Page 27 of Wicked Cowboy
My mother ran the group like it was more important to her than her family. We held more political dinners over mashed potatoes than most people might ever understand, and I asked, “Do I need to give an answer right now on the invitation to go?”
“No, not at all,” Sally said and then slipped a business card out of her back pocket while she spoke. “Take your time. We meet the fourth Sunday of every month. Here is my card.”
Ridley took it. “Thanks.”
Sally turned to go but then stopped and handed me the small bag she had. “Almost forgot, here is your ring, which was the main reason I stopped over.”
“Thanks, Sally.”
Sally nodded. “I volunteered so Yvette could get home to her son. Now y’all get some sleep as we’ll see you at the funeral tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, we would be out in public together. Ridley trembled but soon settled. “Bye, Sally. I’ll call you in a few days once I’m more settled in.”
Sally headed out the door and waved as she said, “Of course. Night y’all.”
We walked back to the kitchen and she asked, “Who was that?”
The widow of a friend who I lost on a mission. Her husband was one of the five reasons I’d never actually be happy again. I pressed my hand to my heart.
“I served with Sally’s husband. We joined the Navy together.”
I couldn’t mention Aaron, Dora, or anyone else who died on my watch. It felt wrong.
Ridley opened the refrigerator and asked, “Friends are nice to meet. Was he home with the children she mentioned?”
I stalled. “He’s… buried in a grave at the cemetery where we're going tomorrow.”
She stood in front of me with her head down. “What time is the funeral?”
“In the morning.” I patted her shoulder and then shoved the bag toward her. “Put your ring on.”
I heard her stomach grumble, but she put it on. “I feel guilty for being happy.”
I kissed her forehead and then said, “They’d want us working together to help with Chelsea.”
“Right.” She said without looking at me. I corralled some chicken and bread to make us some sandwiches. It took her a few seconds, but she joined me and snatched an avocado and started cutting it. “That’s the deal, but I’m still reeling from the bedroom.”
I shoved the bread in front of her. “Speaking of, I didn’t use a condom. That’s never happened before.”
She nodded and continued to cut the avocado. “We discussed having children.”
She made the simple chores somehow more fun. The avocado seemed a brighter green to me. I waited for her to put the knife down and leaned beside her. “We did, but if you want to do something different, we can.”
“I know the options.” She didn’t blink as she stared at me. “I’m a nurse.”
I put the rest of the chicken and the bread back to where they belonged and asked, “Are you on the pill?”
“No.” She rubbed the back of her head and shook it. “It always made me hormonal and I’ve been on a long dry spell.”
My shoulders widened. I didn’t need another man coming to claim the woman who was now mine, but I asked, “When was the last guy?”
She put the sandwiches on plates and nudged one at me. “Are we trading info?”
“Sure,” I said and quickly ate.
She took her time with a few bites. Once she put down half her dinner, she said, “I’ve had some boyfriends, nothing serious, and none of them did what you did to me in there.”
Pride swelled in my chest. I put my plate away as she finished her sandwich. “Well, no more boyfriends and clearly you had bad choices.”
