Page 26 of Redemption

“Because... I just can’t see it anymore. It’s not like I have this biological need to procreate. I’d only want children because I’d want a family with a man I couldn’t live without. I know what great love feels like, and I don’t see that ever happening for me again. Thirty may not be old in a physical sense, but some days, Mama, I feel ninety on the inside. I feel like there’s nothing left for me in this world.”

My mom slams a hand over her mouth to cover her sob. “Oh, baby.”

I wave her off like it’s no big deal that I have nothing to live for. “It’s the hand I was dealt. My poor choices have led me to this point, so it’s my fate to accept.”

She wraps her arms around me from behind. “Presley, kids, or no kids, you have a lot of life ahead of you. And you’re allowed to make mistakes. The important thing is that you learn from them, change course accordingly, and move on. I think maybe you’ve been surviving for so long, you forgot what living feels like. Some days are going to be tough; you’ll feel like you’re nothing more than a pile of ashes. But on the days you actually get to live life to its fullest, when that fire inside of you burns bright, those are the days you have to hold on to, knowing that each new day is an opportunity for another just like it.”

“There you go, being all profound again.”

She chuckles. “My wisdom is finally catching up with these gray hairs of mine.”

I wipe the remainder of my tears away. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” She punctuates her statement with a gentle squeeze.

I stand up and smooth out my shirt. “I think I’m going to go freshen up in the bathroom and join the boys after.”

A wide grin stretches across my mother’s face. “I think that’s a great idea, Pres.”

* * *

“Thanks for dinner, Ma. It was amazing, as always.” Clayton bends down to pull my mom into a hug.

“You know you’re welcome anytime.” She pats his cheek condescendingly. “Lord knows you’d never eat a solid home-cooked meal again if left to your own devices.”

“Hey, I cook!”

She gives him a wry look. “Frozen dinners or leftover pizza doesn’t count.”

Clayton smirks. “I’m a single guy, Ma. I’m pretty sure leftover pizza and frozen dinners cover all the major food groups of bachelorhood.”

Mama whacks the back of her hand against his chest. “You’re thirty-two, Clayton Daniel. Not twelve.”

“Shit, she middle-named me. I must be in trouble, now.” Clay looks to me for sympathy.

I think I surprise all three of us when I belt out a laugh.

“Ah, there she is!” Clay points to me. “I was wondering when I’d get to see the old Presley.”

My laughter dies. “I think I’m going to call it a night. It was good seeing you, Clay.”

“Pres, hold up,” he calls my name as my foot hits the bottom stair. “Walk me out?”

I look over my shoulder and meet his pleading eyes. “Yeah... okay.”

All the ranch hands have gone home by now, but that doesn’t stop me from grabbing an old snapback and pulling it low over my face. If my brother notices what I’m doing, he’s kind enough not to call me out on it.

I lean up against the side of Clay’s shiny black F-350, waiting for the questions I know are coming.

He kicks some gravel around. “So... you give any thought to what you’re going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m assuming you’re sticking around for a while, right?”

I haven’t really thought about it, but that option certainly makes the most sense.

“Most likely. Why do you ask?”

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