Page 34 of Forbidden Cowboy
“Yeah, really loud ones where no one cared that I was there. Everyone would drink lots of alcohol, and get all goofy. Sometimes people would fight.”
“Why did she bring you to parties?” I asked.
I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, worried it would scare Anna away from opening up to me. I took a bite of toast to have something to cover my expression.
“She didn’t want me staying with Dad,” she said quietly, “I think she knew I liked Dad better. Dad would order takeout or try and cook andthenorder takeout, and we would watch Disney movies. He also makes really good pillow forts, and I was never late to school if I stayed with him. He also is really good at math, and would call Uncle Beau over to help with English and computer stuff. With Mom, I always fell asleep in really uncomfortable places, and woke up all sore and sad. She also drove a lot after having some of the alcohol. It scared me.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I said quietly to the little girl beside me, and she just shrugged.
“I live with Dad now, so things are a lot better. He also lets me wear dresses all the time so I can feel like a princess, and taught me how to brush my hair so I can grow it super long.”
“It is very long and beautiful,” I commented on the flowing brown locks she had. “And your braid is lovely.”
“Dad taught me how to braid it; he learned it from the internet. If I braid it, it doesn’t get in rats’ nests when I go to see Mom, and she won’t chop it off again.”
At this, a mental image of a younger Anna with a choppy, ugly bob flashed through my mind—the Anna from my dream.
“Your mom cut your hair off?”
“Yeah, really short. I looked like a boy, and I hated it. There’s a picture on the fridge. Dad wanted to get rid of it, but I like it, even if I hate the haircut. That was the day he got full custody of me.”
Now I remembered, and it explained why the short-haired, younger version of her had shown up in my dream. The picture was of her and Wyatt standing in front of a courthouse, and Anna couldn’t have been older than five.
“I’m glad you live with your dad now,” I said.
“I’m glad, too,” she said.
We ate our breakfast mostly in silence after that, occasionally pointing out people that walked by wearing funny shirts, making up little stories for them and why they were at the hospital. It was a good way to pass the time, and between having Anna’s bright personality with me and the sunshine on my face, I did begin to feel myself calm down a little.
Beau stayed stable, and on the second night, I called a taxi to take us home, since I still had no vehicle for myself. When we pulled into the expansive driveway, the first thing I noticed was the great black truck parked in front of the house.
“Dad’s home!” Anna cried, bursting out of the taxi almost before it had stopped moving.
I couldn’t deny that I was also excited to see Wyatt. How would things have changed between us? I wanted more than anything to be with him, but I didn’t know if he wanted that. And what if he didn’t? Could I continue working for him after what had happened between us? Somehow, things had suddenly gotten much more complicated than they had been even six years ago.
I paid the taxi driver, and took Anna’s and my suitcases from him while he stared at the ranch house in awe. I almost forgot what it looked like to other people, because even as a kid, I had always felt so at home on the ranch that the abject display of wealth occasionally escaped me.
“Nice house,” he said. “Must’ve cost you a penny.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “I don’t own it though; I just work here.”
He hummed thoughtfully, and got back in the car, his eyes still looking at the building as he pulled away. I also reminded myself that I worked there while I dragged the suitcases in. Regardless of our relationship, our friendship, our whatever-ship, in the end I would have to make the best decision for myself and for Anna, who I had grown very close to.
“I’m gonna get my swimsuit on!” I heard the girl yell, and then she was sprinting back past me in bare feet to run up the stairs.
I left the suitcases by the staircase, and walked towards the kitchen, which Anna had clearly been in before darting away. I walked in, and there he was. Wyatt.
He was back in his usual attire of a t-shirt and jeans, and looked like he was either ready to work on the ranch or kick back and relax. I figured it was the latter, since a cold beer was next to him where he leaned on the countertop.
“Hey,” I said in what I hoped was a light and happy voice.
“Hey,” Wyatt said. “It’s really good to see you.”
“Yeah, you too. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
I had only sent a couple texts to him in New York, confirming that Beau was alive, and Anna and I were okay.
“That’s alright, you had a lot going on,” Wyatt answered, and I nodded. “So how is he?”