a job. Dealing with her mom
right now seemed to fit her mood. She half-listened to Irene talk about her
latest social event, thanked her for calling to wish her a happy birthday, and
she’d let her know when she got the package from Kentucky. Knowing her mom, it
was another girlie blouse that she’d never wear. Good thing they usually fit
Janice or Anna.
The conversation ended and Meg hung up, grateful that
at least this time, her mom didn’t ask her if she’d met any nice young men. She
sighed, frustrated and more than a little hurt that Gina had just up and left, after
she’d made a show yesterday of telling her she’d see her at her birthday
gathering. She sat brooding, staring at the wall.
“Hey, hon,” Stan said as he came in. “Can you make
some calls for me today?”
“Sure.” She managed a weak smile.
“Just the usual courtesy stuff for guests coming in
next week. Here’s the list.” He handed a piece of paper to her. “Oh—” he
started, but Troy stuck his head in.
“Hey, Stan. Alice needs your okay on a few things, as
soon as you can. It’s about dinner.”
“Okay.” He looked over his shoulder at Meg as he left
and gave her a grin as followed Troy.
She sighed again and looked at the list. It’d take a
while to get through it. She reached for the phone, and decided to ignore the
blinking number one on the answering machine. She’d check it later if she
remembered.
After she finished the phone calls, she went to help
Mark and a couple other hands get the horses squared away for the evening upon
their return from an afternoon trail ride. By dinner, she was almost resigned
to Gina’s absence, though it stung, which pissed her off. It was her own fault,
after all, for thinking there was something beyond just chatting in their
interactions. It was her own fault for hoping. Who the hell cared, anyway? It
was a fun crush while it lasted, and now it was time to let it go. There’d be
plenty more of those in the future.
But it still hurt.
And she still couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Screw it, she decided. This is why they call them
crushes, after all. Because they do hurt. And here it was, her birthday. Well, she’d enjoy it. Alice’s awesome
cake, and then a couple of beers in town would take some of the sting out of
the day. She went to the dining room, determined to enjoy herself.
M eg finished her first beer and before
she could even throw the bottle away, Tim handed her a fresh one. “Happy
birthday!” he yelled as Laura dragged him to the dance floor. She raised the
bottle at him and grinned. The growing crowd at River Rest jostled her senses
along with the smells of cigarette smoke and greasy Mexican food. She smiled.
Who knew a couple from Chicago enjoyed two-stepping?
She danced the next one with Mark, one with Floyd,
and then two more with Jackson. Her friends at school joked with her that she
was “bi-danceual.” Meg could lead or follow, depending on the partner. As the
last notes sounded on the Tim McGraw song, she thanked Jackson and headed for
the tables the Diamond Rock crowd had co-opted. She liked dancing, especially
leading, though the non-ranch people at the bar probably wouldn’t appreciate
that.
For the hundredth time, she wondered what it would
feel like to work Gina around the floor. And for the hundredth time, she shut
the thought down. She plopped down into an empty chair. Davey sat nearby
chatting up a local woman. He had so many asshole points on him at the moment
that she debated telling the local that rumor had it that he had a girlfriend
stashed in Laramie. Then again, the local might not care. She took another sip of her beer, which
was on its way to warm.
She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she might consider
another beer. She’d driven, but she could always get a ride home with someone
else. Besides, her dad had already gone home and she wouldn’t feel embarrassed
if she got a little buzz on. Or more. And it might help kick the
right now seemed to fit her mood. She half-listened to Irene talk about her
latest social event, thanked her for calling to wish her a happy birthday, and
she’d let her know when she got the package from Kentucky. Knowing her mom, it
was another girlie blouse that she’d never wear. Good thing they usually fit
Janice or Anna.
The conversation ended and Meg hung up, grateful that
at least this time, her mom didn’t ask her if she’d met any nice young men. She
sighed, frustrated and more than a little hurt that Gina had just up and left, after
she’d made a show yesterday of telling her she’d see her at her birthday
gathering. She sat brooding, staring at the wall.
“Hey, hon,” Stan said as he came in. “Can you make
some calls for me today?”
“Sure.” She managed a weak smile.
“Just the usual courtesy stuff for guests coming in
next week. Here’s the list.” He handed a piece of paper to her. “Oh—” he
started, but Troy stuck his head in.
“Hey, Stan. Alice needs your okay on a few things, as
soon as you can. It’s about dinner.”
“Okay.” He looked over his shoulder at Meg as he left
and gave her a grin as followed Troy.
She sighed again and looked at the list. It’d take a
while to get through it. She reached for the phone, and decided to ignore the
blinking number one on the answering machine. She’d check it later if she
remembered.
After she finished the phone calls, she went to help
Mark and a couple other hands get the horses squared away for the evening upon
their return from an afternoon trail ride. By dinner, she was almost resigned
to Gina’s absence, though it stung, which pissed her off. It was her own fault,
after all, for thinking there was something beyond just chatting in their
interactions. It was her own fault for hoping. Who the hell cared, anyway? It
was a fun crush while it lasted, and now it was time to let it go. There’d be
plenty more of those in the future.
But it still hurt.
And she still couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Screw it, she decided. This is why they call them
crushes, after all. Because they do hurt. And here it was, her birthday. Well, she’d enjoy it. Alice’s awesome
cake, and then a couple of beers in town would take some of the sting out of
the day. She went to the dining room, determined to enjoy herself.
M eg finished her first beer and before
she could even throw the bottle away, Tim handed her a fresh one. “Happy
birthday!” he yelled as Laura dragged him to the dance floor. She raised the
bottle at him and grinned. The growing crowd at River Rest jostled her senses
along with the smells of cigarette smoke and greasy Mexican food. She smiled.
Who knew a couple from Chicago enjoyed two-stepping?
She danced the next one with Mark, one with Floyd,
and then two more with Jackson. Her friends at school joked with her that she
was “bi-danceual.” Meg could lead or follow, depending on the partner. As the
last notes sounded on the Tim McGraw song, she thanked Jackson and headed for
the tables the Diamond Rock crowd had co-opted. She liked dancing, especially
leading, though the non-ranch people at the bar probably wouldn’t appreciate
that.
For the hundredth time, she wondered what it would
feel like to work Gina around the floor. And for the hundredth time, she shut
the thought down. She plopped down into an empty chair. Davey sat nearby
chatting up a local woman. He had so many asshole points on him at the moment
that she debated telling the local that rumor had it that he had a girlfriend
stashed in Laramie. Then again, the local might not care. She took another sip of her beer, which
was on its way to warm.
She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she might consider
another beer. She’d driven, but she could always get a ride home with someone
else. Besides, her dad had already gone home and she wouldn’t feel embarrassed
if she got a little buzz on. Or more. And it might help kick the
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