Page 35 of Fool for You
“That was a joke,” I admitted, “but glad you tried all your options. See?” I reached up and patted his shoulder, realizing for the first time how much taller he was than me. “Cowboy hats aren’t all that bad. Now you’ll fit in. You even have dirt on your jeans.”
Wyatt’s grin turned into a full ear-to-ear smile, complete with a laugh as we made our way to the register. He even bought my earrings.
Twelve
Wyatt
Me
What'cha think?
*sends mirror selfie*
Abi
Holy shit, you’re wearing a cowboy hat.
Me
Quinn insisted.
Abi
Looks good. That means you have…three now?
Me
Something like that. Quinn said I needed it to fit in.
Abi
And are you fitting in?
Hawkins
Hey man, I have some not so good, good news.
ThetextfromHawkinspulled me away from the chat with my sister. It had been weeks since I had heard from him. Weeks of silence and then ‘not so good, good news?’ What did that even mean? Hawkins had been radio silent for weeks, only solidifying that I was most likely never going to announce again. Keeping busy at the stables and being with Quinn was a nice distraction from the fact that I was still off committee lists, but now—Hawkins had my full attention.
Not even bothering to text him back, I hit his number to call.
“Hey, Wyatt,” he answered quickly, a slight shake to his normal, solid tone.
“Hey, Hawk.”
“I take it you saw my text.”
“Yeah, care to elaborate?” I took my new hat from my head and tossed it on my bed, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. 2:30 p.m.—I had to meet Quinn soon. “Quickly,” I added.
“In a rush?” he asked.
“Yes and no. What did you mean by not so good, good news?”
“I saw your name on a committee for Reno.”
My entire body flinched, and at the same time, a knot began to form in my stomach. I couldn’t have heard him right. The Reno Rodeo was huge, one that I had yet to announce at. It was just as big as Days of ‘47 in Utah, or Cheyenne Frontier Days in Wyoming…if my name was on the list for announcers, maybe my fuck-up wasn’t as bad as I really thought.
“Hawk, that’s great news, not justgoodnews,” I said, my voice ragged as I soaked this in. My mind ran through past events. I screwed up in October of last year, I bummed around until the NFR, then came home. Bummed around some more…then finally started to work. I never fully felt like myself. I missed the piece of me that I found behind the microphone. This…this was hope in the form of a phone call.
