Page 126 of Here With Me
“Fisher, how're things goin' with Jase now?” Gramma Grace asks him fifteen minutes into scrapbooking.
We cleaned up the kitchen before sprawling the supplies across the table. Fisher sat next to me so I could show him the pictures. Then he proceeded to help me decorate the pages, which felt a bit toorelationship-y, but if so, no one else has noticed.
“It'll be a slow process, but I'm glad he agreed to get help and is talkin’ to me. I told him some things from the past that he never knew, so he's also dealin' with that.”
“I knew he wasn't in love with our Noah, but at least, I could see the remorse on his face when he apologized. That's a big step for anyone,” Gramma says, and I blush when she brings me into the conversation.
“It is. I'm spendin' as much time with him as I can between jobs and am tryin' to be there as much as he allows it. His mom ain't my biggest fan, so I'm tacklin' that as well.”
“Mariah will come ’round, especially if she wants what's best for Jase,” Gramma offers.
“I hope so.”
“Look at this one.” Gramma holds up one of the new photos. It's me standing next to the judges’ table and Fisher's sitting closest to me. “That one's a keeper. Put it in the book.”
Her demanding tone has me slowly taking it from her, suspicious as to what she's up to now.
“Refill anyone?” Momma asks, grabbing the coffee pot.
“Yes, please.” Fisher holds up his empty mug.
“No, thanks.” I smile. “I gotta be up early to train with Donut.”
“About that...” Momma puts the pot back before sitting. “You got hurt last summer when you were doing trick ridin' with him. You need a spotter this time.”
“That wasn't my fault, though. Landen kept ridin' his dirt bike near the trainin' center and spooked him.”
“What happened?” Fisher asks.
“Nothin' really. I rolled off and scuffed up my knees. It wasn't that bad. But Donut was shaken up after that, so I didn't continue.”
“That's why you need a spotter this week if you're gonna practice.”
“Momma, I don't need that. I've already warned the boys they aren't allowed to come around the center before nine o’clock. That's why I'm startin' early.”
“Don't matter, sweetie. Can't risk ya gettin' hurt. You have clients countin’ on you. Plus, y’all give me heart attacks with your antics as it is. I don’t need you to give me a real one because you’re in the hospital.”
“I agree,” Dad chimes in from the head of the table. He's been reading the newspaper this whole time. I didn't even think he was listening.
My shoulders slump as I fight the urge to stomp my foot like a pouting child. Have I not proven myself enough around here?
I wave out my arm and shrug. “Well, who am I supposed to ask at the last minute? The ranch hands are all busy through lunchtime. I can't sit around and wait for one of them to come andbabysitme. I have a schedule to stick to and—”
“I'll do it,” Fisher blurts out next to me.
I whip my head around toward him. “What?”
“I'll come in an hour earlier so you can have a spotter. That way, you don't have to worry about waitin' on anyone else.” He shrugs and lowers his eyes down to the scrapbook as if he didn't just ruin everything.
How am I supposed to focus on training with Fisher watching my every move?
“That's a great idea!” Gramma smiles wide. “Fisher has experience handlin' bulls. I'm sure he can handle Donut just fine.”
I pinch my lips together and narrow my eyes at Gramma Grace. Now I know for sure she's up to something.
“I like that idea,” Dad says. “Donut's already familiar with him, too.”
“Now I feel much better knowin' Fisher will be there,” Momma gushes.
