their minds and gone completely overboard with decorations.

             
My dad is going to have a fit, and I can actually picture him trying to push the pretend brake pedal in my brother's car so he doesn't have to pull into the yard. (You know, that pedal that you push when you're the passenger riding with an erratic driver, and they take a corner too fast or don't stop quickly enough.)

             
“Ho-ly shit...” I don't disguise my expression, and Kelsey looks extremely displeased that I haven't thrown myself down worshipping their creativity and suggest they start a party planning business.

Maria just laughs a
nd says, “Well, you only turn seventy once!”

             
I agree, but wow...

             
Jer is already here, too, and has the barbeque area all set up.

             
“Hey, Jer! Thanks for all your help, Maria couldn't stop talking about everything you've done this morning.” I slap his back, happy to see him.

             
“Yeah, she can really crack that whip,” he jokes and turns around when Gwen walks out of my house, putting her arm around his neck.

             
“Hi, Blaine. Lookin' good this morning.”

             
Is she actually doing this right now? Right in front of Jeremiah? What happened to the happy, bouncy girl who would just hug me and get it over with? I can’t deal with this woman-scorned bullshit.

             
I ignore her statement and smile my pearly whites. “Gwen! So good to see you.” I overdo it a tad but just can't help myself.

             
Addison and her brother show up right around four PM, and she looks breathtaking. Like the day I first saw her, she's wearing a light blue dress. The top clings to her chest, accentuating her lovely breasts and delicious curves. The rest flows down wider and ends with a lacy hem just above her knees. Her long curls are pulled back into a ponytail, swept over her shoulder. She looks like she just walked out of a New England country club, not a condo in Sheridan, Wyoming.

             
“I might have to take you into the barn and find a mound of hay, baby,” I whisper in her ear and twirl her around with my hand. “You look gorgeous.”

             
She blushes and kisses my cheek.

             
More and more guests arrive. I do the good son thing and mingle with everyone. I get many compliments on how well I've kept the ranch, and I tell them I couldn't have done it without Jeremiah.

             
Nick must have notified Maria that they were on their way, because she starts clapping her hands to draw everyone’s attention.               “The guest of honour is on the way!” she calls out.

             
Five minutes later, Nick's black Cadillac pulls in the driveway, and it takes everything in me not to burst, as I can see my father through the windshield looking around, pissed off and clearly cursing at everything he sees.

             
“Happy birthday, Bennett!” everyone almost on cue shouts joyously as he gets out of the car, and I can see in the minute before he opened his door that he composed himself. He is now smiling and thanking people as they approach him.

             
I don't rush over; I wait until he's close enough, and I walk up to him.               “Happy Birthday, dad.” I extend my hand, expecting him to shake it.

             
“Blaine. Did you do all this?” he doesn't shake it, and I drop my arm to my side, disappointed.

             
“No, the girls did, dad. I think it looks pretty good.”

             
Ignoring me, it takes him all of two seconds to notice Addison standing beside me, and it's like a switch gets flipped.

             
“Well, who might we have here?” he questions.

             
She extends her hand. “Hi, Mr. Blackstock. I'm Blaine's friend, Addison. Happy birthday!”

             
He takes her hand in his and pats the top with his other. “You are lovely, and thank you. Ignore that sign, too,” he says, pointing to the big banner. “It should say twenty-five with 45 years of experience.”

             
              “Bennett! Bennett! Come sit over here, will you?” Patricia Pattison, the store manager at Lander's, waves and beckons my Dad over.

             
He turns to go, but not before placing his hand on my shoulder as he passes.               “Keep her close, Blaine, my boy. One's like that don't come around often.”

             
I don't say a word. I just nod at him, then look over at Addison and smile.

             
There are only fifteen or so people left by eight o'clock, and most of them have been drinking far too much. In fact, someone threw up at the base of the giant oak tree beside the garage.

             
My father has also had his fair share, and I glance over at Nick, who is obviously thinking the same thing but just shrugs his shoulders.

Yeah, Maria is righ
t; you only turn seventy once.

             
Jeremiah and Owen start a fire in the pit, and we all pull our chairs around closely. Bobby, my nephew, and Alex have been gone for a few hours. They took my Gator for a rip, and we can hear them every now and then in the distance
yahoo-ing
and laughing.

             
I go inside to get a sweatshirt for Addison; she looks cold but probably won't ask me for anything. When I drape the blue hoodie around her shoulders, she looks up and smiles at me.

             
“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby.”

              My dad tells some story from when he was in school and bought his first truck, some old Ford that he ended up driving into a tree on a stormy night. He wasn't hurt, but the truck was totalled.

             
He moved on to another tale about making out with Clara (he can't recall her last name) before he dated my mother. They were caught behind the school with his hand in her shirt. He's very proud of himself as he recalls the account, and he finishes another bottle of beer.

