Page 11 of Worth the Want
That tracks.
Alder
Chuckling, I set my phone down before turning my attention back to my laptop. I’ve been trying to narrow down the enormous document of Kirk’s phone records. I’ll need to have it all highlighted before I meet with Ms. June’s nephew and his lawyer tomorrow afternoon. After our first meeting, we discovered that Kirk hadn’t spoken to his aunt in over six years. No contact at all, even though he tried to claim phone calls and emails. Ms. June didn’t even own a computer, so I knew that was a lie the moment it came out of his mouth. Which leads me to believe most everything else will be too.
The Sorel family moved into town a few months after Mr. Carter passed. The ranching job that Mr. Sorel moved his family here for was sold within months of them settling in,leaving him needing work. Ms. June caught wind of their predicament, and things fell into place quickly.
It’s shitty that they even have to worry themselves with this right now. Ms. June was clear about what she wanted after she passed. Having your wishes respected is all you have left when you pass. Speaking of respecting someone’s wishes, I’m going to need to have a talk with my family about respecting mine. The blatant display of emotional manipulation from Winnie and Lo this morning isn’t a foreign concept. They’ve teamed up on more than one occasion over the years to get me to agree to their various escapades.
Shopping trips, letting them paint my nails, and of course, the time I drove them to Wyoming for fireworks because theyhadto have the big ones.
I’m really rethinking this tenant thing they’ve sprung on me.At least it’s temporary.I prefer being alone on my property. There’s a peace that comes with having the lake to myself whenever I need the exercise and quiet. My walks around the lake with Hazel, teaching her to fish without an audience, are special.
She’ll be gone in a couple of weeks max. What’s the worst that could happen?
An hour later, I’m slipping my laptop into my briefcase and walking out of the office. Time to go get my girl from Mom and Dad’s. Thankful again for family being so close by, I scroll through the pictures Ivy and my mom have sent me today. In one, she’s wearing a chef hat while helping my mom bake cookies, and it looks like Ivy taught her a new hand gesture.Great.
I make it out to my truck, and as I’m opening my door, I notice a woman holding up her camera toward the mountains. Her sunglasses and the shadow of downtown hide her facefrom my view. I glance at where she’s looking. Having grown up here, sometimes I forget how amazing it is to be surrounded by these mountains.
When I turn my head back to the tourist, I see that she’s already walking away. Making her way down the sidewalk with a bag under her arm, turning her head, looking around as she goes, taking everything in. I’m not sure why, but I smile before hopping into the driver's seat, tossing my things onto the bench seat beside me.
My engine revs loudly, and I pull away from the sidewalk. The drive to my parents isn’t long, maybe twenty minutes. Shifting gears when I make it onto the two-lane highway that leads deeper into the mountains, I use the crank handle on the door to roll the window down and let in some fresh air.
This truck is my longest relationship. It’s been there through all the stages of my life. My dad bought it to use as a farm truck, but after teaching me to drive it, I developed an attachment to it. With a little coaxing, he decided to let me keep it. I picked my first date up in it, had my first kiss in it, and I even brought Hazel home from the hospital in it.
Downshifting, I slow my speed to make the turn onto their tree-lined driveway. I drive the familiar side road without giving it much thought until the trees break and their house comes into view. With it, I see that my brother has joined the party out here today. He has Hazel on his back, and he’s bucking around like a bronc at the rodeo.
Coming to a stop, I park my truck beside Alder’s old Bronco. When I open my door, I’m greeted by the sound of Hazel’s giggling. She’s laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Ivy’s laughter echoes my daughters from where she’s sitting on the porch, enjoying the show her fiancé is putting on in the yard, holdingher growing belly. Mom and Dad step out to see what's going on, my mom snorting as she takes in the scene before her. Seeing Alder act like a circus clown to make Hazel happy isn’t new, but seeing Ivy watch him with undeniable affection is a welcome change.
“Alder, be careful with your niece!” Mom shouts, but she can’t hide the laughter in her voice.
“Oh, she’s tough though. So tough I can’t even buck her off. Isn’t that right, Hazey?”
“Yes! I’m tough!” she yells, grabbing two fistfuls of Alder’s hair, holding on for dear life. He rears back, making a god-awful noise that I think is supposed to be a horse, before starting to buck again.
“Woo! Let’s go, Hazey! Eight seconds!” Ivy shouts, and the whole porch starts counting.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight!”
Cheers erupt, and Alder lies flat on the ground catching his breath. Hazel dismounts and takes an adorable bow. The sight of her proud face—I’m not sure how, but I find new ways to love her more every day.
I let out a whistle, and her head snaps in my direction.
“Daddy!” she shouts, seeing me across the yard from her. “Did you see me?”
“I saw, baby! You’re a real rodeo champ,” I call across the yard.
“I am! I am!” she yells, running toward me, full tilt. I worry she may trip, so I start running for her—arms open. I crouch, and when she hits my chest, it’s like the other part of my heart is there again, making me whole.
“Hi, Hazel,” I say, breathing in the smell of her tiny toddler head. “I missed you,dragonfly.”
“I missed you too.”
“Did you have so much fun with Andy Ivy, and Grammy today?”
“Yes, yes, yes!!” she chants at me, and I grin at my happy girl.
“That’s good to hear.” I tell her, standing with her in my arms, and walking over to the rest of the family.
