My One and Only(29)

“I really do,” he admitted. “But go on. My child.”

“Well, I’ve seen my sister, but she won’t listen to me. I just want her to wait a little bit. That’s all. To be sure. I don’t want her to end up like—” My voice broke off abruptly. “Like you?”

When I answered, my voice was little more than a whisper. “Yes.”

Father Bruce didn’t say anything for a minute or two. “You’re not so bad, my dear.”

“Do I seem stunted to you?”

He laughed. “Well, I’ve never thought of it exactly like that, no. Ah, shall we say ‘guarded’? I like that better.”

“See, I just think I’m a realist. I also think there really should be a law requiring some kind of premarriage boot camp. You guys do it, don’t you?”

“Pre-Cana counseling,” he confirmed.

“Because this is the whole problem. No one thinks anymore. They just assume, hey, I’m in love, everything is sunshine and roses, let’s run to Vegas or Montana or wherever and get married and we’ll deal with reality later on, and then bam, they’re in my office, heartbroken and…stunted.” I swallowed again.

“You have a point, dear,” he said patiently. “A good point. But what if your sister doesn’t get a divorce? What if they make it? Live a long and happy life together?”

“The odds are against them, Father.”

“No, dear. The odds are actually in their favor. One in three might divorce, but that means two in three don’t.”

“Have you run the stats on how many marriages last when the bride and groom have known each other for a month? I bet they’re higher than one in three.”

“I’m trying to reassure you, Harper. You don’t make it easy.”

“Oh. Thanks. Sorry.”

There was another silence. “Have you seen your ex-husband?” the good father asked. “Yep.”

“How was that?”

“Crappy, Father. Extremely crappy.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

I glanced at my watch, did the time adjustment. “You have bingo tonight, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“I’ll let you go. Thanks for listening.”

“It’s what I live for. Call me tomorrow, all right? I want to hear how you’re doing.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Have fun. Hope you win big.”

I put my phone back in my purse and sighed. Lay back on the rock, using my bag as a pillow.

It would be nice to cry, I mused. Normal people cried and they always seemed to feel better. But, as I was apparently stunted, crying wasn’t my thing. And, case in point, if I were crying now, I wouldn’t be able to see these stars. Well worth seeing, holy cow. They swirled above my head, the Milky Way in all its vast magnificence spreading out against the deep purple sky. A meteor shot across the sky and was gone, just like that.

Maybe I should move out here. Become a cook on a ranch somewhere…not that I cooked very well. Okay, well, I could…divorce people. All twenty-nine people who lived in Montana. Clearly, if I was going to run away, I’d need some life skills. Maybe I could become a cowboy. Just me and the cattle and my trusty horse, whom I would name Seabiscuit.

Running away…it had its appeal, that was certain. Times like this, I could almost understand doing it. Let the record reflect that Dennis would find another woman in a matter of hours. I had no illusions about that. He loved me, sure, but he was a guy. He might miss me, but he’d find someone else, and fast. Hard to avoid, the way women threw themselves at his head or groin or any other body part they could aim for.

As for BeverLee and Dad, they wouldn’t miss me too much. Kim would, but she’d befriend whoever moved into my house, just as she’d befriended me. Willa would call occasionally, maybe swing through on her travels like a bit of milkweed seed, cheerful and light. Father Bruce would find other souls to save. My coworkers would replace me, only mentioning me once in a while when a dusty postcard arrived from Bearcreek or Grass Range.

The sky seemed to settle around me like a giant blanket, comforting and soft and unspeakably beautiful. Somewhere—hopefully very far away—a wolf howled. The wind rustled the long grass, and the nighttime sighed with pleasure.

Dennis would be sound asleep, as once he was horizontal, he generally fell unconscious in a matter of seconds. Willa and Christopher were probably wrapped around each other, gazing with adoration into each other’s eyes. BeverLee and Dad, best not to go there.

Nick…I didn’t want to think about Nick anymore.

And what was my mother doing tonight? I wondered if she could tell when I thought of her, if there was some primal tingle that touched her heart or brain or uterus.

Probably not. After all, she’d left me the day I turned thirteen. I hadn’t heard her voice since. She wasn’t dead, that I knew. In fact, though roughly a thousand miles separated us, I was at this moment closer to her than I’d been in decades.

For whatever that was worth. But under this arching, velvety sky, my heart sore from seeing Nick, it was hard not to want my mother.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE NEXT DAY—FRIDAY—BEGAN with a females-only breakfast. The men were off fly-fishing, which would’ve made Theo happy. I had to admit, it was nice not to have to deal with Nick. I liked to have at least two cups of coffee before picking relationship scabs, after all.