Page 33 of Colt
I shrugged. “This is the only place I’ve ever lived. Even moving forty-five minutes away seems weird.”
“It’s a good tether,” he says. He sits down at the table, that leg straight out in front of him. He doesn’t look quite as tired or terrible as he did yesterday. I’m relieved to see it.
“What do you mean by tether?”
“It’s a place I always want to come back to. But I don’t necessarily want to be here all the time.”
“Right. You like traveling with the rodeo.”
“I like being different all the time. We moved from Bend when I was little, but I barely remember living there. I remember we had a little house with a yard, and there was a river that ran right behind it. There was a fence, and my mom used to always warn me about climbing that fence. I didn’t listen, of course.”
“Well, that’s terrifying. Pediatric drowning is one of the leading causes –”
“I know. But I was young and dumb and thought I was invincible. I thought I was invincible until about three weeks ago.”
Silence settles between us for a moment. There’s a real heaviness to his words. He’s not kidding. For a moment, I mourn the passing of that man who never considered his mortality. It was part of what made him who he was. This experience is going to change him, not just physically. It’s already changed me. It introduced me to the horror of the sudden, random trauma. I was already familiar with the kind you could see coming from a mile away.
“I’ll dish you some food.”
“I will,” he says. “I’ve barely been up and down all day. It’ll be good for me.” He stands up, slowly, and walks on his crutches over to the kitchen island, where he picks up a plate. It’s hard for me not to help. I want to make it easier for him, but I know that’s not what he wants. I know that what he wants is his independence back. To not have his stepsister looming around. I suppose I don’t need to stay for dinner. And yet… He’s the kind of man who usually goes out every night. The kind who’s used to uproarious applause and traveling with a huge band of people. He’s not used to being alone. I worry much more about his mental health than anything else.
I dish my own food, and then I sit down with him. The tension from this morning seems to be gone. He doesn’t seem as angry.
“What did you do all day?”
“Watched TV. There are some really trash talk shows that I can’t believe still exist.”
“Oh. That’s… Good.”
“Probably not. Odds are, I’m doing serious damage to my health and wellness. Though in the case of ten-month-old Jeremy, Keith was the father.”
I frown. “Was that good?”
“For Tanya. I don’t think it was good for Keith.”
“Hey, the comfort of truly garbage TV is sometimes the exact thing that a person needs.”
“How about you?”
“We’ve got to do some permanent jewelry installations today. I did some studying. I have a final on Friday.”
“You sure do a lot,” he says.
I’m stunned by this statement. Because I would’ve thought that he and Gentry would see me as boring if they thought about me at all. I would’ve thought that they would feel like I do very little in comparison to them. Gentry fights fires, and Colt is a rodeo cowboy. I’m oddly touched that he sees what I do as being a large amount of anything.
“It’s just working and going to school. A lot of people do that.”
“I guess. But I’m sure that you could skip the working part-time if you wanted to.”
“Yeah. Well, I’m not going to work for the last year of school. I’m finishing this term and then I start clinical rotations at the hospital so I won’t be working.”
“Oh, you’ll actually work at the hospital while you’re still in school?”
“Yeah, this program starts you a little later on rotations, but that’s because I did most of my credits online. Anyway, it’s been a little bit of a slower path, and I’m sure that my dad would payfor everything. But it just seems… Your mom letting me live in one of her rentals is so kind, and my dad is helping pay for my school. It’s better to have a little bit of money that’s mine.” I look down at my plate. “I was talking to Sarah today about resilience. She was just saying that she always knew life wasn’t going to treat her fairly. But she did her best to muscle it into the best-case scenario. If she can do that, then the least I can do is work and go to school. The least I can do is put my back into it for my dream.”
“Yeah. Fair enough. But I’m still impressed. You couldn’t have paid me to go to school any longer than I had to. And here you are, doing it by choice.”
It surprises me that he’s being this nice.
