She sighed like he was being difficult on purpose. “Well, can you come meet us?”
He looked over his shoulder, his mother’s hope so bright. “Can my parents come?”
“I—why would they want to?”
“Because,” Trey said, his voice taking on a sharp quality. Sometimes Beth could be infuriating, and he felt like she was arguing with him right now simply because she could. She’d done that way back over the summer when he’d first started bringing TJ back to Dixon Dreams on a more regular basis.
“They love your son,” he said. “They want to be part of our lives.” He ducked his head. “You know, Beth, we spend a lot of time with your family, and you haven’t said two words to my mother since she planned and executed the dinner at our wedding.”
She pulled in a breath, and Trey hated that he’d been the cause of the sting he knew was now spiraling through her chest.
“I’m going to tell them they can come,” Trey said when she remained silent. “It’s dinner at a restaurant, Beth. They’re perfectly capable of speaking to people like adults. It’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” she clipped out. “How much longer should I tell everyone you’ll be?”
“To The Bluebell? Probably thirty minutes. We’re at the zoo.”
“I heard you the first time,” she said, another sigh accompanying her statement. “I wish you would’ve answered the first time.”
“I didn’t get any calls,” he said. “There must be a dead zone in the zoo somewhere.”
“Mm hm,” she said as if she didn’t believe him.
He needed to get off the phone before he said something he’d regret later. “I’ll see you soon.” He hung up before she could say anything else, and he turned back to his parents. “We need to get to The Bluebell. I apparently forgot about Beth’s brother’s birthday.” He scooped TJ into his arms. “Come on, bud. We need to hurry.”
“Oh, okay,” his mother said. “I understand.”
“You’re invited,” Trey said, smiling at her. “The Bluebell is good, right?”
“I love The Bluebell,” Daddy said. “They have this open-faced brisket sandwich that they put all these caramelized onions over, with tons of gravy.” He smacked his lips so loudly that Trey laughed.
“Great,” he said. “We’ll meet you there?”
His father didn’t walk particularly fast, and Trey needed to get to the restaurant quickly.
“Sure,” Mom said, and Trey leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“Great. See you there.” He started walking much faster, swinging TJ up onto his shoulders. “Come on, bud. Your momma’s not happy with us.”
“Because we’re late,” TJ said, not asking. “She don’t like it when we’re late.”
“Doesn’t,” Trey said automatically doing something Beth often did. “It’s doesn’t, Teej. Shedoesn’tlike it when we’re late.”
“She doesn’t like it when we’re late,” he said correctly, and Trey thought the boy was speaking the honest truth.
* * *
“I’m just saying,”Trey said much later that night. “We don’t talk about stuff anymore.”
“Yes, we do,” Beth argued. “We just got the dates wrong this one time.”
“It’s more than that,” Trey said, sighing. He sat in the recliner in her bedroom, and she was propped up in bed. He should’ve just laid down and taken an hour-long catnap before he had to head over to the ranch for Lady’s training. He’d been able to schedule some practice time during the daylight hours, but the horse focused better at night, and Rob was willing to come at their usual time.
Trey saw no reason to rock that boat. Horses could be fickle and unpredictable, and with only a few more real races in Lady’s future before the actual event, he needed to keep her as focused and stable as possible.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we haven’t talked about what I’ll do after the race. We haven’t renamed this place. We haven’t talked about having more kids. Heck, I don’t even sleep in here but a quarter of the time.” Even when he did, there hadonlybeen sleeping happening in here.