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“He should know better.”
“He does. It’s just how he is.”
She closed the distance between us and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “What would have happened if you had given your dad the same grace you give Norville?”
She strode away, leaving me to ruminate over what she’d said.
* * *
Laney
Archer dropped me off in town and went to find a better signal. The heat beat down on the sidewalk, so I found the ice cream shop I’d remembered. I waited in line for twenty minutes before I finally made it to the front to order a creamy mint chip cone. I thought of messaging Archer to ask what he wanted, but ice cream wouldn’t last long in this heat.
I walked out of the shop and put my sunglasses back on. The ice cream was perfect. I’d been roaming town for an hour. How much longer would Archer be? I wanted to show him the candy shop where they made taffy for us to see. And the unique souvenirs full of toys our parents would’ve played with as kids—things like cheap plastic dolls and silver six-shooters with orange handles.
I wandered through town, all the way down to the zip line. I squinted at the couple going up the line, their legs swinging out of their bucket seats. What was that view like?
I licked my cone. Why didn’t I go on it? I wanted to experience it, and I was in Medora. I hadn’t been here since I was in high school. The zip line might not be around if I didn’t get here for another ten years.
I found the booth to buy tickets. My phone buzzed while I was standing in line.
How’s it going? I won’t be much longer.
I snapped a picture of the couple zooming down the line to the starting point and sent it.I’m going on a ride.
He called.
I answered. “Gonna talk me out of it?”
“You haven’t gone yet?”
“No, I had to finish my ice cream. I’m in line to buy tickets.”
He groaned. “Ice cream sounds good right now.”
“It was.” Norville was being a hard-ass to make a point. Archer knew it. I knew it. I didn’t have to lay out what my husband was missing. But dammit, the afternoon would’ve been a lot more fun with him. If it was legitimate work, I’d understand. But Norville liked to make a mountain out of pinto beans to feel like a big man.
“Get two tickets,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the start.”
I smiled as I hung up. I reached the counter. Damn. There were waiver forms.
I messaged him.I can’t get tickets. You have to sign a waiver.
He didn’t respond. Was he on his way? I hovered by the ticket stand. Watched the mini-golfers from a distance. People streamed past me.
This wasn’t like Archer. He’d never stood me up in Dallas. He worked a lot. He’d put the Truitts’ needs and feelings over mine. I wasn’t sure what to think. Was this a sign of what it would be like if we got back together? Norville flexing to remind Archer of what he thought my husband’s priorities should be, and my husband striving to please him?
A woman heading my way craned her neck to look behind me, an appreciative look on her face. Then she nudged her friend.
Curiosity made me look over my shoulder. A tall man wove through the crowd, his intense gaze on me from under the brim of his distressed-denim hat.
My grin was as instant as my relief. “I wasn’t sure you got my message.” I wasn’t sure he hadn’t ignored me.
“Sorry.” He gave me a quick kiss. “I was driving, and then it took me so long to find a parking spot, I forgot to respond.”
I should’ve had more confidence. I twined my fingers through his, and we got our tickets. There wasn’t a long line, but I described the shops I’d been to.
He nodded and listened. We buckled in, and the bucket seats climbed higher and higher. The view spread out before us. The western-style strip mall. The landscape with the bushy trees and hundreds of tourists. The traffic coming to and from town.
“This is cool,” he breathed and grabbed my hand again. “Thanks for waiting for me.”
“I’m glad you could come.”
The ride stopped at the highest peak. His thumb stroked the back of my hand. “Show me everything in town you think I missed out on, then we’ll grab supper. And tonight…” He gave me a searing-hot look and my breathing stuttered as our seats lurched forward for the swift ride down to the start. “We’re going back for ice cream, and I’m going to lick up every last drop.”
Oh…He wasn’t talking about the cone. If I’d wanted to wipe out my earlier concerns about how his job might interfere with us, that would do it. It wasn’t a long-term solution, but I was willing to accept it for the rest of the weekend.
