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“Happy early birthday. I wish we could come to your competitions, but we’ll watch it on the computer. Allen’s coming over to see if he can play it on the television, so you don’t look so small on the phone.”
My birthday isn’t for months, and Allen is my uncle on my dad’s side. He owns a hunting business.
“You didn’t need to get me anything.” She usually orders something from JCPenney, or we go to Ashland to shop at Kohls.
“Open it,” Dane says, scooting his chair to mine.
I fling the floral paper onto the floor and peek in the bag. Looking up, I see the pride in their faces. As I pull out the black, long boots, tears slide around inside my lids. “This Is too much.”
My first thought is, did Dane help pay for these? These cost as much as Paps makes in two weeks. They’ve always given up so much for me. I’m the reason they don’t have a new couch or lamp or one of those fancy zero turn lawn mowers. Sensing I’m two seconds away from sobbing, Dane rubs my back. It’s day two of taking medicine, which means my body is still adjusting. I’m less depressed today, but I believe that has more to do with Dane and me having sex than it does about my ADHD.
“We’re proud of you, Lil Bit. You’ll never know how much and while we can’t spend the money traveling to see you compete, we want you to know how happy we are that you’ve gone so far.”
Paps agrees, “We sure are. I tell all the guys at work how you and that horse are practically glued together.”
I lunge into hug her, and the chair topples over, taking us both to the white linoleum floor, with an ivy border. Paps and Dane come to our rescue, but Granny and I are on our backs, cackling. “I love you, Granny.”
She cackles, “I just want you to be happy with your life and enjoy every minute of college and these days of competing. I want you to find someone who makes you as happy as your Paps makes me. Always has.”
Paps tugs her off the floor and into his arms and kisses her nose. “Love you, Winnie.”
“Love you, George.”
Dane and I “ahh” in unison. “Thank you for the boots; they're beautiful.” And I’m not lying. The leather is as smooth and soft as butter on the outside. I run my hand up and down the shaft, then I sit down to slip them on and then prance around the trailer like an equestrian princess. The entire time, Dane’s gaze won’t let me go as he wraps me in his appreciation.
We sit on the back porch that looks out to the woods, having a Ho-Ho cake and drinking a glass of milk in the early fall. The leaves are turning to lighter shades of greens and yellows, but in a few weeks, the trees will have turned to reds and oranges. It’s one thing I miss about living here—so beautiful and undisturbed.
We kiss them goodbye and promise to call.
Dane opens my door, and I scoot inside the SUV. We’ve had an incredible weekend and if I had to rank my experiences, it would be:
1) Making love with Dane last night
2) Having sex with Dane this morning
3) Sitting on those plastic strap lawn chairs snapping beans with Dane.
4) My grandparents' gift.
The gift is great, but material things shouldn’t come in front of our relationships. And as much I don’t want to talk about what’s next for Dane and me, I know we have to.
We chat about my gift, Granny’s greased spinach and mashed potatoes, and then Dane’s dad calls, and they talk for a few minutes about his schoolwork and basketball. Sometimes I wonder if they ever talk about anything else.
When he hangs up, I blurt out, “Let’s make a list of pros and cons.”
“A list? Our relationship shouldn’t be defined by a list,” he argues.
Chapter Twenty-Four
DANE
Why is she so damn irresistible? When she was stroking her boots, I relived the way she touched me this weekend. I shoot her a sideways glance, squeezing her thigh, and she jerks in response. “Ouch. I’m putting the squeezing of my sweetmeat in the con column.”
Sweetmeat is what we call it when you squeeze right above your knee. It tickles and hurts at the same time. “Come on, baby. When I ate your sweetmeat, you couldn’t get enough.” A laugh rumbles from the depths of my chest.
“Stop. You’re…”
“Making you blush. Yep, my two new favorite things about you, Lettie. When you blush or get flushed.” I rub her thigh, back and forth, touching her like this feels as natural as being in the mountains.
