Page 44 of Lost and Lassoed

So far, we’d been pressing the ones we’d found between the pages of the guide, but I’d wanted to think of a better way to track it.

Nearly a week after we started foraging, I had an idea, and I was itching for Riley to go to bed so I could get started on it.

The three of us were at the dinner table—Gus was freshly showered, wearing his glasses, and smelling like he’d just stepped out of a lumberjack soap commercial, and Riley was telling him all about Billy Idol.

“How do you know who Billy Idol is?” Gus asked with a shake of his head.

“Teddy is teaching me,” she said. “She says there’s a severe lack of music education at Meadowlark Elementary.”

Gus looked at me with a small smile—like we were sharing our own private joke—and I smiled back.

“Well, she’s probably right.”

“Billy Idol is a vegetarian, so he doesn’t eat meat. Is that what Auntie is?” Riley asked.

Gus shook his head. “Emmy eats some meat, so she’s not a vegetarian.”

“Is chicken meat?”

“Yes.”

“So I’m not a vegetarian?”

“No, Sunshine.”

“But I could be one?”

“If you wanted to, yes.”

“Cool,” Riley said. “Dad, what’s your favorite Billy Idol song?”

“ ‘Rebel Yell,’ probably,” Gus said, and Riley perked up.

“That’s Teddy’s, too!” she exclaimed.

Gus made eye contact with me again and said, “She’s got good taste.”

I nearly choked on my broccoli. God, this whole not arguing with Gus over everything was weird, but I have to say I liked it. Plus, Gus was a good cook, and I really loved not having to make dinner.

I’d been my dad’s caregiver since I came home from college, and I didn’t mind doing it, but it was nice not to have to make dinner every night for a while (though I still made sure my dad was well stocked back home).

After dinner, Gus took Riley upstairs for bath time, and I finally got to start on my plant tracker idea. Once I heard the bath start, I ran to my room and pulled out the piece of cream-colored fabric, my embroidery hoop and thread, and the list of plants Riley and I had prioritized.

I’d also finished patching up her clothes over the weekend, so I grabbed those, too. If they were in the living room where I could see them, I’d remember to take them up to her room in the morning.

I made myself comfortable on the floor of the living room and set the cream fabric—it was about two feet by two feet—on the coffee table and started drawing.

Doing things with my hands was my favorite thing. I’d always loved to draw and paint, and my dad let me do both…everywhere.

When I started getting into clothes, I realized that it wasn’tjust painting and drawing—I just liked being able to create things. I liked having a vision and executing it. I wasn’t like Ada—I couldn’t DIY the shit out of literally everything—but I could art the shit out of anything.

I didn’t know how long it was before Gus came back downstairs, but when he did, he stopped and looked over my shoulder.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“You know how Riley and I are looking for plants?”

“From the 1998 Wyoming field guide? Yeah.”

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