his hand flat on the wooden table. “Yes. It’s weird.”
“Bennett,” she said, resolute. “I’ll call him Bennett then. Because it’s weird for me too. Anyway, he said that you were going to hang out here today.”
“Because he thinks I need a babysitter,” Dallas said. “Which is ridiculous. I’ve spent days by myself. I think I actually spent a week alone in my house when I was about seven.”
He said the words flippantly, speaking of his neglect as if it were something as routine as going back-to-school shopping. But Kaylee wasn’t fooled. Mostly because she knew how deeply that sort of thing touched you. Knew how it felt when your parents barely bothered to look your direction.
“But you’re not alone now,” Kaylee said.
“But it wouldn’t matter if I was.”
“I think it would,” she said. “And not just because you don’t have the resources to take care of yourself. But because we are made to need people.”
“I’ve never had the time to sit around whining about whether or not I needed someone to survive.”
She looked down, picking at her fingernails. “Whether or not you believe it, I actually understand a little bit. I never got taken from my parents and I was never in foster care, but I understand. Once I moved here, though, I had school. Friends. Bennett is one of them. We’ve been friends for years. His family...your family, they’re good people. They supported me. Invited me to backyard barbecues on the Fourth of July, made me feel like I was part of something. And that was when I really understood what was missing from my life growing up. My parents drink. And they fight. And in general don’t have a lot of time for me.”
Her mother had told her once, in a drunken rage, that Kaylee was a Band-Aid that hadn’t fixed a damn thing. That they’d had a baby to try to fix everything. To make life better. But she’d only made things harder. Worse.
She looked down. “I had to get up and get myself ready for school.” This was one of those things she never talked about. One of those struggles she liked to leave behind the closed front door of her family home, every morning when she left for school. “Nobody was going to do it for me. If I relied on my mother or father to wake me up I would never have made it on time. I used to walk. I’d leave forty-five minutes early so that I could walk to school and get there on time. Anyway. I have a feeling that’s something you understand. Having to depend on yourself. But let me tell you, things got better when I let other people be there for me.”
“I’m not letting anyone do anything. I’m a minor. Which means adults interfere when the law says they have to, and for most of my life I’ve been on my own. Age has never meant a damn thing as far as my mom is concerned. Like I said, she just left me alone sometimes. I had to learn to take care of myself. To survive. And then, because some government agency suddenly notices, I have to go from house to house, listening to new bullshit rules everywhere I go. I had stuff worked out. Now, I had to leave Portland to come live here because this is where my sperm donor is?”
“That’s what I’m saying. You’re going to have to let people be there for you. Because you have a routine. Because you do know how to survive. You’re going to have to figure out what else there is. Past survival. That I know something about.”
“What about...” Dallas seemed to struggle for a moment. “Bennett. His family is good?”
“They are. They’re the best. Bennett’s mother died before I ever met him, but she sounds like she was wonderful. And his dad... Quinn. Quinn is your grandpa. He’s the best man I’ve ever known. He’s strong, and he raised four kids on his own. Not only that, he supported kids that weren’t his responsibility at all. You’ll meet Luke Hollister too. He came to work at the ranch when he was a teenager, and Quinn made him part of the family. Just like he did me. Included me in everything. Bennett’s friendship has been a huge part of my life, and Quinn’s support is probably the reason that I ended up trying for scholarships and going to college. Believe me. All this stuff that you think you don’t need, that you’ve convinced yourself you don’t need... Maybe you don’t need it. But it could give you a whole different life than you ever thought you could have.”
Dallas’s expression was carefully blank. “So, did you just come in here to lecture me on how everything is going to be rainbows and puppy dogs from now on?”
“No. I came in to tell you that you’re going to be cleaning some puppy dog cages, though,” Kaylee said, making that decision on the fly. “I don’t have very many dogs in residence at the moment, but they’re going to need their cages cleaned, and Rufus the mutt is probably going to need to be walked. He’s going to be able to go home later today—he just had a minor surgery, so he’s moving a little bit slow, but some exercise would do him good.”
“I don’t like animals,” Dallas said.
“Why?”
“They’re pointless.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Animals are important. Even if you don’t like them as pets, don’t tell me you’ve never eaten a steak. In which case, you definitely appreciate animals in one way at least.”
“I don’t understand pets,” he said.
“There’s nothing to understand. They keep you company. They love you. You love them.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Well, you can ponder the merit of dogs while you clean cages.”
“And if I don’t?”
Kaylee shrugged. “I can’t make you. I mean, I can turn the Wi-Fi off, but I can’t make you. And I’m not going to. But here’s the thing. I asked you to, Dallas. I think that should mean something. Because someday you might ask me for something, and you’re going to want me to do it, and I will. That’s community. That’s friendship. That’s depending on people.”
“You’re really not my... Bennett’s girlfriend?”
“Really not,” she said, ignoring the slight tug at the center of her chest. “So, I have no special influence over him. I’m never going to be your stepmother. I’m really just someone who wants to get to know you. And wants to help you figure life out. And someone who doesn’t want to clean up dog poop this morning.”
Dallas stood up, the expression on his face strange. As if he couldn’t really understand why he was doing it. “Okay. Show me where the stupid dogs are.”
“I don’t have any stupid dogs,” she said, schooling her expression into one of total seriousness.
“Really?”
“They’re good dogs, Dallas.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you want me to clean up the dog poop or not?”
“I definitely do. Follow me.”
As they walked out of the break room, Kaylee smiled to herself. Maybe she was a secret teenager whisperer, or something. She didn’t have any experience with kids, so she hadn’t really expected to find a connection with him.
But she was glad to know that she had.
Dallas mattered to Bennett. And that meant he mattered to her too.
She would do anything for Bennett.
She tried to ignore that thought as it tumbled around inside of her brain, repeating itself throughout the day.
It would be better if she wouldn’t do anything for Bennett. She just needed to break the cycle.
Too bad there was a wrench thrown into her gears.
She looked over at Dallas, who was doing his best to wrangle Rufus. Yes. There was most definitely a wrench. But it remained to be seen what effect that was going to have.
Конец