Crew Harrington was a cowboy. It was obvious in his tanned face, dusty boots, Wranglers, and ball cap. And how expertly he handled his horse that was relaxed and confident like his owner.
Tony wasn’t sure about the “painted horse” although he kept mentioning the animal and Mrs. Jenn on our drive back until he fell asleep halfway through. And that damn loud donkey. I still didn’t know why Tony had loved the critter so much. I saw a lot of donkey videos in our imminent future.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about everything yet, but I hoped it would work out. The place was great, Jenn seemed lovely, and Crew felt, so far, like the decent sort. I had a feeling he would be a good boss to work under.
The truth was, though, that if I got the job, it would change our lives again. I’d have to pack everything up once more and moveus somewhere in the town nearest to Blue Creek Ranch. I’d have to find a daycare for Tony, and hope that the schedules worked well enough.
Instead of dwelling on that yet, because I felt mentally safer to not hopetoomuch or plan ahead just in case, I concentrated on getting us home.
We had early dinner while watching videos of all sorts of donkeys on YouTube. Then Tony wanted a bath—our bathroom didn’t have a real tub, but I’d splurged and bought us one of those shorter inflatable ones on clearance—and I left him to splash around with his bath toys while I tidied up the small space we called home.
Well, Tony called it home. I called it that only around him. When I thought of the studio, I used the word apartment. I wasn’t meant for one.
“You about ready, bud?” I called out.
“Not yet, Daddy!”
“Okay.” I wandered into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid, then zoned out a little. It was a thing we did. Tony called it “quiet time.”
It was a blessing to have a kid who needed and understood silence.
I wanted to think about living somewhere out of this place, but my mind immediately sent me back home. To the farm I’d called home for all my life. I missed everything about it. I knew that land like the back of my hand, and I’d wanted my children to inherit it one day.
But now, that would never happen. I realized I’d sighed when Tony’s splashing ceased.
“What time is it, Daddy?” he asked in a knowing tone.
“It’s past six.”
“Uh-huh.”
I smiled. We had an agreement that we shouldn’t think of bad thoughts after six PM so bedtime would be easier. Also, my son might’ve been a well-intentioned little smartass without meaning to. I appreciated it.
After helping him wash his hair and making a show of toweling him off to make sure he went to bed dry, I let him pick a book and then we read together for a while.
Clutching Mr. Raven, he curled up in his little bed and was asleep in no time at all. I sighed, kissed his forehead, and made sure the room divider was in its correct spot. At first I’d done my best to use a makeshift curtain to block some light out so I could still live a little after he went to bed, but Mama had ordered us a really nice divider that looked nicer and was easy to fold out of the way during the day.
Every panel on Tony’s side was now covered with drawings and pictures of different animals and people, and I was pretty sure there’d be donkeys soon, too.
I took a shower, had a snack, and tried to relax enough to enjoy one of my comfort older cop shows. Somehow I succeeded, because I had barely enough time to set the iPad on the coffee table before I conked out, earlier than I thought I would.
It seemed like both of us fell asleep early so that meant we woke up that way, too. I stirred when I heard the toilet flush. Then the tap ran, and I was stretching myself to kickstart my body when small feet padded around the couch.
“Good morning, Daddy.”
“Mornin’, kiddo. Want cuddles?” I asked, lifting the blanket.
“Yeah.” He climbed in and tucked himself against my chest, then let out a long, drawn-out happy sigh.
It was barely five thirty, so we stayed that way for an hour more before we got hungry.
Having been the sole parent since Payton was four months old meant that we were incredibly close. My mom had done a lot with Tony when we still had the farm, but with Vera out of the picture and her parents not interested in a grandchild, we’d been a small family unit of four with Tony and my folks.
Now that it was just the two of us, I hadn’t hurried with putting him into preschool yet. We did a lot of reading, writing, and math exercises for fun, and just talked about everything around us. I felt like he was well prepared for the day to come when I’d work full time again.
He was inquisitive, polite, and friendly. I couldn’t have asked for more, really. I just hoped we weren’t getting too codependent. That was one of the reasons I really needed a job. We needed some time apart, too.
I made us breakfast and then we ate at the kitchen table I’d squished against the wall next to the kitchenette.
