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He looked back and forth between his mother and his father, and the interest in their eyes wasn’t lost on him. He also wanted to tell someone about the things that had been tormenting him for the past two weeks, and maybe those two people were sitting right in front of him.
Part of his brain screamed at him to eat his mom’s famous peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream and keep his thoughts to himself. That had been working for him for the past forty-one years, and if he wanted to talk to someone, he could go back to therapy.
“If we can help,” Mom said. “Let us know.” She stood up. “Now, did you eat too much to have cobbler now? We can sit on the upper verandah if you’d like.”
“I can take my cobbler up there, right?” he asked.
Mom smiled as she picked up his empty plate. “Of course, baby.” She bent down and pressed a kiss to his head. “I’ll get it all out.”
Trey nodded and watched her go into the kitchen. She sang to herself as she got out bowls and spoons, the dishes clacking against each other.
“Thanks for coming,” Daddy said in a low voice. “It means a lot to your mother.”
“I know,” Trey said. “She’s been doing really great.”
“She loves you boys,” he said. “We both do.”
“I know that.” Trey reached up and tipped his hat forward. “Listen, I did want to talk to you about something.”
Daddy leaned into the table. “Go ahead.”
Trey swallowed. “All right now.” He took a moment to find the right words, but they weren’t there. It was the same reason he hadn’t said anything to Cayden or Blaine. There wasn’t an adequate way to explain the situation.
“Do you know Beth Dixon?” he asked right as his mother came back to the table.
“Are we staying in here?” She set a bowl of ice cream and cobbler on the table in front of him.
“No,” Trey said, getting up. “Let’s go outside.” Maybe then he’d know how to explain what was in his head. He carried his bowl and steadied Daddy as he went up the steps to the second half of their back porch.
He took a bite of sweet ice cream and tart peaches. “Mm, Momma, you’re a genius.”
She laughed and continued to help Daddy get settled, tucking a blanket around his legs. Trey wore his jacket too, as autumn had definitely arrived in Kentucky.
“You said something about Beth Dixon,” Daddy said, and Trey caught the sharpness in his mother’s eyes.
“Yes,” Trey said. “I’ve been helping her around her farm the past little bit.” He shifted a little bit, because that wasn’t entirely true. It was true, but that wasn’t entirely altruistic. “Her son’s been hangin’ around the ranch, and I take him home. Then Beth hurt her hand a few weeks ago, and we’ve been helping.”
“We know about that,” Mom said. “Blaine’s told us.”
“Yeah.” Trey took another bite of his treat. “Well, I like her. I asked her to dinner, and she said her father could watch TJ.” He cleared his throat. “We haven’t done it yet or anything.”
“Well, why not?” Mom asked.
“Things are busy, Mom,” Trey said, a touch of darkness in his tone. He didn’t want to go into how Beth had told her father she wasn’t ready to start dating.
“The yearlings sale is in two weeks.” November first was barely beyond that, and Trey’s throat closed.
“I know,” Mom said. “Sorry. Go on.”
Trey didn’t know how to go on. “I don’t want you to get upset.”
“Why would I get upset?” Mom asked.
“Julie, let the man talk,” Daddy said.
“Sorry, sorry.”
Trey took another bite of cobbler. The breeze blew past the white fences and through the pastures beyond. “She’s been in a…tough place since her husband died, and she wants to enter one of her horses into a race.”
