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I laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” A girl shouted at me to get her a margarita, so I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder as I mixed it. “When are they going to let you out?”

“Probably by the end of the week if I keep progressing.”

The margarita girl paid me, but didn’t tip. “Is your favourite colour pink?” I asked Shae-Lynn.

“Yeah, I guess. I like lilac too. Why?”

“It’s a surprise. What’s your lucky number?”

“Thirteen.”

“That’s not lucky.”

“That’s why I chose it. Nobody else chooses it, so it leaves more luck for me.”

I turned my back to the line of people, so I wouldn’t be distracted. “You’re weird. Is there anything else that means a lot to you or brings you luck?”

“What are you asking for?”

“I told you; it’s a surprise.”

Stephanie shoved my arm. “Billy, either get off the phone or take it to the office.”

“I can work and talk.” I picked up a bottle of bourbon to prove it.

“Yeah, not with whoever that is.”

“Hold on a second, Shae-Lynn.” I covered the phone with my hand so she wouldn’t hear me talking to Stephanie. “What are you talking about?”

“The ladies come in here to see Billy Ray Ryan working behind the bar. They buy drinks and leave big tips hoping that maybe he might want to take them home at the end of the night. If he’s busy talking on the phone with his girlfriend acting all lovey-dovey, he kills the illusion.”

“She’s not my girlfriend and I’m not acting lovey-dovey. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve seen you flirt with at least a thousand girls and I have never seen you smile like that. Trust me, you’re killing the illusion. Take it into the office, cowboy.” She shooed me.

“She’s just a friend, but if you want me to take a break I will.” I grinned at her and trotted around the end of the bar. Once I was in the hall that led to the office, I spoke back into the phone, “Hey, sorry about that.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

“No, she just told me I could take a break if I wanted to talk to you for a while. She thinks you’re my girlfriend.”

“Oh. Doesn’t she know you’re not the boyfriend type?”

I sat at Stephanie’s desk and put my feet up. “She must have noticed that I’ve changed.”

“Right. I forgot you’re trying the committed thing. I doubt you’ve changed enough in one day to make a noticeable difference.”

I grabbed a pen and doodled on the pad of paper. “When I set my mind to achieving a goal, I learn fast.”

“It’s more important to do it well than to do it fast.”

“I can do both.”

She snorted as if she didn’t believe I could do it, or she wasn’t interested in the topic of conversation anymore. I couldn’t tell. “How long are your breaks?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never taken one before.” I looked down at the pad of paper and realized I was sketching a girl on a horse running the barrels.

When I didn’t say anything for a while, she asked, “Have you put together an ad for selling Stella?”

“Not yet. I haven’t had time. I’ll get to it.”

“I can do it if you want. How much do you want for her?”

“I was thinking about asking twenty, but you don’t have to do it for me.”

“It’s okay. I have my laptop. It will give me something to do tomorrow. Maybe Tawnie should ride her again to show her off.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, then changed the subject. “If you won a hundred thousand dollars what would you do with it?”

“Are you thinking about entering the stock contractor event?”

“No, I’d rather work three jobs. I was just wondering what a person without money troubles would do with a hundred thousand dollars.”

“Um, I would pay off your brother’s gambling debt so you could stop worrying all the time. I would buy some art supplies for the daycare. I would buy my dad a new truck and my mom would probably like a kitchen reno. I would buy Lee-Anne a new saddle or something. If there were any left, I would donate it to the charities that I volunteer for. Oh, and I’d buy you a new pair of boots too.”

“What’s wrong with my boots?” I looked over at them, propped up on the desk.

“They’re old and scuffed up.”

“I like them that way.”

“You can keep the old ones, but you should also have a nice pair for special occasions.”

“Like for dates and things?”

“Yeah, like dates.”

I smiled because I could tell by her tone that she was smiling. “You didn’t mention that you would buy yourself anything with the hundred thousand.”

“I don’t need to. I would get the most pleasure from the money by seeing the people I care about happy.”

“God, you’re a nice girl. Maybe you’ll rub off on me a little.” I wrote her name under the sketch I had completed.

“Is that supposed to be some sort of sexual innuendo?”

I laughed. “No, if I meant for it to be sexual, I would have said something about me rubbing off on you.”

Instead of responding to that, she said, “I should let you get back to work before you get fired.” She took a deep breath and sounded so peaceful.

“I like how you do that.”

“What?” she asked.

“You have a way about you that makes me feel at ease. I don’t know how you do it, but I have a shit load of troubles and you make me forget all about them.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

“Well, it’s true.”

She was quiet, so I just listened to her breathing.

“Did I make you smile?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Call me tomorrow so I can do it again.”

She exhaled slowly before speaking. “Um, Billy, what are you doing?”

