Page 166 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“I had to pick up the T-shirts I ordered yesterday from a vendor. Really nice lady. Did a custom order overnight for our bucket list event.”
“What bucket list event?”
“You have to wait and see.”
Does she purposely forget that I don’t like surprises?
“You were scheduled to work the morning shift and didn’t show up until late afternoon, and now you’re taking off an hour in?”
“I will be right back.”
I don’t believe her.
“Trust me.” She’s backing away. “You’ll thank me later.”
“I highly doubt it.”
And she’s off, skipping to her own beat. I knew she signed up for this event to play and hit the after-parties. Now I’m left handing out slushie samples solo.
Hope is helping Hannah at the saddle photo op. It would be more my thing if it didn’t involve dealing with kids and pretending to enjoy charming the smiles out of them.
No thanks.
Handing out drinks is more my pace. If the damn blenders would stop stalling, seizing up, or doing whatever it is they’ve been doing all day.
I double-check that the off button is really off before dumping in the ice. This thing has a mind of its own, just like my eyes when they scan the Wilde side.
Dean is describing to a guy how they cure the meat. Levi is sharing stories about ranch life. Bronx and Wyatt challenge several passersby to a quick tug-of-war. And Hart isn’t anywhere to be seen. It’s a relief that stirs irritating curiosity.
I rip open a pre-measured bag of frozen mango chunks just as Hope walks over. It’s more of a wobble now, with one hand on her belly and the other supporting her back.
“Whew. Okay, we need a minute.Ineed a minute,” She lowers herself into the lawn chair. “This baby’s sitting right on my bladder.”
Natalie and Celi are giving two teens lasso demonstrations before they take a shot at the lasso toss.
Daisy was gone before breakfast. I didn’t put her on the schedule since she’s barrel riding this week, but she’s a phone call away if we’re desperate.
As I dump in the mango chunks, I shoot Hope a grin over my shoulder. “Is it just the baby or the sweet tea you downed like water?”
“Both.”
We laugh.
It’s a weird in-between hour. The main events have ended for the day, and everyone’s having supper. At eight, we’ll have a burst of people pass our booth as they head to the evening events. Then we’re closing up shop for the night.
“I’m happy you came.” Hope shifts positions, trying to get comfortable.
“Because I whooped Josie on the bull?”
Hope laughs, then tightens her hands around her belly. “Don’t make me pee myself.”
“Get up and go pee.” I pour in the mango juice and squirt lime juice in before placing the lid on top.
She scrunches her face. “I feel like I’m in there every half hour.”
“That’s because you are.” I press the button and nothing happens.
Seriously? Piece of shit, finicky, stupid thing.
