“Grandma, can I play with chalk?”
Once Sophie was settled on the driveway, scribbling happily with the sidewalk chalk my mom kept around just for her, she knelt down beside me and began planting.
“I walked past all the pretty flowers to grab these ugly junkers,” I remarked pleasantly.
“Oh, you stop it!” She laughed, bumping the side of my body while I grinned. “I love petunias. They’re so cheerful.”
“Is that leak in your sink doing better?”
She smiled. “Yes, thank you. Not sure what I’d do without you.”
“Well, I’m not any sort of plumber, so that project could have definitely gone either way.”
I looked up to where she’d parked her car outside the detached garage. “Why aren’t you parking in the garage?”
“I moved your truck in there.”
My stomach tightened, glancing toward the pasture where it had sat all winter. “Why? Just keep it out with the cows.”
“That is a nice truck. I had to have a neighbor come over and help me jump-start it to get it into the garage.”
“I’m gonna get rid of it soon. I just haven’t figured out what to do with it yet.”
“You need to be driving it, Jake.”
“I’m not driving it.”
“Then sell it.”
“I don’t want any money from him.”
“And I thought your dad was stubborn.”
I threw my concentration toward the flowers, not appreciating her claiming I was anything like him. “I’m either going to find a landmine and blow it up or sell it and donate the money somewhere. I just haven’t decided yet.” Possibly because I didn’t even want my dad getting credit for any sort of charity either.
“Your old truck is barely hanging on. I was at Bill Tucker’s shop the other day, and he told me the same thing.” I made a noise but kept my focus on digging the dirt in front of me. She started again; this time her voice was softer. “It was a gift, Jake. You should use it. It’s been years. I’ve moved on from it all. You should too.”
I laughed, though nothing was funny. It came out bitter, and I hated that it sounded like I cared one way or the other. I didn’t. “I’ve moved on, but that doesn’t mean I have to use his bribery toy.” I glanced at the brick garage, hating that the useless truck was taking up her space, and vowed to get rid of it soon. “I want you to use the garage, Mom.”
“I don’t need it in the summer. Stop bossing me around.”
Reluctantly, I gave her a salute and let her win this one.
“Soph! Five more minutes, then we have to go!” I called to my daughter.
My mom sighed. “Thank you for doing this, Jake. I don’t know when you have the time to run to my house and do my chores…” she trailed off, tucking a strand of silver-brown hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you worrying about me so much. I promise I’m doing just fine.”
That was my mom. Independent to a fault. There was no question what made her that way—or rather,whomade her that way—but I had devoted my life to making sure that I was not any sort of burden on her. If taking a half hour out of my afternoon with Sophie to pick weeds was any sort of help to her, I’d do it every week. I owed her everything.
“Speaking of Bill,” she began, “he told me Shelby was working on the ranch with you. I didn’t know that.”
“She’s taking pictures for the ranch for a couple of months. Then she’s moving.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s good.”
There was a beat of silence before she added, “Have you had fun catching up?” as her pointed eyebrow raised in my direction.