I had stayed under the bridge with Annabeth and watched the sunset again last night. This seems to be becoming a daily ritual for us, and I can’t say that I don’t mind it. We laid beneath the trees, sharing stories about our pasts. She told me all about her time with the orchestra, I told her more about my late wife. Annabeth had a lot of questions, mostly about who Samantha was. I’ll be honest, it felt nice to talk about her again, that part of my life is something I’ve hidden from for years. Annabeth’s gone out for dinner with the girls and although she’s sent me several completely adorable texts, the last almost twenty-four hours of not seeing her feel like total agony.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and my eyes light up as I see my daughters’ name flashes across the screen. “Bumble. Hey, princess.”
“Hey Daddy, losing your mind yet?” Her laugh radiates through the speaker, and I can picture the cheeky grin that’s no-doubt plastered across her face.
“Your Uncle forced me to go out for drinks, and I finally fixed the step in the barn.”
“You wentout!”she gasps. I long to tell her about the last few weeks but decide it’s a conversation best had in person. I still have no idea what she’s going to think about all of this, but I can’t dwell on that tonight. No, tonight I’m going to talk to my daughter about her camp and think of all the million ways I want to cuddle up with her, eat popcorn, and watch her favourite movie –Spirit, of course.
“Don’t mock your old man. How’s camp?”
“It’s amazing. We went on a hike today, and then we made crafts by the lake. It’s so pretty in Wattle Ridge, you can see thewholetown from the lookout. I love it here Daddy. Can we move?”
“Billie-Mae Northlane, we are bloody well not moving.” I chuckle, pressing the button on the kettle.
“Lame! It’s too late for coffee, you’ll be up all night,” she scolds.
“I’ll be up all night anyway, I have to do paperwork.”
“O-M-G, Dad, could you be any moreboring?” Her teasing me like this just makes me miss her that much more.
I ease myself onto the stool, listening as Billie tells me all about her camp activities, the general drama that comes with being an eight-year-old girl, and how excited she is to come home. She tells me how she’s missing me and Colt. She prattles on for what feels like half an hour about missing Lenny, reminding me every few breaths how he likes to eat his chaff, like I didn’t teachherhow to feed him. I have to cut her some slack, she’s barely gone a day without seeing that bloody pony since we got him, so almost two-weeks probably feels like a lifetime when you’re eight. I hear a teacher enter her room, telling her to come and get ready for dinner. Billie tells me she loves me as the line goes dead.
My head lowers to my palm, the rough skin pressing against mybeard.
“I miss you, you know. We all do,” I speak softly into the void. I know Sam’s out there somewhere. Watching, listening, keeping an eye on us. I wonder who she could have become if she hadn’t decided to leave. Would she have stayed here with us? Would she always have felt regret over it? I will never have the answers to those questions, but part of me likes to think that maybe, just maybe, she did what she thought was right.
I wipe a tear from my eye, caught up in the past as I rise from the chair and carry myself to bed, forgoing the coffee I intended on having, and deciding the paperwork can wait. Climbing into bed, my head hits the pillow, and it feels like I’m lying on top of a cloud. I plug my phone in, and am about to roll over, when it buzzes in my hand.
Annabeth: Sweet dreams, cowboy. xo
Me: Goodnight, Firefly. x
Eighteen
Annabeth
It’s the night of the rodeo. Two days have passed since I’ve seen Dallas, and Billie gets home from camp tomorrow. I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen. After the other day by the river with Dallas, I decided maybe it was best to give him some space.
Although, as I sit here and polish my boots for tonight to the sound of Ella, Hannah, and River popping bottles of wine in the kitchen, I’m not so sure…
I stop what I’m doing and reach for my phone, immediately typing Dallas’s name and waiting for the dial tone.
“Firefly,” comes his gravelly voice through the speaker. God how I havemissedthat voice.
“Hey, how are you doing?”
“Better now. I’ve missed you. I wanted to call but I didn’t know how you were feeling about everything.”
My jaw drops as I say, “Oh thank god. I wanted to callyou,but I thought you might need some space.
“Space!” he all-but shouts. “The last fucking thing I want from you, Firefly, isspace.”His deep, melodic laugh fills my speaker, and my heart.
“Don’t make me feel stupid,” I protest, despite feeling utter reliefthat he’s also been thinking about me.
The last time we saw each other took a toll on both of us emotionally. Dallas opened up more about Sam on our ride back to the farm, and honestly, it made me feel even closer to him to know that he felt comfortable enough to tell me about her. She seemed like an incredibly vibrant person, and hearing about her struggles hit close to home for me with my parents. Dallas shared his vulnerability with me, and I know in my heart that there’s things I need to open up to him about.
I find myself thinking about Billie, she’s such a brilliant and talented little girl. I wonder if she gets it from her mother? Dallas seems to think so. I make a mental note to myself to continue supporting her and her artistic dreams, regardless of what happens between Dallas and me.
