Chapter Eight
Austin
I waited in the barn like a coward for Alma to drive up before I got in my truck and headed out. Dad needed someone there before I went too far, but at the same time, there were errands to be taken care of.
The post office was my first stop since the mail lady decided years ago that everyone would be better off having a P.O. Box for their mail. It also meant she didn’t have to leave the post office and drive to our house anymore either.
“Austin, how’s your father?” I knew that voice like my own, maybe better. I’d taken countless commands from it and feared it for a long time.
I turned to see Alma’s father, Mr. Villanueva, standing next to me, dressed like he was going to a rodeo instead of this dinky post office. He tipped his hat at me when I met his eyes, black and endless like Alma’s.
“We’re taking it day by day. Seems like he takes four steps forward and six backward. But we’re praying hard and Alma’s trying to work her miracles.”
A hint of a smile threatened the corner of his mouth at the mention of Alma.
“She’s been known to work miracles.”
“Yes, sir.”
I pretended to check my box for more mail, determined not to choke on the tension that hung in the air between us.
“Well, see you.”
I nodded back to him but he’d already walked past me and out the door.
Those were the most words Alma’s dad and I had spoken in six years.
The junk mail got thrown in the trash then I sat in my truck filing through the rest, careful to tuck the medical bills under the seat so Dad wouldn’t see them. I’m almost finished paying off the first round. He didn’t need to be stressed by any of it. He needed to focus on getting healthy.
With my errands done at the feed store and after picking up some vaccinations from the vet, I headed over to Vera’s for lunch. The truck hadn’t been in park for more than two minutes when someone began knocking on the driver’s side window.
It was Tara.
Once upon a time, she was my friend too.
I rolled down the window. “Hey, stranger. Hear you’re gettin’ hitched soon.”
“I am. I’ve been addressing invites all morning. You grabbing a burger?”
“Yes, ma’am. You want to join me or will your ball and chain throw a fit?”
“Heck no. He’s so chill about everything. Let’s go. Your treat.”
I nodded and jumped out of my truck while Tara went in and got us a table. The place was your typical diner complete with red and white checkered tablecloths.
“I already ordered. Get over it.”
Tara hadn’t changed, that was for sure. She’d always been honest and not afraid to speak her mind.
Sometimes she spoke everyone else’s mind as well.
“Tell me about this Michael,” I said as the waitress put our drinks on the table.
Tara blushed a little and swished her straw around in her drink. “He’s actually not my typical guy, which is why I think I love him. I’m prone to date jerks. Always have. Michael’s the opposite of that, and I didn’t know how much I wanted that in a spouse until I met him. It’s crazy.”
I smiled at her. She was overjoyed and very much in love. Anyone could tell. “Your dad will come around. Your mom too. They just have to see how well he treats you. And how fast y’all give them grandkids. Instant anger ender.”
We laughed but I sobered before her. There was a chance my dad might not ever have grandkids.
The mention of grandchildren started Tara on a tangent that lasted through my burger and fries and half of her milkshake.
The girl could talk.
“I’ve got a question for you.” The sentence took me off guard. I’d been passively listening to her go on and on about her wedding dress and flowers and groomsmen, I’d actually spaced out.
“Shoot.”
She stirred her straw around in her milkshake. “She’s not sixteen anymore. And even though she probably doesn’t realize it, her parents will still love her no matter who she marries as long as she is happy and that man is good to her.”
Tara was right, of course. Alma wasn’t sixteen anymore.
“I can’t force her to make the choice, Tara. I’ve given her an ultimatum before and look how it turned out. If I do that, she’s going to run the other way again. I know she’s not that young girl anymore, but I’m not twenty-three anymore either. I’m not stupid enough to have my heart smashed all over again.”
She sighed and took another long pull of her milkshake, following it up with a comment about how she wasn’t going to be able to fit into her wedding dress.
“Are you still in love with her?” She blurted out just as the waitress was putting the check on our table. Her face said it all, she would have a new story to tell someone tonight.
I hesitated out of fear. I knew that on one hand, she would tell Alma what my answer was – that was the bad thing. But on the other, she would tell Alma what my answer was – that was also a good thing.
“Never fell out of love with her.” I shrugged and avoided eye contact.
Expecting a snarky comeback but not getting one, I looked at Tara. “You gonna tell her I said that?”
She shook her head. “No. But you’d better. One of these days she’s gonna quit comparing every man her dad sets her up with against you and settle for someone who could never love her like you do. Then she’ll be miserable and I’ll blame you. And worse, deep down, she’ll blame you too.”
It wasn’t true. Alma would blame herself.
But still, I’d be living at my farm just as miserable.
I would blame myself, above all.
I would always wonder what if.
“What do you want me to do, Tara? Walk up to her and confess my undying affection? I’m not that kind of guy.”
She laughed. “Well, you’d better do something – and quick.”