Although, I knew exactly what she was getting at, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why?” She made a frustrated sound. “Ugh, I don’t know. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

My heart sped up and Stephanie’s office felt as if someone had cranked up a furnace. Admitting that I was without a doubt flirting with her, and acknowledging what was obviously going on between us excited and scared the shit out of me at the same time. “Shae-Lynn, I—” I rubbed my face trying to work up the nerve. “I, um. I don’t know what to say. I just really like talking to you. If you don’t want me to call, or if you think Nate wouldn’t like it or something, I won’t.”

There was complete silence on the other end of the line. Finally, she said, “I like talking to you too.”

I smiled, happy that she said exactly what I wanted to hear her say. “All right then. I’ll call you tomorrow. Good night.”

“Night.”

I waited for her to hang up before I did. Then I went back to work with a big goofy grin on my face.

Two weeks later, I walked into the house after working at Hank’s and my mom called me from her bedroom, “Billy, is that you?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you mind coming in here for a second? I need some help.”

I walked down the hall and opened her door. She was sitting up in bed, looking pale. “What’s up?”

“I’m having an off day.”

“Do you want me to take you to the doctor?”

“No.” She dismissed my concern with a weak wave. “I’ll be fine once I rest for a while.”

“Why’s it so hot in here? Did the AC break?”

“No. I just don’t have it turned on. It’s expensive to have it running all the time.”

“Yeah, well, you’re going to pass out in this heat.” I turned the air conditioning knob on the wall. “Do you need anything else?”

“Maybe just make dinner for yourself and Cole. I also need my knitting bag off the top shelf in the closet.”

The shoebox next to the bag of knitting supplies accidentally slid off when I moved it. I tried to catch it, but I ended up flipping it upside down. The contents, which were mostly photos and letters scattered on the floor. “Shit. Sorry.”

She tried to stand, but she obviously didn’t feel strong enough. Her knees collapsed and she had to sit back down on the edge of the mattress. I gathered up the photos and letters into piles and stacked them back in the box. One caught my attention. It was a picture of my dad with a blonde woman sitting on his lap, kissing his cheek. He had a beer in one hand and his other hand was resting on the curve of her ass. I remembered her from when I was a kid. She used to sometimes make meals for Cole and me when we were touring with our dad. For a long time I just thought she was a friend of the family. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized she was one of his mistresses.

“What is all this?” I asked.

“Nothing. Just some things that belonged to your dad.”

I flipped through the other photos and read bits of the letters. They were basically love letters from a bunch of different women. “Why would you keep these?”

She shrugged. “They were obviously important to him, so I didn’t want to throw them out. I would have buried them with him, but I didn’t find them until after the funeral.”

“Did you already know?”

“Of course. You know how people gossip on the circuit.”

Yeah, I guess I’d always kidded myself into believing she didn’t know what was going on all those years. “Why did you stay with him?”

She shrugged as if she felt she had no choice. “What was I supposed to do? I was nineteen years old with two babies, no job, and a tenth grade education.”

I sat on the floor and leaned my back against the wall. Each photo had a different girl hanging off him. Cole and I were in a couple of the shots. It made me feel sick seeing how happy my dad looked with the other women, and he didn’t care that he was acting that way in front of his kids. I tore up the photos one at a time. “You shouldn’t have let him treat you like that.” I ripped up the letters and threw the shreds into the box. “Why’d you let us tour with him by ourselves if you knew how he was carrying on?”

“He was a good dad. You know that.”

I stood up and closed the lid. I placed her knitting on the bed. “A good dad wouldn’t have taught his sons that it was okay to cheat on his wife or put them in the position of having to lie to their mom. I’m throwing this out.”

Her eyes closed in a heavy, tired blink. “Can I get a hug?”

Feeling guilty for stressing her out when she was already having a bad day, I sat next to her on the bed. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and squeezed. Her arms felt frail and it made me sad. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too.” She brushed my hair back off my forehead. “I got a part-time job today.”

“What? You don’t need to work. I’m taking care of the bills.”

“It’s just an easy data entry job at the bank — a couple hours on Tuesday and Thursday mornings.”

“Did the doctor say it was okay?”

She shrugged to avoid admitting that he hadn’t. “I found out that your dad had some more debt I didn’t know about. I had to use most of what was left from the insurance money to pay the collection agency.”

“You still have what’s left from selling the ranch, right?”

“No. I had to use that to pay for your medical expenses last summer. Not everything was covered by the insurance.”

“Jesus, Mom. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have taken care of it.”

“I took care of it.” She picked up her knitting needles. “There’s nothing left now though.”

“You don’t have to work. I’ll figure something out.”

“I want to work. I feel better when I stay active.” Her hands trembled to convey that the opposite was true.

“I’ve got over ten thousand in my tuition savings. That will keep us going for a while.”

“No. You’re going to school. It’s going to be fine. I can apply for a loan at the bank or something.”

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair, thinking about the fifty grand Cole also owed. The front door opened and footsteps crossed the wood floors of the living room.

“You go on and make Cole something to eat. I’m not feeling up to talking about finances right now, all right?” She slid up to rest her back against the pillows, then continued her knitting to end the conversation.

