Page 4 of More Than an Ex-Girlfriend

During breakfast,while everyone is chatting around the table, I tap out a quick message to Regretful-Raccoon.

Crocheting-Cowboy: The best thing about my life now is my found family. The people who live near me are wonderful and caring. It’s not something I expected.

That’s one good thing about my life now.

When thinking about the life you want, what’s one thing on the list?

As always, I’m not expecting identifying information.

I’m not just feeding her lines that sound good. My found family is the best thing about my life now. I don’t feel the need to be anyone other than myself, and it’s clear that people on the ranch care about me. Since I grew up with only my grandmother, a big family feels like a treat.

As I go through my day, I check my phone more often than normal.

Regretful-Raccoon doesn’t answer until after lunch.

Regretful-Raccoon: I see you decided to start with an easy question. LOL. I’ve been thinking about how to answer all morning while at work. And having a found family sounds amazing. In an ideal world, I’d have one of those too. But I’m not sure how to step in that direction. I guess talking to people is a good start. I’m chatting with you. Does that count?

I smile because she ended with a question again. It’s like a subtle plea for me to keep talking to her, which I’m a hundred percent on board with. But fences need mending and cows need to be fed. Later, I’ll send her a message when I’m not running between tasks.

* * *

All afternoon,while doing chores, I thought about how to respond to Regretful-Raccoon.

Now I’m headed back home, and I realize I’ve gone nearly a full day without thinking about Lettie. This is progress. And maybe that’s what I’ll tell my chat buddy when I message her.

As I pull up to my cabin, Dag is walking out of his. He goes out almost every weekend, and tonight seems to be no exception. But he is dealing with a situation with his best friend, so I am a bit surprised because he hasn’t exactly been himself.

I climb out of my truck and wave at him. “You going out?”

“Yeah. Didn’t line up a date or anything, but figured doing something was better than staying here. Want to go?”

He’s invited me out before, and I’ve never said yes, but today, I’m feeling a bit social.

While I’m deciding, he says. “I don’t mind waiting for a bit while you change.”

It sounds like he might want the company.

“You sure?” I tip my hat back. “I can be quick.”

This is a first for me. I normally turn down these invites. No one can rib me about not asking ladies to dance if I don’t go out. And I don’t spend the evening comparing every woman I see to Lettie. But tonight, I’m making a different choice.

One more step down the moving-on road.

“Just knock when you’re ready.” He steps inside his cabin. Then hollers, “If you’re just going to make sure I don’t bother Goldie, I have news for you. I don’t even know where she is.”

Poor guy is really floundering after his best friend turned down his proposal, but I’m hoping he doesn’t try to drown out his frustration with stuff that doesn’t matter. After losing Lettie, I spent so much time wondering what I could have done differently. And I have regrets about things I should have said or tried.

I can’t change the past, but maybe I can help my friend avoid my mistakes.

But I’m not sure he’s ready to hear any of that yet, so I just grin, then hurry in to get ready.

Thirty minutes later, we’re walking into the new country bar that’s opened in town. Patrons are a wide range of ages. Many are in well-worn boots and jeans. Others are in flipflops and skinny jeans. It’ll make for interesting people watching.

In the middle of talking about his best friend Goldie, Dag asks, “Why did your girlfriend break up with you? What makes it so hard to move on?”

Tonight would be so much easier without him bringing up my ex. But I’m honest with him. And honest with myself. “It’s hard to move on because I loved her. Still do, but I’m accepting that it’s over. And honestly, I don’t know why she ended things. I know what she said—it wasn’t working—but she was lying. And not getting the truth hurts. Maybe I took her for granted. I’ve spent five years thinking about it, and nothing has changed.”

I don’t want this conversation to continue, and I’m hoping Dag will ask someone to dance and leave me alone with my beer so that I can send off a message to Regretful-Raccoon.

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