The second she spots her, Lulu starts lifting her head up and down and practically trying to leap over the stall door.
“Lulu!” Camdyn shouts, rushing forward.
Beside me, Sev tugs on my arm. “Do yous like spiders?”
My eyes widen. “No. I hate them. Why?”
“There’s one on yous coat.”
I freak the fuck out and practically launch myself across the barn. Three things happen. I knock Sev over, which I feel shitty about. I land next to a calf named Poppy, who decides I look tasty and starts licking me. Poppy then decides I’m a good place to sit and takes a load off. Right on my lap. Let me tell you, Poppy is a lot heavier than she looks. And the third thing, I’d rather not discuss, but if you must know… during my freak out, I landed right on a big old stinky pile of Poppy shit.
Camdyn and Sev’s giggles fill the barn. “You sat in poop!”
I’m mortified and sick to my stomach, because I don’t know where that spider went, but I laugh too because they are. And it’s kinda funny when you think about it. City girl’s first trip inside a barn and she lands in shit.
Fitting.
They want a mommy for Christmas. I’m crying.
KACY
Back at the house, I have the evidence of our mishap with the cows under wraps and both girls clean. Nobody will know what happened. Unless they tell. They probably will. It’s too funny not to.
“I’m really sorry ’bout your shirt. Here, you can wear this.” Camdyn pushes one of Barron’s shirts at me. “Daddy won’t mind.”
I take the shirt from her and want to bring it to my nose and inhale sharply, but I resist. “Thank you. Do you think he’d mind if I wash my clothes?” It’s not like I can walk over to the shop and let myself in to get my bags. I’m going to have to wait for Barron. But I could wash my clothes I have here, right?
Please say right because my clothes are covered in cow shit and smell rancid.
Camdyn leads me into what looks to be a mudroom cased in rich-stained board and batten-style wood with black slate floors. Boots, saddles, reins, jackets, everything you would imagine in a rancher’s home is in there lining the walls. It smells like leather and man. She gestures to the large machines against the wall. “Put them in there.”
I’ve never done laundry. I don’t even know how to turn them on. I used to drop my laundry off at Lou’s every Friday, and he’d have it back to me on Saturday mornings. I swallow over the anxiety rising in my throat. “Do you know how to use it?”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Her hand jets to her hip. “You don’t know?”
“I’ve never done laundry,” I admit, fully prepared for a five-year-old to cross-examine me on my life.
“Oh, I show you.” Scooting a stool over to the machines, she grabs the detergent. “You have to take your clothes off.”
“Right.” Camdyn covers her eyes, as if she’s had to do this before, and I fight the urge to ask. Discretely, I slip my shirt and soaked jeans off, leaving me in my bra and underwear. Quickly, I put on Barron’s shirt that practically reaches my knees. “So I put them in the washer?”
“Yep.” Dumping a good amount of the detergent in there, she closes the lid. Briefly, I wonder if that’s too much soap, but she probably knows more than I do. Pushing the button on the front, it lights up and chirps. “Then it washes it.”
“Perfect.”
Stepping down from the stool, she looks up at me. “I’m hungry.”
“Let’s find some food then.”
We end up finding some frozen burritos that Camdyn eats but Sev won’t touch. “You know that thing that happened with the Poppy?” I ask the girls nervously, trying to block out the memory of me taking a nosedive into cow shit.
They both smile and nod.
“Let’s not tell your dad about that.”
They giggle, but you know, they don’t promise me shit. I have a feeling it’s the first thing they’re going to tell him.
As the sun begins to drop in the sky, the horizon full of pinks, purples, and orange reflecting off the frosty white ground, I put our plates in the sink and wash them. I think about Barron. It’s not the first time he’s entered my mind today. I am wearing his shirt, but it’s the first time I get this aching feeling in my chest that a life with him could be wonderful. I stitch up a plan in my head that doesn’t exist. Kinda like the one where I thought Prince Charming was going to rescue me. Only he turned out to be fucking my mom on the side.
But this plan, the one where I’m watching a sunset, feels like something that could happen. I envision every detail of it, so clearly, and it’s effortless. I could stay, and this could be my life, couldn’t it? These could be my kids’ giggles ringing through the house. And Barron could be my husband, out working the ranch, and soon he’ll be home to claim me as his while wearing his Carhartt jacket, his beard tickling my tender neck. I could be pregnant with his baby and have the Southern life I always dreamed about.
But none of that will happen because that’s just a dream. One that will never happen when he realizes who I know.
Beside me, Sev hands me a spoon, a pot, and what looks to be a baby tooth. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but it’s creepy. “Turn that thing on,” she demands, pointing to the stove again.
I raise an eyebrow and turn to face her. “Why?” I dare to ask.
“I’m making a mom.”
“A what?”
“A mom,” she deadpans, still staring at me. Then she clanks the spoon to the pot. “I need milk and blue sparkles.”
“Why blue sparkles?”
“Her eyes have to be blue, like mines.”
I grin. “What color is her hair gonna be?” Don’t say blonde like your mom.
She stares at my hair and then reaches for it. I’m not sure if she’s going to rip it out or what. “Dis color.”
“Auburn?”
She nods. My heart melts. “Do you want her to look like me?”
Another nod. And a grin.
I wrap one arm around her. “Well, let’s see what we can do.”
At the stove, I notice Sev is still itching, and the hives that were on her cheek have moved over to her eye. “Do they still itch?”
“No.” Only she’s itching them and clearly annoyed by having to do so.
“Why are you making a mom?” I ask, pouring milk and the blue sprinkles Camdyn hands me.
Camdyn stares up at me. “We want a mommy for Christmas.”
And my heart just burst in two.
“We asked Santa for one,” she goes on to say. “I hope he brings her to us.”
“Why do you want a mom so bad?” I feel like an idiot for asking that.
“We don’t have one.” Camdyn shrugs. “Do you?”
Pain hits my chest. “I do, but she’s not a very good one.”
“Why?” Sev asks, still itching. Now she has her shirt pulled up, itching her belly.
She fucked my boyfriend, but I don’t say that. “Sometimes moms aren’t what you want them to be.”
Sev looks at the pot with milk and blue sprinkles. “Our mommy’s pretty.”