Page 34 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight
Cole was trying to hide it, but his little smile was clear under his hair as he dropped his gaze to his coffee and finished it. This kid and riding, Grady thought and laughed to himself.
He finished the cigarette and stood. He told Cole he’d meet him in the barn and went upstairs to get dressed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wandered around his own house like that, in just his sweats, fucking in the kitchen and cooking and eating afterwards. Well, he’d never fucked in the kitchen, and he twisted his lips into a sardonic smile when he thought of the ghost of his daddy catching him at it.
21
I
t was a weeklater, and Grady had to head into town to pick up cutters and combs for the shearing. He’d said he was heading in and Cole set his sights on sulking again, slamming the back door as he whistled up the dogs and went out.
Grady was bewildered. He shook it off and went into town. He got the parts he’d ordered for shearing from the garage and was heading over to the grocery when he ran into Old Man Willy on the street.
“Grady.”
“Will.”
Willy was getting out of his truck and coming up the sidewalk. Grady waited while he stepped in beside him, and they walked together to the grocer.
“Watchya got there?”
Grady told him.
“Late for shearin’.”
“I know it.”
Willy laughed—it had a mocking edge to it, like he was enjoying the fact Grady was shearing too late in the year, when he would’ve damn well known the reason was Grady waiting on the good team.
“Don’t reckon your daddy ever woulda been late like that.”
Willy opened the door and let Grady through. He stepped in behind him like he was planning to follow and continue the conversation.
“Good thing he’s dead then.”
Grady headed for the back to the freezers. Willy didn’t follow. He might’ve been muttering something behind him, but Grady had already forgotten about him. He was going to see if they had some of those popsicles that came in the plastic sleeves. There’d been some in the house Grady wasn’t even aware of until he saw Cole sitting on the front porch sucking on one, his mouth and lips green. He’d been sucking them down every day all week until Grady asked why he wasn’t yesterday and Cole said they’d run out.
Cole never asked for anything in town. Grady was going to see if they had some anyways. The freezer had none. Grady got everything else he needed, went up to the counter and said to put it on his account.
“Sure, hon,” Mavis said and smiled at him. She got to packing everything in the box, careful to make sure it all sat in there just so.
“You got any of them frozen ice things comin’ in again.”
“Gonna have to give me more than that, Grady,” Mavis teased. She’d known him since he was born and treated him like it too.
“They come in the plastic and ain’t got no writing.”
Mavis nodded. “Fla-Vor-Ice. They won’t be in the freezer. You freeze ’em yourself. Go on down that aisle.” She pointed. “Next to the chocolate.”
He found them easily enough, the packet so big they’d last a good month. Grady added them, thanked Mavis and headed out.
Grady pulled up and saw Cole sitting on the steps on the porch, his gaze fixed away like he was too busy to acknowledge Grady driving up.
Grady went up the path and said, “Hey,” as he passed him, but Cole just moved his legs aside and ignored him.
Grady hid his smile. He went inside and unpacked the groceries.
Cole was still ignoring him come dinner.
Cole set Grady’s plate in front of him with a thump, and Grady thought he’d had about enough now.
