Page 55 of Head Over Spurs

“I’m here. Have you been waiting long?”

Clicking the tablet dark, her mom tucked it into her purse as she shook her head. “Not waiting, just enjoying this charming new place.” She reached for a menu as she added, “Thisiswhat I enjoy.”

Jules reached for a menu as well, even if she always ordered the same thing. It was something to do with her hands at least.

“What is?”

“Experiencing new places, enjoying the different atmospheres.” Her mom waved her hand in the air as if she already understood the appeal of the unique, modern dive.

“Well, I’m glad you are able to immerse yourself,” she snorted in response. Irritation pricked at the corner of her mind. It wasn’t fair to be irritated by her mom’s wish to see new places. And she even agreed with Francine that Norma’s had a special atmosphere. Yet the needled sensation remained.

Her mom was silent as her eyes scanned the various pizza options on the thick card-stock sheet. Then, as if decided, she set the menu back down and smiled softly.

“You travel as much as I do, so you must understand. Every single place has its own unique tone. Even a modern pizzeria just a few hours away won’t be the same as one back home.”

“I understand.”

I’m just like her, Jules thought. And she sees it too.

Have you told Dad? The question she pointed at her mom last night rattled around, trapped by her own feelings of guilt. She had no right dolling out that advice if she refused to follow it herself.

But that was what she was here to do, wasn’t it? Take her own advice. Take a page from Riley’s playbook, and Maddie’s too for that matter. Everyone around her seemed to be taking control of their own lives. Everyone but her.

A temporary reprieve from her thoughts presented itself as the server appeared to take their order. And as her stomach rumbled long and low, she made a silent vow to say her piece as soon as the food arrived—just in case she needed to make a quick getaway, this way she would be able to take her food to go.

“You’re quiet,” her mother remarked, delicately cradling the wine glass in her hand.

“Just hungry.”

“Work up an appetite at the ranch this morning?”

Her face flushed as images of her and Riley tangled up together in the tack room came to mind. She certainly had worked up an appetite. For more of him.

“Mhm,” she hummed nonchalantly.

“Tell me more about your work with Ri?—”

“Here you are,” the server announced in a chipper tone. She deposited the wood fired buffalo chicken in front of Jules before handing Francine a pizza that looked more like a salad, a heaping pile of arugula atop the crust.

“This looks delicious. Thank you,” her mom beamed, lifting a slice in a cheers motion.

With a pleased smile, the server took her leave. They were alone once again, and it was time.

“Mom,” Jules started. “I think we need to finish the conversation from yesterday.”

“Okay, what else is on your mind?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked at the glisten forming across her palms. She didnotget nervous. Why was this so hard?

“You said you left because Dad didn’t care. He didn’t miss you. But you don’t know that, not really. Because you weren’t there to see him bury himself in work to stave off the pain. Maybe it wasn’t just Grandpa he was missing.” Her voice trembled; her heart raced. But the pieces were clicking in her brain with every truth she finally spoke.

With momentum now, she continued. “He needed your support. He had just lost his dad, his mentor. And suddenly everything Grandpa built was up to him to figure out.”

“I didn’t leave immediately. You don’t know,” her mom protested.

“You don’t get to put a timeline on his grief. Or mine. You don’t think I missed you? Needed you?”

Her heart leapt into her throat with the admission that came next. “I did.”

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