Page 80 of Midnight Surrounds Us

He nodded. “But Rye, he doesn’t do that? He’s good to you? Does he make you laugh?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling and letting it show on my face that Rye’s love made me feel happier than I’d ever been. “He makes me feel important and beautiful and smart. I haven’t felt those things in a long time.”

“Well,” Micah said, “then I’m glad. Alright, I better go call Izzy. She’s waitin’ for a report.”

“Tell her I say hi, and tell her you passed her test with flyin’ colors.”

He smiled, his little half grin brightening his face like his dad’s used to, and I wondered if I would ever stop feeling confused about how much I loved seeing Tommy in the boys’ expressions.

As Micah got to his feet, I remembered I’d forgotten to say the most important thing he needed to hear.

“Wait. One last thing. If you think you’re gonna get married someday to Izzy or anyone else, it’s time you learned to pick up your own dirty laundry. In fact, I remember showin’ you how to wash that laundry.” I arched an eyebrow and he nodded reluctantly. “And do the damn dishes once in a while. No woman worth her salt will stand for comin’ home to a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink while her husband drinks beer and watches NASCAR on TV.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted me, and I had to hold back a laugh. Time would tell if my message had gotten through.

“And after you pee, put the mother-lovin’ toilet seat down. An old woman like me could fall through and bust a hip. Then you’ll have to help me shower after my hip-replacement surgery. Nobody wants that, Micah.Nobody.”

“Aw, God, Ma. Okay.”

“Oh yeah, and P.S., now that you’ve got good jobs, after you two pay off your landlord, if you’re gonna live here, y’all are payin’merent. You can buy your own groceries too. You eat enough at every meal to feed a fully grown bear emergin’ from his den in spring.”

“Yeah”—he shrugged—“that’s fair.”

“Oh, and one more thing: I like banana pancakes. Learn how to make ’em and then do somethin’ nice for me every once in a while, eh?”

He chuckled. “You got it. I can’t promise they’ll be edible, but I’ll try.”

“Love you, Emgee,” I said, using the nickname I’d given him back in kindergarten when the boys’ teacher couldn’t tell them apart. She used to check with me every day when I dropped them off to make sure who was who. If she asked them, they lied and traded places, so she separated them to opposite sides of the classroom and then stuck stickers to the backs of their shirts with their initials MG and BG between their shoulder blades, where they couldn’t reach to pull them off. It had taken them half the year to figure out they could take each other’s stickers off or switch shirts in the bathroom.

“Love you, Momgee. See ya later.”

“’Kay. Oh, hey!” I leaned over the back of the couch as he took off down the hall. “Tell Beegee what I said and tell him I wanna talk to him too.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When Micah was safe in his bedroom from any more sex talks with his ma, I carried my mug to the now-empty kitchen sink and dumped out what was left.

I turned and leaned against the counter, thinking about what I wanted to do next.

Right.

It was time for me to bag my cowboy, just like Izzy had said.

But first, a little self-care was in order, and when you were planning to spend multiple days holed up and ravishing your man, you needed to shave and pluck and go get your gray hairs dyed.

I pulled my phone from my back pocket and clicked a few times, then held it up to my ear, and when a familiar female voice answered, I pleaded, “Ronnie. It’s an emergency. Can you fit me in?”

She laughed. “When can you get here? I’ll treat you to the whole shebang: hair, nails, toes, and yeah, I think I’m gonna need to pull out the wax if you’ve got a hot date with a cowboy.”

“Ronnie!”

“What?” she said. “Where is it you think town gossip starts? Everybody knows it’s the salon.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

RYE

The few daysI’d spent near the coast had been eye opening for me. I was right. Regenerative farming was the way of the future.

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