Songbird

Twenty-Eight: Colt

I stayed with her for three days. She was then switched to a brace that more or less just kept her shoulders straight and could go back to being on her own. Could. Didn't mean I was excited about letting her. Who knew staying on her couch for a few days would put visions of a more permanent living arrangement in my head?  Beau and I still came out to help with chores, especially the horse ones. I wasn't about to let her do any heavy lifting yet. She'd make dinner and we'd all just hang out and play board games, watch a movie, or watch Beau run around the yard with the dogs. If I had to be at the bar, Carter went instead. Though I don't think he got the dinner portion of the evening. The more time we were together, the more ready I felt. It felt really natural, just her, Beau and I. It felt like how things were supposed to be. It felt great. More than great even. It felt like we were a real family, and I guess, in my mind, we were. Or we were at least getting there.

After the first week of healing, she had to start physical therapy. I told her to schedule it on the same days as my therapy sessions so we could ride to Duncan together. Pretty sneaky way to make sure we got alone time, if you ask me. She put up a bit of a fight being the hard-headed, independent woman she was, but I went with the whole 'it's more economical' schtick and that seemed to work. Her only caveat was giving me gas money, which normally I then used to buy her lunch or dinner. Needless to say, Tuesdays and Thursdays were my favorite days of the week and would be, for at least the next six while she was in PT.

She spent Thanksgiving with Mom, Beau and I at the house. Cora, Travis and Carter came over, too. The next day all the ladies headed to Atlanta for some shopping, leaving Beau and I to handle things at Orchard. We were heading out for the evening chores, and I could tell there was something on his mind.

"Spit it out, kid," I stated as I turned down the Merle Haggard blaring over the stereo.

"What?"

"You look like you got a belly full of butterflies. What's going on?"

"Do you love Lennie?"

My eyes widened and an eyebrow arched. "Course I do."

"And she loves you..."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure..."

"Then why aren't you together anymore?"

I chuckled to myself a bit. "It ain't that easy, kid."

"Why?"

"Because dear old Dad's got a lotta issues he's trying to work his way through..."

"Yeah, but you're better."

"Not completely."

"Dad, you're never gonna be one hundred percent better. That's not how it works," Beau stated.

"Oh really? How does it work then?"

"You just learn to deal with stuff better. And you have. You're happier. You drink less..."

I winced. "I didn't know you noticed..."

"I'm a kid, Dad. I'm not stupid."

"No. No, you definitely are not."

"She makes you better, you know."

"I know she does, man, but I need to be better on my own, too..."

"You ARE," Beau stated firmly. "But you don't have to be perfect... if you're waiting for that, you'll end up waiting forever."

"Damn, kid. Who's teaching you philosophy?"

"Gramma. You know what else?"

"What else?"

"I don't think it's that you're not ready. I think you're just a chicken shit. Both of you are."