I watched her for a while before heading to the kitchen with the shoebox. Cole was standing in front of the fridge leaning on the open door as if he hoped a meal would leap out at him. “I don’t suppose you found yourself a job today?” I snapped.

“Nope. Seems like nobody is that keen on hiring a mental case.” He closed the fridge and sat at the kitchen table. “Why’s it so damn hot in here?”

“Mom is trying to cut expenses by not running the AC. She just told me there’s no money left.”

“I’ll sell my truck.”

“That will only cover part of what you owe. Besides, you need your truck. I’m not chauffeuring you around.”

“I’ll drive Dad’s truck.”

I glanced over my shoulder in the direction of the door that led off the kitchen to the garage. The Chevy had been parked in the garage since we moved Mom into the house. I wanted to sell it, but Cole sat in it at least once a week smoking cigarettes and listening to the radio, so I hadn’t yet. “Dad’s truck guzzles gas,” I said.

“Well, I’m not letting you sell his truck, so if we need the money, I’ll sell my truck. What’s for dinner?”

I looked in the freezer and took out some frozen ground beef. “Chilli. It’s going to be a while though. Make some nachos as an appetizer.” I put the meat in the microwave to defrost it, opened some cans of beans, and dumped them into the chilli pot.

Cole spilled tortilla chips out of the bag onto a pan. He diced tomatoes, then reached over to turn the garburator on. It made the same horrific grinding sound that it had been making for two weeks. Then the water backed up into the sink.

“You promised you’d fix that.” I mumbled, trying to restrain my frustration.

“I will. It needs a new part. I haven’t had time.”

“If you’re assuming that if you procrastinate long enough I’ll do it for you, don’t. I’m not fixing it for you this time. Especially since you broke it by doing exactly what I told you not to do.”

“A pepper is a vegetable. You said vegetables were all right.”

“Not the damn stem and not with beer bottle caps. I told you a million times not to leave the caps in the sink.”

“Whatever. I’ll fix it. What’s in that box?” He nodded to where I had left it on the counter.

“Nothing. Just some of Dad’s old shit. I’m throwing it out.”

“Don’t.”

“It’s a box of love letters and photos of his mistresses. I already ripped them up. It’s garbage.”

“Oh.” He grated the cheese for the nachos. “Don’t throw out any of his rodeo stuff, or things from when he was a kid.”

I glanced over at him, surprised that he was finally open to talk about Dad. “If you want to go through that stuff, it’s in a wooden box in my closet.”

“I don’t want to go through it. Just don’t throw it out.”

“The psychiatrist said it might be good if you found a way to say goodbye and start to process your grief.” I glanced at him to gauge his mood. “Since you didn’t go to the funeral and you don’t talk about it with anybody.”

He opened the oven door and slid the pan of nachos onto the rack. “Are you listening to yourself?”

I shrugged because I knew it sounded preachy. “I’m only telling you what she said.”

“I don’t need to be told what to do. Just don’t throw his shit out and don’t sell his truck.”

My phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I’d been getting inquiries about Stella from the ad Shae-Lynn had posted, so I answered it. It was a woman who was interested, but it didn’t sound like she was really ready to buy a horse. When I finished talking to her, Cole was eating scorched nachos and the chilli was exactly how I left it.

“Seriously? You couldn’t at least brown the meat and put it in the pot?”

“I don’t know how to make chilli. I burned the nachos for Christ’s Sake.”

I got a frying pan out of the cupboard and slammed the door shut. “Are you really useless or do you just pretend so nobody ever asks you to do anything?”

“It’s a chicken and egg thing.” He chuckled, taking it about as seriously as he took everything. “I can’t remember which came first anymore.”

“Well, you’re not living with me forever, so you better learn how to at least feed your damn self.”

“That’s what drive-thrus and wives are for.”

“Good luck getting a wife if that’s what you think she’s for.”

“I wouldn’t say it to her face.” He smiled and shoved a crusty black stack of chips into his mouth.

I browned the meat in the frying pan, then mixed all the rest of the ingredients and spices in the pot. My phone rang again. I smiled because it was Shae-Lynn. We’d talked every day she was in the hospital, and we’d kept on calling each other even after she’d returned home to Calgary. “Hey,” I said quietly. “Hold on one minute. I just need to go to my room.”

Cole sensed the change in my mood and threw a potholder at me. “Who are you talking to?”

“None of your business.” I threw it back at him and turned the element down. “Stir this every once and a while so it doesn’t burn.”

“Is it Tawnie?”

“No. Shut up.” I walked out of the kitchen.

“Since when do you gab on the phone with girls?” he shouted down the hall after me.

“Don’t let the chilli burn. I’m going to be a while,” I shouted back.

I knew Cole was going to let the chilli burn, but I didn’t care. I stretched my legs out and leaned back on my pillows because I planned on talking to her for as long as she would let me.