Page 41 of A Cowboy Home for Christmas
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LAUREN
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What’s that saying? Ovaries explosion? Cause that’s exactly how I feel when I spot big burley Barker carrying my sassy small Lark.
Ovaries explosion.
He sets her down beside the row of kids Clara sits with. Even from the distance, my baby’s worn slap out. She finds a spot beside her sister. Clara smiles at her, and gives her one of the light-up fox stuffed animals we bought in the gift shop.
“Two peas in a pod, those two.” Barker stuffs his hands in his pocket beside me.
“What did you two do?”
He grins the most delicious grin. “We took out anger out on some moles.”
“Moles?”
“Whac-a-mole, the arcade game.”
“You encouraged her to take her anger out by beating up animals?”
“She’s not like you and Clara. She doesn’t cry, Lauren. She gets angry and she’s need an outlet to release that anger so it doesn’t consume her.”
I bite my lower lip, unsure violence is the right direction.
“When he died, I took my anger out on a punching bag. I beat it until my knuckles were bruised. I hit it until I didn’t need to hit it anymore. I understand, Lark. Trust me.”
“I always trust you.”
“Then when we return home and she asks for me to take her to the arcade, you phone me. And I’ll do it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” He turns back to the mascot woodland animals reading a Christmas story. “What the hell is happening here?”
I laugh. “It’s story time.”
“Story time that nightmares are made of.”
I elbow his side. “You know we’re gonna have to talk about how to move forward once we get back home.”
“We will.”
“I’m not ready to tell the girls.”
“I understand.”
“But the girls do have sleepovers at your mama’s house, so maybe we could go out for supper or a movie or something. Just the two of us.”
“I would like that.”
“Me too, but I think we’re going to have to tell your parents.” The thought curdles my stomach. Just saying the words will make it so real. I suspect they are all waiting for us to step out of denial. So they won’t likely be surprised. But it needs to be said.
“And we will have to talk to the girls about Alison and the baby.”
I want to lean into his side and feel the security of his arm around my shoulder. But I can’t. Instead, I step close enough to him that our sides touch.
