Page 28 of Alive and Wells

“It was all for me,” she says. “But I’m willing to share.”

I can’t help but smile as she enthusiastically peels the plastic wrap, unveiling the feast on my coffee table. I hand her a cold beer, sitting down as far away as my three-seater couch will allow. Cecily in my house already feels like a tremendous step. I’m not pushing it by getting into her personal space.

“Do I have to worry about the cops knocking on my door looking for the cake thief?” I ask.

“Legally speaking, I’m not sure it’s stealing when I helped make the food, right? Especially the cake—it’s an entirely separate mini cake.”

“So you’re a lowly ingredient thief, then? I think that kind of crime might earn you a spot in Martha Stewart’s prison cell.”

Her laughter engulfs the air like fireworks. “Why aren’t you this funny all the time?”

“Somebody has to be the resident asshole, I guess.”

“Is that why you weren’t invited to family dinner?” She tucks her feet under her on the far end of the couch, looking at me as if the question she just asked isn’t such a doozy.

“I was invited, actually. But I didn’t want to go.”

She blinks up at me. Her look of genuine interest—and a tinge of concern—has me feeling the urge to tell her way too much information about my life. Lay it all out like a picnic. “I didn’t want to go because my dad’s there, and I don’t speak to him.”

“Ah—explains why things were tense at the house today. I figured it wasn’t an average family dinner. Does he visit often?”

I scrape my palm against my stubbled jaw as I decide how much to tell her. “He only comes here for her birthday and the anniversary of when she died. But… he left pretty quickly after she died and I haven’t exactly forgiven him for it. I know that probably sounds dumb because it was a long time ago.”

My tongue presses against the inside of my cheek, preparing to hear something which diminishes the situation. I’m expecting her to defend him, as if he had no choice but to leave. It’s what Denny, Jackson, Kate, and even Beryl do.He’s grieving, too. He’s trying to find a way to show he still cares. You were an adult, so what’s the big deal he left when he did?

“Beryl and Kate mentioned it was your mom’s birthday. I’m sorry, Austin. That’s hard.” She’s looking at me the way she always does—like she sees me. And that scares the shit out of me.

“Yeah, not made any easier by having to deal with my dad. So I just choose not to.”

“Well, it’s pretty fucking selfish of him to only come around on those days, don’t you think? Has he ever asked if you guys want him around?” She clamps a hand to her mouth, quieting her voice as it trickles from between her fingers. “Sorry, that was rude. I shouldn’t be talking shit about your dad.”

I bite back a smile. “Don’t be sorry. You’re the first person who hasn’t immediately defended him.”

“I’m not in the habit of defending men anymore.”

I assume her comment has something to do with whatever her ex did. The guy’s clearly an idiot because he let her run off.Yup, he was a real idiot, but I’m a bigger one.I’ve wasted so much time trying to dislike Cecily—for what?

“You defended me to Kate when we were branding,” I remind her. In fact, she’s defended me at least twice; Denny told me she stood up for me when the guys were bitching about work. They’re employees of the ranch, which means sometimes they have to miss a rodeo to help hay before bad weather. They can hate me all they want for it. That’s why I’m the boss.

“Okay, I stand corrected. I’m not defendingassholesanymore.”

My body warms from the inside out, like I’m chugging Fireball on a cold night in the middle of calving season. I can practically feel my face glowing when I look over at Cecily.

“So,”—she takes a swig—“how do you usually spend your mom’s birthday, if not at the big house with everybody?”

“Alone.”

“Oh.” Her face falls. “If you want me to go, I can. You can even keep the food.”

“No.” I exhale. If I want this girl, I need to stop being a closed-off dick.“Usually I drink beer and watchHappy Daysbecause it was her favourite show.”

“Obviously, I never met your mom, but I bet she’d like that. When I die, I hope somebody sits around every year and watches reruns of my favourite shows to commemorate my life. If not, I’m coming back here to haunt every friend I’ve ever had. Better watch it, Aus, or I might be in here flickering your lights to piss you off.”

My heart has no business hitting a dead stop like it does. Being referred to as a friend should ease my worries about heartbreak if she leaves.Whenshe leaves. It should close the door once and for all—confirming she has no interest in pursuing anything further. I should take my slot in the friend zone, and be thrilled to be there. But, for some ungodly reason, it has the opposite effect. It fills my chest with butterflies. With hope. If I was able to move from asshole boss to friend, I can become more.

Cecily seems oblivious to my inner panic as she giggles about something Potsie said on the TV. I hate to admit it, but I’m genuinely glad I’m not alone tonight.

“Now that you know too much about my family shit, tell me about yours,” I say.

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