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Chapter 25
It wasdark by the time we made it back. The truck was in the drive, which meant my dad was home. Eric had passed out a few minutes after we got on the road, so I tried to be quiet when I climbed out of the car and closed the door. Waving at Shelby, with my arms full of bags, I walked backwards toward the house, turning at the last minute to jog up the stairs.
The lights were on in the living room, but the TV wasn't. Instead, my father sat at the small formica table, spinning a beer in a pool of its own condensation. He looked up at me but didn't smile. That made my guts clench with worry. His words didn't help much either.
"You ready to talk yet?" he asked.
I knew better than to say no. The question was completely rhetorical. So, with a heavy sigh, I offloaded my things onto the couch and made my way into the kitchen for a drink of my own. Now, I may have been old enough to grab one of the beers from the fridge, but that wouldn't help me much, so I went for a bottle of Dr. Pepper instead. Twisting the top slowly to let the fizz out, I claimed the chair right across from him.
"Ok?" I said. Yeah, this was already tense. "I'm guessing this is about this weekend?"
He nodded slowly. "Yup. Honey, we're going to make some ground rules, ok? You're still living under my roof -"
"I won't be if I can make some money," I reminded him. "Sorta why I'm doing this."
Dad just held up a hand. "Cody, please. I thought a long time about what I wanna say, so lemme say it, then you can scream at me, ok?"
"Ok," I mumbled, because he had a point. I had been yelling at him a lot lately, but he didn't expect me to just roll over, did he?
My dad lifted his beer and splashed a drink back to wet his throat. "Ok," he started again. "So, rules. Now, I know you're an adult, but I'm still your old man. Every weekend, I'm going to be sitting here, worrying about you. Cody, you know how bad I got busted up, right?"
"Well, yeah," I said, "but the PBR has some of the best sports medicine out there."
"And cowboys still die. It don't make me feel too good that most of those boys are twice as big as you, so I worry. Now, I know you're damned good at this. I do, Cody. That has nothing at all to do with me worrying. Look, I lost your momma -"
"From a car accident," I reminded him. "Not even the same."
"Kinda is. I still got a phone call that said I'd never see her again, or your brother. Now, can you imagine how it's gonna feel when I get that call that you're in the hospital? Or, God forbid, dead? So this is me trying."
I nodded, knowing he had a point.
"Ok," he sighed, as if he'd just made it past the first hurdle. "So, if you're going to ride in the PBR, and you're really serious about this - which I'm getting the impression you are - then I'm taking you up there Friday, and I'm going to watch you ride. Already took the day off work for it, too."
I felt my throat close up with some unexpected emotion. "Really?"
He nodded once. "Told them that my girl's going to show up all them boys, and a few of the guys chipped in for fuel. Said they wanted to get your signature on one of those big posters. Cody, we're all real proud of you, ok?"
My stupid eyes felt hot, like they were burning on the inside. Once again, I nodded, this time to let him know I'd heard, because I wasn't convinced my voice would work. This was what I'd been hoping for. All I'd wanted was to make my daddy proud, so I couldn't start crying like a girl now.
"But in exchange for that, I'm going to ask you to make me a promise, ok?" he went on. "See, I did my time on the road, running from rodeo to rodeo, and I know what that life's like. It's intense, and it's exciting. You can chase your fortune and fame, then turn around and lose it the next week. So when is it enough, Cody? When do you win?"
"When I prove I can do it," I said.
My father shook his head. "You already did that. Now, I want you to actually think about this. Is a million dollars enough? Is it a year-end championship? Maybe breaking a record? Cody, what is this goal that you're chasing? Because being the best ain't never gonna happen. Someone's always going to get a bad bull, and someone else is going to get a good one. Someone's going to have a good day and a bad, and that someone's going to be you. So, before you walk out this door, I want you to tell me what exactly it is you're chasing. What line you're trying to cross, so that you know when you've done it, and then maybe you'll come home with your body still in one piece."
"I don't know," I admitted. "I just wanted to show the guys that I could keep up. I mean, you know what I've heard my whole life! They think that because I'm a girl, I can't do it. And I dunno, I just want to prove that Tulsa wasn't a one-off, you know?"
"Ok, so how about we shoot for something in the middle then?" He scrubbed at his mouth. "Let's start with a million dollars, because I think you're good enough to do that in a couple of years. So, when you reach a million dollars in the bank from this, you come back home, sit back down with me, and we'll talk about it, see if you've figured out a better goal, ok?"
Which was more than fair. Never mind that the idea of a million dollars was mind-blowing! And that my dad said it like he didn't think it'd take me too long to do that? In that moment, I realized why it had been so hard to impress him. It was because he'd always had faith that I could do this. He'd never doubted me, and yet here I'd been, doubting him.
"I promise, Daddy," I said, feeling like the worst kid in the world.
He just smiled at me. "Next one's not going to be as easy, Cody. Boys."
"Dad!"
He gave me that look that said I shouldn't interrupt. "Honey, I know all about those boys touring with you. I used to be one. And they're going to say all the sweetest things, and make you feel real special, ok? But on the road, things are so intense, and that means they burn brighter, but also burn out faster. I just don't want you getting married in some drive-through church and coming home because there's a baby on the way. If any of those boys is really worthy of my little girl, then he'll respect that this means something to you. Ok?"
