Chapter Two
Lainey
On the long, hot, sunbaked drive from New York to Texas, I wasn’t sure what was driving me crazier—the tedious hours in the car, or the fact that my dad had traded our posh New York City penthouse for a ranch in El Paso, Texas. Who the hell does that? I fumed.
We’d stopped speaking to each other a few miles back. I wasn’t going to be the first one to give, and neither was he. With every mile we drove farther away from New York, it felt like another part of my soul got ripped away. I didn’t want to live on a ranch in Texas and my only saving grace was that I’d planned to attend grad school at NYU in the fall. I only had to endure a summer on the ranch although my dad still tried to convince me to stay and make a life in Texas. I was sure he’d gone bat shit crazy.
I’d already put off grad school for a year while I created an elaborate bucket list for Mom who’d been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer when I was twenty. As soon as I got my BA, I made traveling to the Andes, hiking Mt. Fuji, and eating gelato on every continent with her, a life goal. My mom had a few goals of her own she wanted us to accomplish together, so we did.
I’d been so impressed that we’d ticked every item off her bucket list, that I hadn’t seen the signs, and before I knew it, she was gone. Her dying wish was that Dad and I fill his bucket list together, but there was only one thing on it—buy a ranch in Texas.
Voila, we turned into the driveway of a mammoth-sized farmhouse in the middle of Nowhere, USA. I guess it’s true what they say—everything’s bigger in Texas. I knew I was being a brat for hating it, but it wasn’t on any of my lists anywhere… ever.
“Oh my God,” was all I could choke out.
It was hard for him to hide his astonishment “It’s much bigger than it seemed on the internet,” he ogled.
“What are we going to do with all that space, Dad?” I asked, sounding lost.
“I know this isn’t what you want, sweetheart,” he confessed.
He looked sad and alone. I hadn’t even really thought about Dad. I’d been too busy worrying about my own feelings, and my grief over losing my mother, I hadn’t thought about him losing his wife. He hated Manhattan because it was everything she was. He was a country boy who’d fallen for a beautiful city girl thirty years earlier. The love story was legendary and yet, as I stared into his hazy blue eyes, I saw a man just as lost as I was.
“Who knows… I might fall in love with cows, and dirt, and…” I started to feel nauseous.
“You’re too much like your mother, honey, but I appreciate you trying.” I really loved my dad.
“It’ll be a crazy adventure, that’s for sure. Shall we go see the place?” I asked, hoping to change gears—I didn’t need to cry anymore.
“I can’t believe you bought a house without even flying out here to see it first,” I playfully scolded.
“We Skyped a few times, and they showed me around. It looked perfect.” He seemed to be doubting his own judgment at that moment.
“There isn’t a family of cannibals waiting in the barn with chainsaws is there?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Oh, Lord. I hope not,” Dad said, a bit rattled as he took a set of keys out of a FedEx envelope and fumbled with the ancient lock.
“Watch out for children with glaring white hair and vacant stares,” I teased as he jimmied the wrong key into the hole.
As I terrorized my father, I saw a tractor in the distance and it seemed to be coming toward us, which got me worried. Maybe I’d freaked myself out watching old horror movies, but I was genuinely concerned as the tractor inched closer and closer to our house. I wanted to nudge my dad along, but thankfully he found the right key and the rusty door swung open on creaky hinges.
“Gonna have to oil that,” I heard him mumble.
As soon as we entered, my heart fell a little deeper into my chest. It was massive, and not as dusty or decrepit as I thought it might have been, but it was tacky. Faded checked furniture, gauzy lace curtains, ancient hurricane lights. Kitsch, tack, and every kind of country-o-rama I could think of screamed out at me. Dated, old, backwoods, country—I wanted to throw up. And what was up with all the big stars everywhere, and all the stuff that said ‘TEXAS’ on it?
“Just needs a little paint here and there,” Dad said with relief.
I rolled my eyes. “Dad, it needs a blowtorch. Why did you buy the place furnished?” I was being serious.
“Urban style isn’t really chic in these parts. Good ol’ country folk like things at a slower pace, more simple and timeless,” he said.
“Ma and Pa Kettle. I get it, but isn’t it too much, even for you, Dad?” He looked lost in thought, his eyes scanning the house as he walked toward the staircase. “Three days ago, you had taste,” I muttered under my breath, then I heard a loud rumbling motor approach. “Shit… I mean… shoot, Dad!” I freaked.
He poked his head down from the stairway, cocking it slightly when he heard the loud rumbling come to a halt right at the door.
“Who do you think it is?” I asked, shaking.
“Probably just the neighbors,” he scoffed, heading toward the door.
“Don’t open it!” I screamed, frightening my father more than I should have.
“Oh, really, Lainey,” he said as he answered the robust knock that followed.
When he opened the door, I nearly fell over. Standing before my father at around six and a half feet, and wearing a tall, dusty, cowboy hat was one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen. He looked a little weather-worn from being outside in the sun, yet had a face chiseled by the gods. I tried not to drool.
“Howdy,” he said as he tipped his hat.
Really, we’d either fallen into the Twilight Zone or an alternate universe, because no one said “howdy”. Not in real life? Did they?
“I’m Calvin Granger. I run the ranch on the north side of your property. I saw your moving van and wanted to come over for a quick hello.” Oh, my God, he sounded like a gravel-voiced angel with a Texas drawl. I couldn’t remember a man ever having this kind of visceral effect on me. I was like a giddy little school girl with butterflies in my stomach. All I thought about was envisioning his rough, stubbled face caressing my cheek. Oh my god, and what would that stubble feel like if it grazed across my nether region, I wondered?
“Hi, I’m Hal Campbell, and this is my daughter, Lainey,” my dad responded cordially.
Don’t sound dumb—get your game face on, Lainey.
“I’m Lainey.” I rolled my eyes at myself. Idiot.
“Nice to meet you both,” the dashing Calvin Granger replied. “We’re having a BBQ tonight. It’s going to be a beautiful evening, and I thought you two might want to join us after you’ve had some time to settle in. Most of the folks from around these parts will be there. It would be nice for you to get to know some of the locals.” He seemed to be pitching us a reason to join him, as if he wasn’t the most heavenly person on the planet already.
“We’d be glad to,” my dad chimed in eagerly, almost too quickly—possibly believing he’d found the perfect reason to keep me here.
“Great! Starts around six-thirty. See you then,” Calvin said, tipping his hat again.