Louie, the
now-retired butcher from Lander's is still here. He went to school with dad, and he loudly belly-laughs when he remembers the Clara incident as well.

             
“Yeah, Clara. She was a nice girl. But nothing compared to my Nicola...” Dad sighs.

             
My laughter stops.

             
He looks down at his hands, picking dirt or something out of his fingernail.

             
“God rest her soul.” Louie nods his head and takes a swig of his beer.

             
I look down at my hands too, not sure what to say or do. When I look up, my father is staring at me, and I feel like a fish in a barrel.

             
“Blaine. Did I thank you yet, for all the decorations?”               He's not smiling; actually, he has no expression at all.

             
“Yeah, dad, you did. Thank you, but like I said earlier, the girls put it all together.”               I feel five again, and I want to wrap myself in my mom's quilt.

             
“Right, yes, you did say that. Thank you Maria, Kels.”               He tips his bottle at each of them, and they both smile.

             
“Happy Birthday, Dad,” they say in unison.

             
He directs his gaze on Addison.
Here we go...

             
“Young lady, tell me about yourself.” He puts her on the spot, and everyone around the fire looks at her.

             
She surprises me when she responds right away. “Well, I'm new to Wyoming. My brother and I moved here from Maine. I'm actually starting a nursing position at the hospital this week.”

             
“Ooohhh!” Kelsey squeals and claps her hands. “You might get to work with Johnny; he's my brother's son, a nurse there, too!”

             
Addison smiles. “Which unit is he in? I'm hoping for the NICU, but for the first few months I'll be in emergency.”

             
“Oh, I'm not sure. I think he works in palliative care—you know, with
the
old folks
,” she says, blocking her mouth so my father doesn't see her words.

He clearly hears them and roars.
              “Kels, you stop making fun of this old man, you hear? You'll be sitting' here someday too, and your kids will make a big ol' banner for you.”

             
Conversations change here and there, and after people get driven home by some designated drivers, only Nick, Maria, Jeremiah, Gwen, Addison, Alex and Bobby, me and dad are left.

Bobby
gushes about the ride with Alex, and they both dramatically re-enact almost tipping the side-by-side over while cornering sharply.

             
“Sorry, uncle Blaine. We were trying to be careful.”               Bobby realizes I don't look amused.

             
“Uh huh…” I don't say anything else, but I do grin at him, and he relaxes.

             
“Oh, Bobby, don't worry about him. He got into enough trouble when he was your age, too. Why do you think I went grey so early?” Dad snorts.               “You know there was a time when these two little shits,” he says, pointing at Jeremiah and me, “stole a cow from the Wilson's farm and tied it to the flagpole at school.”

             
Jeremiah and I laugh, remembering.

             
Addison looks up and gapes at me.               “Blaine!”

             
I shrug and grin. Jeremiah laughs.

             
Dad goes to open another bottle, and Nick leans in.               “Dad, I think you've had enough. You don't want to be up all night.” He moves to take the bottle, and dad turns so he can't reach it.

             
“Now, listen here, Nicholas Blackstock. You aren't touching my beer, ya hear?”

             
Everybody knows that any parent means business when they use your first and last name together.

             
“I'm fine anyway, just enjoying my birthday with my family,” Dad continues. “What's the harm in that?”

             
“Nothing, dad.” Nick looks annoyed but knows when to argue with him and when not to. It's all about picking your battles—or so I've heard.

             
“Blaine, does this young lady know about your bull riding?”

             
I hadn’t mentioned it, so she nudges my arm with her elbow. “You didn't tell me you ride those bulls!”

             
“Well, yeah, but not for long anyway…Only a few seconds.” I wink at her.

             
“Addison, Blaine's actually really good. You should come to a show!” Jer backs me up.

             
Thanks, buddy.

             
“He's not
good
, Jeremiah. He's one of the best. Isn't that right?” Dad forms a gun with his index finger and thumb, points it at me, winks and makes a shooting noise with his mouth.

Trying not to act surprised, I'm actually dumbfounded. I don't understand why my father is acting like this. It must be because he's drinking. He's never bragged about me.
Ever
.

             
We talk a little more about the rodeo business, and Nick tells dad it's time to go. He's finally complacent and gets up out of the lawn chair to leave.

             
“Goodbye, my dear. It was a pleasure,” he says to Addison. “Make sure Blaine brings you around some time; you are very welcome in my home.” By
his
home, he means Nick and Maria's house.

             
“Thank you, Mr. Blackstock. I hope you had a good birthday.” She leans in to hug him, and he hugs her back.

             
“Goodnight, my son,” he says to me. I don't get a hug, but again, a pat on the shoulder. Hey, at least it's something.

             
“Night, Dad.” Is all I can muster at the moment; I'm still organizing and filing the events of tonight in different folders in my mind.

             
“Blaine.” Nick nods his head to the side, motioning me to come talk privately with him.