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“You don’t reach for anything you want, you don’t hold onto it tight. Take your spraying business, for example. That was, like, a dream come true for you, wasn’t it?”
He nodded, still not sure where she was going with this line of conversation.
She nodded as well. “Hell, yes it was. I remember how excited you were the day you began doing it. But you gave it up the moment your parents needed you.”
He opened his mouth to argue, though he wasn’t sure what he could argue. She was only stating a fact so far. So why did she sound so negative about it, as if he’d done something wrong.
“That’s how you always work. Doesn’t matter how bad you want something; you don’t dive straight toward it. You don’t fight for it. You glance around first, make sure it wouldn’t hurt anyone else or get in the way of their dreams, then you cautiously stretch out your hand as if ready to snap it back the moment someone makes a fuss.”
Feeling more and more degraded by her words, he frowned. “So what? What’s wrong with worrying about other people’s feelings?”
B.J. rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with it, you moron. I’m just saying, you’re too goddamn nice for your own good. I bet you a hundred bucks that’s what’s keeping you from this mystery lady of yours. You refuse to tell her how you feel and what you want from her because you’re worried about how it’ll affect her, possibly mess up the life she’s already set for herself.”
He glanced down at the tub in his hand and idly stirred the now-soft ice cream around his spoon. “It would affect her life in a big way to be with me,” he admitted. “She’d have to give up so much, everything she’s worked so hard to get. She’s successful and settled where she is, and I can’t leave my parents in the lurch to go up there and be with her. Besides, a big city would suck the life out of me within the month.”
B.J. set her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I still think you should be selfish for once in your life and just tell her what you want. Fight for her, goddamn it. Let her feel like she matters. Who knows, maybe she wouldn’t mind altering her fancy city schedule so much to be with you. Maybe…hell, maybe y’all could make it work. But you’ll never know if you don’t say anything.”
Cooper closed his eyes, not daring to hope she might be right.
“Besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen? She turns you down and you end up exactly where you are right now, eating ice cream with me at two in the morning while still mooning over her.”
He studied her before conceding, “You have a point.”
She grinned. “I know. I’m damn brilliant.”
“I’m calling her,” he announced, his heart rate jerking out of control. Dear God, he was really going to do it. He tugged his phone from his pocket. Then paused. “Wait. What time is it? She’s got to be asleep by now.” Plus he was rip-roaring, slurring drunk.
“Who cares?” B.J. grabbed his wrist to keep him from re-pocketing his phone. “Trust me, Gerhardt. If she loves you back, no woman is going to complain about the hour if a man calls her to proclaim his undying love. Call her.”
He grinned, feeling free and lifted of all his burdens. “Okay.”
But before he could set his thumb to the first number, his phone rang. With a frown, he watched the screen, waiting for the caller information to pop up. “I wonder who…” He glanced at B.J. with a cringe. “My mom,” he explained and immediately answered. “Hey, Mama.” He swallowed nervously, trying to sound as sober as possible. “Sorry I haven’t made it home yet but—”
She cut him off, which wasn’t a habit in Loren Gerhardt’s repertoire.
He listened to her, his ears buzzing as her words filled him, words he’d never heard his mother say before. He blinked rapidly and tried to swallow, but the effort was nearly impossible. After clearing his throat, he rasped. “I’ll be right there.”
After closing the phone, he stared at it, waiting to wake up from this nightmare that must’ve taken hold of him. But then he glanced at the ice cream in his other hand, and the condensation on the side dripped down his thumb in a cold, wet stroke like an icy teardrop, confirming he was awake.
Finally, he focused on B.J. who frowned at him in confusion.
“I gotta go,” he managed to say. “My dad just died.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
After B.J. drove Cooper home, she stuck around the rest of the night, which he appreciated. She wasn’t the drippy-eyed sort to bawl over the death of a neighbor. She was clinical, but supportive, making him sit with his mother while she brewed Loren hot tea and him a black cup of coffee to sober up. Then she called over his mother’s closest friends. By the time she left them, she’d already contacted Tommy Creek’s funeral home and set up a meeting between them and Cooper’s family.
Though he lay down at about four that morning and rose at seven, sleep escaped him. He simply stared at the dark ceiling and watched the light slowly filter in through his window as the day dawned.
It didn’t matter how he tried to repeat the facts through his head; they didn’t seem real. His father was gone. Forever. He was halfway to becoming an orphan. His mother was a widow. He’d never see Thaddeus Gerhardt alive again, never talk to him, never ask him a question about life. Never visit him at the—
He shook his head, denying, and sat up, sliding his legs over the side of the bed before standing. It simply couldn’t be true. He refused to mourn because mourning would mean he was admitting it was true.
So he hobbled to the bathroom and took a shower, all the while wondering how many times his father had walked inside this very room and stood under this very same faucet head. When he stepped out, he wrapped his waist with a towel and swiped his hand over the foggy mirror, almost expecting to see Thad’s image staring back. Instead, a hung over version of himself filled the glass, his eyes bloodshot and nose red. His head throbbed with a vengeance, but he didn’t open the cabinet door to hunt up any aspirin. In fact, he welcomed the pain.
Once he dried off and put on some clothes, he shuffled down the stairs, remembering when his dad used to scold him when Coop was in a hurry and took more than two steps at a time. Cooper made sure to plant his boots on each level, even the two that creaked.
When he found his mom awake and stirring around the kitchen, starting breakfast, he shook his head. “Mama, you don’t have to worry about breakfast.”
