Page 30 of Lost and Lassoed

“Your mom would be proud.” Dusty laughed, and so did Betty. It was well documented that Cam was competitive.

Betty set down our food and said, “You kids enjoy,” then walked over to Gus’s table to take their order.

“Better skedaddle if you want dinner, kid,” I said. “Your dad is waiting for you.”

Riley sighed—it was hard being six. “Ugh. Okay. ’Bye, Teddy. ’Bye, Dusty.”

After she scampered off, Dusty turned to me. “Is it just me or does Gus look like he has a stick up his ass more than usual?”

I glanced over at Gus, whose frown had deepened again. “Yeah, kinda,” I said. A wave of disappointment flowed through me; we had learned to coexist in a more neutral waythis week, but apparently our truce didn’t extend beyond the borders of Rebel Blue.

“What’s going on with him and that woman? She looks familiar.”

“Nicole James. She’s Riley’s soccer coach,” I said. “And she has a big fat crush on Gus—definitely wants to fuck him, and is perfectly positioned to do so because she has a daughter Riley’s age that Riley seems to like.” My voice was more bitter than I meant for it to be—I wasn’t sure why—but Dusty noticed.

“Not a big Nicole fan, huh?”

I scoffed and popped a fry into my mouth.

I looked back over at Gus’s table, at him and Riley sitting across from Nicole and Sara. They almost looked like a real family unit.

“Do you ever feel like you’re behind?” I blurted out.

His brow furrowed this time. “I’m not following, Ted. I’m not Emmy—you might have to use a couple more words for me to catch on.”

Solid point.

“Like…” I hesitated. “Does it bother you that everyone else is falling in love or getting married or having babies or planning on having babies and you and I are the same people we’ve always been?”

“What’s wrong with the people we’ve always been?” Dusty asked.

“Nothing. It’s just…I thought I would be settled by now. Not like married or with babies, but I thought…I would have a better idea of where I was going.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if I’d stayed here.” He was thinking about Cam, Iwas sure of it. “But if you hadn’t gone off to college, if I hadn’t gone and seen the world…I don’t think either of us would’ve been real happy with that, right?”

He had a point. I loved my small town, but I think that was partly because I’d gotten out of it for a bit, experienced life somewhere else. Meadowlark had the same drawbacks as all the others. It was like a room with a low ceiling and no windows, but you wouldn’t know that unless you left and saw how big other rooms could be. Most people who never left had ended up married young to their high school sweetheart and had had at least two kids before I had even graduated from college, which wasn’t a bad thing, but it hadn’t been something I wanted for myself. Not then, anyway.

Leaving didn’t make me love Meadowlark less—it had actually had the opposite effect—but it did make me understand why people like Dusty had stayed away for a long time, why the others had left and stayed gone.

But not me, I wanted a life right here in Meadowlark. But now the home I had loved so much was feeling less familiar than ever. I didn’t regret any of the decisions I had made in my life so far, but I couldn’t help but worry that I’d missed my shot at something bigger because I had always been so content with what I had. Those pieces that I always thought would eventually fall into place when I was ready—a partner of my own to share my life with, the family we’d build—were no longer waiting for me on the horizon.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” I said quietly. I kept my eyes on a drop of condensation that was making its way down the side of my glass.

Dusty picked up his drink and took a swallow. “But just because you thought you’d be ‘settled’ by now—whatever thatmeans—doesn’t mean you’re behind. Maybe everyone else is just ahead.” I nodded, but I couldn’t form a reply.

He bumped my shoulder with his. “Hey. This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” he asked.

I put down my patty melt after a couple of bites. “If we’re both not settled by the time we’re forty, do you wanna get married?”

Dusty laughed loud enough that we got several looks from other diner patrons. Including Gus and Nicole.

“Way to let a girl down easy,” I murmured. He was laughing, but I was mostly serious.

“I love you to death, but I’m not your type, and you’re not mine,” Dusty said, still chuckling. I knew he was right. It’d be like being married to my brother. Even in small-town USA, that probably wouldn’t fly.

“Of course,” I said. “I forgot that your type is tall, dark, and”—I counted off each thing on my fingers—“engaged to another man.”

Dusty’s eyes fell, but he played it off—always unruffled—by putting a hand over his heart as he said, “You wound me,” but I still detected a hint of real pain in his voice.

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