Page 4 of All My Love

Only problem is, my boy gets hooked on things. Obsessed, passionate—however you’d describe an all-consuming fixation—that’s what he’s got. Since I’ve always played an active part in helping work my own ranch, despite the five-man crew that helps, I don’t have as much time to skip stones, but I always try.

Ev takes him when she can, but Ev is also planning her wedding, which understandably takes precedence.

“I’ll take you when I get back,” I promise, knowing that the chickens need to be fed, the coop needs a repair, there’s a fence pole down on the east side of the property, and I need to call someone to come out and assess the fungus on the old oak out front. I love that tree, I don’t want to lose it. But the soil in the last few years has evolved, becoming not just less fruitful but somewhat degrading to the trees and some bushes. I guess I’ll see what the guy says when he comes out.

Either way, I have time to skip stones on the water with Bear today. “I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Yeah!” he cheers, running off, leaving my sister to collect the phone and return to me.

“You there?”

I laugh. “Yeah. I’m here. Thanks again for today,” I tell Ev, navigating my truck onto the dirt road that leads to our place. We’re not far from the center of town, yet another reason why my property is perfect for the farmers market.

“Sure–” she pauses, “oh, there you are. All right, we’ll see you in a few.”

“Okay,” I say, readying my thumb to end the call, butEv’s voice calls out again, so I press the receiver to my ear one more time.

“Dolly’s out there painting so… careful not to kick up dirt if you park near the oak.”

I end the call, and narrow my gaze to the base of the massive oak, spotting a tiny, huddled-over figure. The closer I get to the house, the clearer she becomes.

Dolly, the twenty-year-old girl that lives next door. She is an artist. A painter, to be more specific. She makes greeting cards for her business—Designed by Dolly—but in her hobby time, she paints full canvases of nature. She’s out here all the time from what it seems, because every time I come out, she’s there. Painting.

Parking as far away from her as I can, as not to disrupt, I step out of my truck and click the door closed, also not wanting to startle her. But no matter how quiet I try to be, it seems like whenever my eyes go to hers, she’s already found me.

“Hey, Dolly,” I greet, lifting my filthy hand in the air as I glance over at her place. She lives there with her two sisters. Her older sister Juniper has been raising her for years, since their father passed early. I never grew up around a house like that, and though all three of them are vastly different, they’re all good seeds. I think if Ev and I would’ve lost our Mom and Dad any earlier, it would’ve wrecked us. But Juniper has clearly kept herself and her sisters on track. “What are you working on?” I ask, moseying over for a minute, waving at Ev who’s standing in the kitchen, smiling out the bay window.

Wide blue eyes pinned on me, the way they always do, I have half a mind to tell Juni one day how impressed I amwith the manners her sisters have. She never fails to make eye contact with me when we speak, and she’s always so damn thoughtful.

Smiling, she turns her canvas to show me. The entire thing is a mix of blues and grays, with white sponged over the top to create what looks like gauzy clouds. “A sky on the cusp of rain,” she says finally after I analyze it quietly for a moment.

My gaze flicks to hers, and I smile. “It’s beautiful. You’ve got talent. Have you ever thought of selling these alongside your cards? I’m sure the folks in town would love them.”

Her eyebrows lift as if I’ve jostled something free in her brain, and she reaches into her apron pocket, digging around a minute. Moments later, she extends her hand to me, a tiny two inch by three inch canvas in her hand. I peer down at it, a twitch in my gut as I realize what it is.

“The creek,” I say, smiling at the painting that looks exactly like Bear’s favorite place. I flip it in my palm, seeing black paint on the back.TO BEAR, FROM DOLLY.

“It’s for Bear,” she says quietly, my eyes holding hers.

“He will love this,” I tell her just as Ev opens the screen door.

“We’re gonna paint one together, soon. But for now, this should make him happy,” Dolly says. Bear’s head pops up on the horizon, the air suddenly full of echoed laughter.

“Daddy!” Bear shouts, racing toward me full speed, his pockets filled to the brim with his skipping stones. “You ready?You ready?”

“Hi, Dolly,” Ev calls to our neighbor from the porch. “Hey, does Juniper have any of her clementine jam?” Ev wrings her hands in a dish towel that hangs from the pocketof her jeans. “I’d like to take some to the bakery this week, for a filling possibility.”

Dolly collects her things and makes her way toward Everly, and the two of them chat about wedding cakes and what flavors would work well with clementines. I slip the little painting in my pocket, and take Bear by the hand, heading for the creek.

Halfway there, Bear gets tired of holding all the stones, and attempts to offload them into some of my pockets. I take out the tiny painting Dolly did for Bear so it doesn’t get ruined.

She’s so thoughtful when it comes to us.

Looking at the graphite-colored river rock in my palm, I say a little wish, because skipping stones and blowing dandelions are one in the same when you live in the country.

I’m not actively doing anything to make this wish come true but I hope one day, I meet someone who cares about my son as much as I do, someone to share skipping stones and sunsets with. For him, but for me, too.

The stone skitters over the surface, leaving a trail of beautiful rippling water in its wake. Next to me, my son jumps and claps. I pocket the painting.

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