Page 77 of The Crush
“Danny, are you listening to me?”
My dad’s gruff voice grabs me, halting me as I head for the back door to the kitchen. “Yes.”
“What did I say?”
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing springs to mind.God, I’m so fucking tired.
“Thought so.” My dad frowns, looking away and sighing before he repeats himself. “I asked you about tomorrow.”
“What about it?”
“About…” He gives me an exasperated look. “Mijo, you know, you don’t have to go up to the hill tomorrow if you don’t want to. If it’s too much right now, it’s okay.”
The heel of my work boot finds a pebble on the concrete patio, catching it and dragging it back and forth across the ground.Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
“I’ll be fine.”
My dad’s jaw works from side to side, followed by a small shake of his head that’s nearly imperceptible. “Danny,” he says softly, “you and I both know you haven’t been out there since you came home. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”
It’s almost worse sometimes how understanding he is, how willing he is to give me so much undeserved grace. Sometimes I wish he would just yell at me.
Scrape. Scrape.
Maybe if he did, it would help wake me up.
“I’m good, Pop,” I tell him. “Like you said, I’m overdue for a visit. Been meaning to go. Last night, I…” I almost tell him right then. About the kids by the barns. About the dream I had after. About how I could’ve sworn she’d been there in the couple hours I’d managed to shut my eyes before dawn. But I don’t.
Scrape. Scrape.
“I better head inside,” I tell him instead, already turning away. “Need to get ready and see if Isabel wants help with anything.”
To my relief, he lets me walk away without stopping me. And I wonder how many more times he will.
After all, everyone—even Tadeo Ríos—has a breaking point.
Sixty-Three
Isabel
My mom is early.Forty-five minutesearly. Apparently she had been serious when she said she would be over to help.
Her sharp knock echoes through the house right as Daniel steps in through the back door, and we both turn to look at the kitchen clock in unison before eyeing each other’s equally disheveled states. Neither of us anywhere near the usual dress code for a holiday meal.
“You think if we make a run for it she’ll notice?” Daniel asks, coming closer and placing a reassuring hand on my back as he stands next to me. “We could go out the window?”
“No,” I tell him as I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel and stare in the direction of the front door. “She would be waiting there to ask me if I remembered to add four bay leaves instead of three to the mole.”
“Did you?”
“I can’t remember anymore.” I turn my head to look at him, reaching up to rub a smudge of dirt from his cheek and watching his expression carefully as I ask, “You okay?”
His eyes fall to the floor briefly as he brushes his hands over his shirt. “Pretty easy morning. Just fed and checked on the herd.”
“That’s good.” I hesitate. “Are you sure you’re up to this? I could—”
Rap. Rap. Rap.
Daniel raises his eyebrows at me. “You’d really tell your mamá that she has to go home?”
