Page 98 of Chasing Love: The Owens
“And how do I get home?”
“Call your husband,” Darla says and walks out the front door.
Bennett steps alongside me. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not. Go ahead.”
“Thanks.” He goes to his office, drops his bags and comes back out with his cowboy hat, and heads out the front door.
“He’s about to get a talkin’ to,” Lottie says, laughing. “Hopefully, she comes up with something better than being a weed.”
The other two women laugh as if there’s more to what Lottie said.
I try to concentrate on the bouquets, unsure how Darla thinks she can get Bennett to forgive me. Then again, I know better than to question a mother’s tenacity when it comes to her child.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Bennett
My mom sits in the driver’s seat of the UTV and pats the seat next to her. “Get in.”
I stare at the seat and cross my arms. “Why? Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
“Is this the weed talk?” I heard all about how my mom took Lottie to Daisy Hill and gave her a “get out of your own way and see what’s in front of you” talk.
“Does everyone have to make fun of me for that? It was a logical comparison.” She fixes her eyes on me. “Now, get in.”
She’ll never let it go, so I slide into the passenger seat, and she throws it back in reverse before slamming on the gas to go forward.
“Jesus, Mom, you’re gonna kill me before we get to the hill.”
“Relax. Live a little.” She rounds the corner, and I grab the top of the UTV, so I don’t fall out.
She doesn’t calm down until we’re past all the houses and almost to the ranch’s family cemetery on top of a hill of daises where my relatives are buried.
“I wasn’t expecting to have this conversation today, so let’s go. Your dad wants to do date night tonight.”
“By all means, we don’t have to do this. Go on your date.”
“Nonsense, you’ve wasted enough valuable time.”
“I have?”
She opens the gate, not holding it open for me, and trudges up the hill.
Emmett told me about when he was taken here by his dad, and his brothers as well. Clearly, it’s a family tradition you only get the pleasure of experiencing when they think you’re ruining your life.
I follow her and stand by my grandmother’s grave. Aunt Daisy’s has a fresh set of flowers on it, which means someone else has been up here recently.
“Sit,” Mom says.
“I’m not a dog,” I grumble.
She pats the ground next to her. “You’re acting like a stubborn Jack Russell terrier, and if you don’t change your ways, you’re going to ruin everything you could be building.”
I sit on the ground. “So, Lottie’s a weed, and I’m a Jack Russell. You’re stellar at these talks, Mom. You should practice now for whenever Romy’s turn comes around.”
