Page 96 of Extreme Romancing in Idaho

Papa dozed off and on as his pain ebbed and flowed with his med schedule.

On the rare occasions he requested to leave the confines of his room, we helped him into his La-Z-Boy, where he’d stay for the rest of the day, sometimes opting to sleep there where we could keep the fire stoked at night. Even with the summer heat, his body couldn’t produce enough of it to keep him warm, and nothing made Papa happier than sitting in his home next to his fire.

Lili, Blake, and Maddie had stopped by a few days ago. He’d said hi to the babies coming closer to their due date, reminding the boys of how much their Papa Tony loved them. But then Lili had been put on bed rest. That didn’t stop Renee from checking in every day. Rumors all but confirmed she was the giving angel in our town, the one leaving money in mailboxes and paying off bills for those with money troubles. I had no doubt she was the reason we were still financially afloat. But even Renee didn’t have enough money to keep our ship from sinking.

For the most part, Papa remained lucid, but as the cancer took over more of his body, he crept back in time. Sometimes, he recognized both me and Mama. Sometimes only Mama.

I’d moved our green-velvet wingback chair into his room. I sat in it next to Papa. The TV flashed against their log pole bed in the dark room. Night had descended in the middle of the old Clint Eastwood Western we’d been watching. Mama’s perfume and Papa’s aftershave still hung in their room, now underlying scents to medicine and sickness.

A young Eastwood’s face squinted against the sun, beads of sweat on his forehead, but my mind didn’t follow the dialogue. It cycled back to Dan’s attempted proposal. I should be more upset about losing him. Now all hope was lost. Without Remi’s mask of lies, I went back to being a boring Idaho farm girl. Too insignificant to love.

Which made me suspicious of proposal number two, Remi’s. However, his heart seemed to be in the right place. He’d taken over running the farm, providing me and Mama the ability to sit with Papa.

I still hadn’t given him an answer. True, he knew the real me and didn’t balk at my oddities. But his love, his proposal, couldn’t be trusted. No matter what he said, he’d do anything to own this land, even get himself locked in a monotonous, loveless marriage.

Would the trade-off be worth it? Do I risk losing my land and potential happiness to give Papa his dream? Marriages could be annulled, and Papa would go to his grave believing I’d found my match.

I shoved my fingers through my hair and leaned my head against the chair. Making a decision of this magnitude in my emotional state wasn’t the wisest choice. Yet each day drew me closer to the biggest loss I’d ever faced. If I hesitated too long, I’d lose my chance.

Light from the TV illuminated the patched hole where I’d shoved the doorknob through the sheetrock in a teenage fit—Mama hadn’t let me go to a New Year’s Eve party because she’d wanted me to stay home and be with the family on the last New Year’s before Jared went to college.

If only I’d known then what I do now. Time always ran out, and past moments could never be recaptured. I’d stayed in that night, but I pouted in my room, not even coming out to do the countdown with Jared, Mama, and Papa.

Now this December, I’d celebrate the end of this year without Papa. I choked on the tears in my throat, blinking at the water along the base of my eyes. I’d been so caught up in saving the farm, in Remi and Smoot … how many moments with Papa had I let slip by?

I usually couldn’t stand boredom, and now I wished I could have it as my constant companion.

Boredom implied the absence of something. Absence of grief, absence of big life changes like a parent dying, selling your childhood home, welcoming new lives into the world. Not to mention, Remi dropped a missile in the middle of my life by telling me he loved me and proposing to me.

Yes, I could use a dose of boredom in my life.

Holding onto Papa’s hand, I leaned over on the white down comforter. The sounds of Mama cooking in the kitchen echoed in the room. I closed my eyes …

The smell of the barn, Mae, the haystack in the warm night, fireworks exploding in the sky.Angie … I love you.

Rappelling. A wall of rock behind me. Arid dirt clouding into the air. Remi’s bass voice resonating in my chest.Marry me.

The lid from a tin can peeled back, and I looked inside to see my life unfold as if I’d accepted his proposal. A white house on my land, and a couple of children playing with us and our puppy in the yard, all the while Mae trotted in a pasture covered in bright green grass. Remi stood in the front yard.Angie.

“Angie …” Remi’s voice morphed into someone else’s.

My world moved back and forth.

“Angie.” Another sharp whisper cut through my mind.

I opened my eyes and shot up, hitting something solid with my head on the way.

“Ow!”

My eyes locked on the owner of the voice.

“Dude, I think you broke my jaw.” Jared rubbed his chin, opening and closing his mouth. Decked out in a black leather jacket with chains hanging from his pockets, thick eyeliner, and painted, black nails. Dark leather draped over his Nine Inch Nails T-shirt, half tucked into his torn, acid-washed jeans.

Ignoring the soft pain thrumming in my own head, I smiled. Some things never changed, and Jared was one of them. I threw my arms around him and squeezed. “You came.”

His gaze locked onto Papa’s sleeping form. “Mama called. I found a couple of days to come home and say my goodbyes.” His voice broke on the last word, and he wiped his palms along his bottom eyelids.

More tears gathered in my eyes and ran down my cheeks. I hated that word. Goodbye. I never wanted to say it again.

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