“Thanks, Pa. That means a lot.”
His place on the farm…
A parcel of land just like Henry’s. A place of his own in Poblocki… I set that thought in the back of my mind so I can work on it later.
I step around the doorway and Wyatt’s eyes snap to mine. “Good morning,” I say as I move through the kitchen toward the coffee pot.
“Good morning,” both men respond.
I use the couple seconds it takes me to get a mug down and fill it with coffee to hide my face and school my features. Emotions whir in my mind, questions without answers. Does Wyatt see himself coming back here when his football career is over? If he’s so dedicated to Wisconsin, why hasn’t he done anything with his land? When his parents are too old to work at the farm anymore, will he feel obligated to come back and help Henry? It’s kind of pointless to think about where I could be in the future. I’ll go wherever volleyball takes me. But when that’s over…isHouston my forever home? Could I be happy retiring here if that’s what Wyatt wants?
I’ve got even more questions to think about than before.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
WYATT
The unfettered joy I felt at returning that lime green Kia could only be matched by plopping my ass on my own couch. The trip from Poblocki to home was smooth sailing but I’m glad to be back in my own house.
Nash and I are still in this alternate state. Two people who have admitted their love for one another, but aren’t together. The bottom line is, I believe love is enough. I’m not giving up on Wisconsin, on getting to be with Nash for real. Despite the odd circumstances between us, she didn’t immediately pack a bag and dip, so things are okay for now.
Nash comes back in the room as I’m sprawled out on the couch. “Did you see the weather?”
“I never pay attention to the weather. It’s June, it’s hot. What is there to check?”
“Uh, it’s hurricane season?”
I chuff. “The Hurricanes season doesn’t start until September. Training camp is late August.” I jump as she whacks me with a rolled-up magazine like a naughty dog.
“No, you oaf. Actual hurricanes. Not your football team.”
“What about actual hurricanes?”
“There’s one coming,” she says, and it’s so unbothered that I have to do a double-take.
“Come again?”
“They’re tracking a hurricane in the Gulf.” She shows me the Weather Channel post on her phone. “It looks like it’s going to hit us.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.”
I sit up straight from the couch. The news of an imminent natural disaster catapulting me from my reclined seat. “Tomorrow night? Why are we just now hearing about this?”
“We weren’t here, so I wasn’t really paying attention. We were lucky to even get in today.” She flips her wrist likedamn, I can’t control the weather.
I stand up because I think better on my feet. “What do we do?”
She eyes me for a split second and her eyes go wide. “Holy shit, this is your first hurricane.” She moves and takes me by the shoulders. “Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time to get ready. Plus, right now it’s only a category two.”
“That’s good?”
“Well, it goes to five, so two is lower than five.” I nod, but she keeps talking. “It will likely gain some momentum before making landfall, so it’ll probably be a three by the time it hits us.”
“Three?” I put my hands in my hair. “That’s closer to five!” What a horrible welcome back gift. Almost like the city is punishing me for coming back. Maybe I was wrong—Houston sucks, I don’t want to stay here. I knew everything would be ruined when we came back to Texas. She’s about to see how unprepared I am for a natural disaster and decidethat she doesn’t love me because I don’t know how to protect her.
She reaches up and pulls my hands out of my hair. “I know what to do. We are going to do it together and everything is going to be fine.”