"This yours?" he asks Bo.
"Falon's," Bo says. "She did that."
Dad looks at me.
He is quiet for a second. Then he looks at Bo and says, "She's been running both properties since my surgery. Schedules, books, supplier accounts. She should be out with the girls and working toward making a living.” Bo cocks his head to the side, then looks at me, puzzled.
It’s always been like this. Dad doesn’t see me as a real rancher. I am his daughter, but that is where it ends. I don’t think he thinks I can do it.
"Oh, I don’t know," Bo says. "I've seen the binders. She seems to be doing a good job."
I am going to say something, but then Bo adds, "Why don’t you come and see what she’s done. The feed system between the two properties is all hers, and because she’s been keeping things going on her end, Rusty and Dane can get the fence line, the calves, and the heavy lifting done." Dad looks skeptical, and I shake my head. He still has no clue what I’ve done. I am still nine and in pigtails, wandering around the ranch pretending to be the boss, only now I am the boss and kicking butt as one too.
I wrinkle my nose, and Bo sees me. I drop my head and walk back to the kitchen to put the food away. I’m not the girl boss I’d seen some of the girls become. I don’t like the phrase ‘I am woman, hear me roar.’ I am more of the hard-working and traditional kind of girl. I like it when the men open my doors; it tells me how much they respect me. I like it when they work just as hard as I do, and at the end of a long day, dinner and a movie on the couch is my cup of tea. But Dad is different. He doesn’t see that in me. I don’t know what he sees, but it isn’t me.
Bo heads for the back door, and Dad follows.
"We'll be right back," Bo says over his shoulder as they walk out the back.
Mom refills her coffee and sits at the bar watching me busy myself putting dinner away and packing a Tupperware for Mom and Dad tomorrow. I’d made sure there was enough for eight people, even though it was just the four of us, so we'd have leftovers.
"So," she says. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Does he not want to see what I’ve done?”
“Oh, honey, he sees it,” she defends him.
“I don’t think so, Mom.” I put the extras in the fridge,then start on the dishes. “I’d done so much in this house, I mean, look at the floors,” I gesture, and she looks down. “I did that. I put in new floors throughout the house before Bo even got here. I did the trim and painted. I did most of this alone, then Bo gets here and all of a sudden, it looks great.” I start loading the dishwasher. “I mean, I installed the appliances because I didn’t want to pay the two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar installation fee.”
Mom looks around. And her eyes grow slightly wider.
“When Dad broke his leg, I called in Rusty and Dane, and we sat right there at the bar and talked about what was working and what wasn’t. I worked with them so that they could have time off when they needed it. I’ve been feeding alone for months and still have time to go out with the girls and get what I need done, without feeling like I’m burning the candle at both ends. Bo has been an immense help, but why can’t he see me for who I am? Why is it that I’m Tyler's little sister, or Rick and Melodie’s girl? Why can’t everyone treat me like Falon?” I close the dishwasher and start it. By this time, Mom has a sad, knowing look on her face.
“I didn’t realize we did that, honey,” she says, twisting her ring around her finger. “I thought we were protecting you. I didn’t realize we were belittling what you were doing. I’m sorry, honey. I just thought that if you had a man who helped you, then you could be you.”
“But I am me, and I am doing what I want. What twenty-three-year-old can say they own a working ranch free and clear, and are renovating the house of their dreams? I make enough from ranching to support me and the renovation, and if you and Dad looked at the business account, you would see I’ve helped you guys, too. Enough that if you wanted, you and Dad could take that cruise you’ve beentalking about for the last five years.” I pat her hand across the counter.
“Wow. I was trying to guard a little girl, and here you are all grown up and doing it all on your own.”
I nod, and she wipes at her eyes as tears start to fall.
“Now that we’d done the heavy, how about you tell me about the dinner you and Bo had the other night. Sitting at the table by the window at Will’s. Were you two on a date?” She smiles all big and totally knowing.
“As if you didn’t know. The pie from Mrs. Winslow, the quilt from Janet, and the errands that led us to Will’s. Seems like you and half the town are playing cupid.”
“Who, me?” She places a hand to her chest.
"Yes, you!"
"I don't do the whole matchmaking thing." She starts turning her ring around her finger again. "I'm just sitting here." She takes a sip of coffee. "Watching my daughter try not to smile every time that man says her name."
I look at the desert I made. Oreo ice cream cake.
"How are you really?" she asks. “You and Bo?”
I look up, and she isn't smiling anymore. She is just my mom, asking.
"Good," I say. "Really good." I pause. "And scared."
