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“I’myour dad,Jacks.Itake care of you, not the other way around.AndIdon’t need a nurse anymore.ButI’llbe fine here withNurseRatcheduntil you get home.”
“Iheard that!”Thenurse—Caroline—calls from the kitchen.She’sreally nice, actually.Allthe nurses have been.
“Takeyour girl to the carnival.Showher off.She’sgood for you, son.You’rea lucky man.”
“IknowIam.Oatswon’t be too much trouble?”
“He’llkeep me company whileIcatch up on some hockey games.”
“Okay, but only if you’re sure.”
“Iam.Gohave fun with your girl.Anddon’t let your brothers do anything stupid.”
Thedecision settled,Iwalk down the stairs to head out to the carnival.
“Youclean up pretty good,JacksonWaters,”Itell him with a smile.He’swearing the same thing he always wears.Jeans, t-shirt, boots.ButIthink maybe he put a little gel in his hair or something?Andhe’s definitely wearing cologne.
“Arethose cowboy boots?”Jacksonis staring at my feet like he’s looking at roadkill.
“They’retoo much, aren’t they?Ithought they were, butLilyinsisted on me getting them.I’mgoing to go change.”WhenIhead back up the stairs to change into a pair of sandals,Jacksongrabs my hand.
“Don’tchange.They’reperfect.”
“I’mnot usually interested in feedback on my clothes, because most of the timeIfeel like me in them.Butcowboy boots are outside my wheelhouse.You’resureIdon’t look ridiculous?Oroffensive, or something?Youwould tell me, right?”
Jacksonsmiles down at me. “Thelast thing you look isoffensive.Iwould tell you,Ipromise.Youlook…fine.”
Ilookfine?Well,Iguess that’s better than roadkill.ButIthoughtIlooked cute in my new white cowboy boots, a short, swingy black dress, and a jean jacket.
“Oh, andIowe you for the boots.Lilyswiped your credit card from my bag and paid for them whenIwasn’t looking.Thatwoman can be sneaky when she wants to be.”
“Youdon’t owe me anything.Considerthem a gift, fromLilyapparently,”Jacksonsays with a laugh.
“Iguess we should get going?”
“Yeah,”Jacksonsays, pushing off from the wall. “We’llbe home late,Dad.”
“Havefun, kids!”Mr.Waterscalls after us, as we head out the front door toJackson’struck.
“Areyou sure we should go to the carnival?Yourdad just got out of the hospital a few days ago…”
“Hepractically kicked us out.Thenurse is there.She’llcall us if he needs anything.He’dprobably just spend the night cursing us out if we stayed home.”
“Oh, okay.Ifyou’re sure.”
“I’msure.Youhave those new boots to show off.Howcomfortable are they?”
“Sofar, so good.ButLilysaid there can be a break-in period.Andthat it can be terrible.”Iwince at the thought.Ithrew a couple of band-aids in my purse, just in case of an emergency.
“She’snot wrong.Ican’t even count the number of blistersI’vehad over the years from a new pair of boots.”
“I’venever seen you wear cowboy boots when you’re inL.A.”
“Maybe.Butyou can take the boy out of the country, you can’t take the country out of the boy.”
Iwish that were true.Jacksonseems happier here inWesternSpringsthan he ever did back inL.A.ButIkind of wish he would let loose and have some fun.SometimesIfeel likeI’msome albatross around his neck, stopping him from doing what he really wants to do.
Staringout at the empty highway in front of us,Itry to make conversation soIdon’t have to sit here in silence.