I nodded again, immediately thinking of Ty. "I'm not riding bulls to meet a man, Dad."
"No, you're not, but that don't mean it won't happen. And you'd better make sure that those boys don't give you something that one of their buckle bunnies gave them. Just be careful, Cody. I know you think you're all grown up, but to me you're still my little girl, and you can be sure that if any of those bull riders breaks your heart, I'll show him my whole gun collection, ok?"
That made me giggle. "Ok. And you'll get to meet some of them tomorrow, you know."
"I will?"
I nodded at him. "Gerardo's stacking party. I told my mentor about it, and he's inviting a few of the guys who didn't go home this week. So, I know that J.D. Adkins, Ty McBride, and Renato Vieria will all be there. J.D. thought he could probably get the bullfighters, too."
"You be nice to those boys," he told me. "Hell, point 'em out to me, and I'll make sure that each of them has a beer all night long, because those bullfighters are the ones who'll keep you in one piece."
"Yeah," I agreed. "They did a pretty good job in Tulsa, and don't even seem to care that I'm a girl. I mean, except for Tanner grabbing my boob."
"What?!"
"My waist is a bit shorter than the guys, Dad. He didn't mean to, and I think he was pretty embarrassed when he realized that my vest wasn't just lumpy. Same guy who kept that bull from stepping on me when my spur got hung, though. The only one of them I've really talked to, and just when he passed back my rope or helped me out."
My dad shook his head and sighed. I knew he understood, though. "So, which one of these guys has decided he's your mentor?"
"J.D.," I said meekly.
And Dad groaned. "You had to go and pick the worst of the bunch? Jesus, Cody! Even I know that boy's trouble."
"I didn't pick him, Dad. It's more true to say that he picked me. I mean, J.D. decided that he wasn't going to let the other guys give me crap, and well, no one really wants to mess with him. And, um... He says he found me a sponsor."
That had his complete attention. "Who?"
"Fierce Denim," I said. "He's the one who got me the pink helmet, too. So I'd keep my face intact, he said. He's..." I canted my head. "J.D. is weird, but he seems like he's on my side."
"Until he isn't," Dad reminded me. "How do you think he'll take it when you place better than him?"
"I actually think he'll just brag that he taught me everything I know. Not that he really did, but I'm willing to bet he'd say it. And when someone greased my rope -"
"What?!" Dad snapped again. "So they're giving you the same shit in the PBR? Thought you said it was better!"
"It is," I insisted. "Sure, there's always going to be some idiot who thinks I shouldn't be there, but we both know that. Dad, the difference is that J.D., Ty, and Renato all worked together to make sure I wouldn't get hurt because of it." Then I paused, debating if I should actually admit the next part. "I, um, got kinda drunk on Saturday. The local bar put a bit more tequila in the margaritas, and um, one of the guys grabbed my boobs, saying they'd throw me off balance. I mean, I threw my drink in his face, but J.D.?" I looked up, all too aware that my father looked ready to kill someone. "J.D. gave him thirteen stitches right after he told Ty to get me out of there. The rest of the weekend, he made sure the rest knew that he could afford to take a fine, and that messing with me was the same as messing with him. He cut a guy, Dad, to make sure they kept their hands off me."
"Cody, that ain't something to be proud of."
"No, it's not," I agreed. "And like I said, J.D. is a bit of a pit bull, but he seems to be my pit bull. He's also a real good bull rider, no matter how twisted he is."
Dad just took another drink like he hoped it would wash away the bad taste in his mouth. "Yeah," he finally said as he put the bottle back down. "So how are you getting to the next event after St. Louis?"
All I could do was shrug. "I honestly don't know. I mean, I didn't even think about it yet. I guess I could ask J.D.?"
"I can't let you take the truck," he said, sounding like he wished he could. "I'm pretty sure it wouldn't make it anyway. Maybe we should spend some of your money on a car? Or a little truck?"
"I'll ask the guys tomorrow," I decided.
Dad grunted at that. "Honey, I really don't want you riding with someone you're dating. That's not gonna end up real good. Never does, at any rate."
"I'm not dating any of them, Dad. I mean, Renato and his wife? Girlfriend? Maybe they have room for a bum?"
Dad just reached across the table and caught my hand. "Well, I'll ask Gerardo if he wants to sell that old F150 he's got, or maybe let you borrow it. Figure then maybe you'll believe that I'm actually on your side in this, sweetie."
"I know, Dad," I promised. "I just..."
"I know," he said, and I honestly believed he did.
"But I'd rather you had that money for the bills," I went on. "And I'm going to need some of it too, because hotels aren't cheap."
"Eating on the road," he added. "And we can't forget the new gear."
"Oh!" I said, jumping up. "You have got to see my new shirt!"
And just like that, the serious talk was over. This time, however, my dad was clearly on my side. I didn't want to admit it, but it felt even better than when I'd been handed my buckle. For the first time in my life, I didn't have to guess what my father thought of me. I knew. Even better, I knew that he was proud. It made all the shit those guys had given me growing up worth it.
