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“I have a strong stomach is all.”
“It’s more than that.”
I don’t know. Maybe itismore than that. Like when I talked to Winnie about beingunflinching. That’s what it all comes down to, right? I’ve always been good at school. Math and science come naturally to me. But I’d want direct contact with people. With kids, even. Pediatric patients. Nursing.
I nearly scoff. A “murse” is what my dad calls them. Male nurses. But I don’t know. Nurses do all the hardest shit, really. Doctors would come in and out of Walker’s room, holding their clipboards and checking the charts. They would read the numbers reported by the nurses and then skip out again. Not that doctors aren’t extremely important. But nurses are the ones on the front lines.
“Riding out the storms,” as Mrs. Jones said.
I think I’d like that. No. Scratch that. I think I’d fucking love it.
I wander down to the kitchen, still lost in my thoughts, and find myself sliding onto a stool while Kerry is elbow-deep in an uncooked chicken. Trisha Yearwood is playing softly over the Alexa speaker. Winnie and Kerry share a taste in music.
“Hey, kiddo,” she says, not bothering to look up from where she’s rubbing copious amounts of seasoning in between the skin and meat. “How was St. James?”
“Not as bad as I’d thought,” I admit. I reach for a corn muffin, peeling away the paper wrapper and taking a bite. “Ryder looked great, and the doctor said his numbers were nice and healthy. They think he might even be discharged by the end of the month.”
“Oh, that’s great news,” Kerry says, sounding relieved. “Did he like the buckle?”
“About shit his pants,” I tell her with a smirk, and she shakes her head at my crassness. “He’s interested in rodeo,” I carry on. “I invited him out here to train with Winnie sometime.”
“Not with you?”
I shrug a shoulder, popping the rest of the savory corn muffin in my mouth. Kerry puts jalapeño in her corn bread, and the spicy-and-sweet combination is heaven-sent. “I mean, yeah, sure, me, too. Unless I’m away at school.”
Kerry stiffens, using her free shoulder to nudge her reading glasses back in place, right below her line of vision. She narrows her eyes at me. “Are you planning to go to school this fall?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
Her soft features brighten. “Really? That’s wonderful. Studying gen eds or what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nursing?”
“Oh, Case,” she exhales. “You’d be a great nurse.”
“You think so?” I ask, playing with the paper, smoothing it on the cool marble top. “You don’t think it’s, I don’t know, kind of feminine? Not thatIfeel that way,” I rush to assure her. “Just… you know what Junior’d say.”
Kerry levels me with a look, plopping the whole chicken ina baking dish and stuffing a bunch of leafy, green stuff around it. She shoves it in the oven and moves to the sink to wash her hands. Then she turns back to me, drying them on a small towel.
“Yes. I know what your dad would say, and I’m sorry for it. But you’re a grown man, Case. You can make your own choices—different choices, even—than your father would make, and while he may give you grief for those choices, in the end, it’s you who has to live with them. So,” she says with a small smile, the one that tells me she already knows what the answer will be. “Can you live with being a nurse?”
“I think I could.”
“Then you should consider it.”
I sit back. “I could be a nurse. A pediatric nurse.”
Kerry beams at me, her eyes watery. “I can see that.”
I can’t believe how right it feels. More right than anything has felt in a long time. Which instantly fucks with my head, growing a pit in my stomach. For so long, I adopted a different kind of dream, and that future looks nothing like college and a nursing degree and working with kids. I stuff down the feeling and nod at Kerry. “Yeah. I think I’d like working with kids like Ryder.” And Walker.
Is that shitty? Would Walker hate me for it? That instead of chasing the thrill of the arena for the rest of my life, I would take care of sick kids. Would he feel like I’m an insult to his memory? Would he feel like I’ve given up on him and our dream—hisdream of a buckle?
I feel a hot flash of impatience at the last part. Because Walker’s not here, and this is my life, not his. In the same breath, I can tell Winnie she needs to think of herself for once and not put aside her dreams for her siblings, and there I go doing the fucking opposite with regard to my dead best friend?
And there’s the guilt.
Kerry hums to herself, ignorant of the storm inside of me. “Good. That’s good, Case. You should check out the University of Texas. I hear they have an excellent nursing program, not to mention a nationally competitive rodeo team.”
