Chapter Eighteen. Winnie

CASE

Qu'est-ce que le grille-pain a dit à la tranche de pain?

I open my phone and squint at the text, huffing a quiet laugh from where I'm riding in the back seat of Camilla's pickup truck. It's been two weeks since the big List Revelation, and I'm officially on my way out of town for the first time in, well, ever. Camilla invited Maria and me to tag along on her day trip down to a ranch outside Fort Worth to check out potential horses.

It's also been two weeks since I offered to learn French with Case. Of course, I wasn't aware Case had taken four years of French in high school and apparently specialized in dirty jokes. I've downloaded Duolingo onto my phone in an effort to catch up, but it's been slow going.

Thank goodness for Google Translate.

I study the foreign words again, identifying pain, which I know is bread, and le grille-pain, which is presumably a toaster? Which makes no sense. I give up, copying the words into translate.

What did the toaster say to the loaf of bread?

After a minute, I cave.

WINNIE

I honestly have no idea, but I am sure it's salacious…

CASE

Je suis désolé. Réessayez en fran?ais, s'il vous pla?t.

That one, I know. Fucking know-it-all.

WINNIE

Je n'ai aucune idée!

CASE

Mieux.

A frustrated growl escapes my throat and catches the attention of Maria in the passenger seat. She turns around. "You okay?"

"Oui."

She snorts, turning back to the front. "It's only Case," she explains to Camilla as if I'm not there. "They decided they were going to learn French together."

Camilla arches a brow in the rearview mirror. "Really?"

"Kinda," I grumble. "Except Case sees it as an excuse to send me dirty jokes in French."

Camilla's eyes widen, and I rush to clarify. "Not like that."

"Oh, exactly like that," Maria says.

"No!" I say, sitting up straighter and ignoring the buzzing of Case's return text. "You're acting like it's flirty or something, and it's definitely not. It's annoying and purely a friend thing."

"Sure. I wish Pax paid half as much attention to me as Case Michaels spends on you. Come on, Winnie. You fascinate him."

I roll my eyes. "First of all, Pax is on you like white on rice. It's adorable how that boy follows you around. Tell me he didn't offer to oil your saddle yesterday afternoon and it wasn't even a euphemism."

"It needed it." Maria pretends to pout.

"And second of all," I continue, undeterred, "I work on his family's ranch. He helps out with Garrett and Jesse. So of course he pays attention to me. That's what friends do. Friends also recognize when their friend has a recent history of being a fuckboy and they know better than to get their boundaries crossed."

"Is that what the kids are calling it? Crossing boundaries?" Camilla says with a painted smirk.

My phone buzzes again, and I choose to ignore my present company.

CASE

(Okay, you give up?)

CASE

Je te veux en moi.

CASE

JE TE VEUX EN MOI!

Oof. That's unfortunately cute. A dirty joke about a toaster. Who knew?

WINNIE

Oh mon Dieu.

WINNIE

C'était horrible!

CASE

How's the drive going?

WINNIE

Long. Maria has commandeered the radio, and it's been nothing but Olivia Rodrigo since we left.

CASE

You know, someone once got mad at me for belittling OR.

CASE

Not that I'm hung up on it or anything.

WINNIE

OR has a place and that place is on call for when I'm mad about a boy or maybe a breakup.

CASE

So not recently…

WINNIE

A?e, merci pour ?a.

CASE

Ha.

CASE

Gardez-le juste reel.

CASE

You're just mad there's no Tim McGraw.

WINNIE

I mean. I don't think that's asking too much.

"Earth to Winnie!" I drop my phone in my lap and look up, immediately wiping the smile off my face.

"What?"

Maria's grin is all-knowing. "You hungry? We're thinking of stopping early to eat, since there's a long stretch ahead that won't have much outside of fast food."

I consider the money I have in my wallet and nod. "Sure, I could eat."

We're on our way back to Amarillo, two stunning new quarter horse stallions in tow, when my phone rings. I'm sitting in the passenger seat this time, though Maria is still in charge of music because "No one under the age of thirty listens to Shania Twain unironically, Winnie." But I've opened my window wide to let the dry, hot air blow through my hair, so I quickly move to close it and turn down the radio.

"Hey!" Maria protests. I hold up a finger, seeing a number I don't recognize.

"Hello?"

"Winnie!"

"Garrett?" My heart thuds. The warm feeling from a moment earlier is gone, and it's as though icy water has been poured over my head.

"Winnie, I'm okay," she reassures me quickly, but goddamn it, she doesn't sound okay. "It's… all right.… Don't be mad. It's okay. We're okay. But, um, Dad didn't show up after robotics practice today, and I didn't think I should stay by myself at the school…"

"Wait, why didn't the teacher stay with you?"

She sounds apologetic, and without seeing her, I know her little eyebrows are scrunching together. "I thought I saw Dad's car, and Mrs. Gunner had to pick up her own kids, so she left, but it wasn't Dad. And the school was closed since it's Saturday, so I tried to walk home…"

"What?!" I yell into the phone, my words strangling. "You walked?"

I can hear the waver in my sister's voice, and I swallow down a curse and make my voice even. "Garrett, I'm sorry. Listen, honey. I'm not mad at you. I promise. Not at all. You were stuck. I get it. So where are you now? Are you home?"

I glance at the clock on the dash. It's well past two, and Garrett was supposed to finish with her robotics club at noon.

"No." She sniffs into the phone, and I feel sick. "I'm at the Stop and Go on Fuller Street. A nice lady saw me walking and is letting me use her phone."

I clutch at my hair, pulling it taut, to keep from losing my shit. One day. I left for one fucking day.

"Okay, honey," I say. "Can you put her on the phone?"

I hear some shuffling and some garbled words and then a quick, "Hello?"

"Hi there. This is Winnie Sutton. You have my little sister there with you. I'm sorry to ask this of you, but can you wait there with her for a moment while I try to get ahold of my dad so he can pick her up? I'm so sorry about this."

"No problem, hon. My name is Jenny Carter, and this is my personal phone number, so you can call me right back at it. I'm in no hurry. I'm gonna run in real quick and get Garrett something to drink, if you don't mind. It's awfully hot out."

I swallow hard, embarrassment and inadequacy working to suffocate me.

"I'd appreciate that, ma'am. Thank you so much. I'll call you right back."

I end the call with a shaking finger and allow myself a single moment to let my head fall back as I swallow convulsively to get myself under control before scrolling to my dad's number and hitting Send.

It rings and rings, and I get nothing.

I try Jesse.

He picks up on the first ring. "Hey, Win."

"Where are you? Is Dad there?"

"I'm at home. And not yet. He must have stopped to get—"

I cut him off. "He forgot Garrett, Jesse. She's stuck at the gas station on Fuller. Sh-she tried to walk home. Alone."

My brother curses. It sounds like he throws something. "God, Winnie. I'm so sorry. I knew he was supposed to get her, but I thought maybe he took her to lunch or something. Shit," he curses again. "Want me to call the VFW?"

I rub at my temples, thinking fast. "No. Even if you reach him, I'm not sure he's in any state to drive her. I'll try finding someone with a car and call you back."

I hang up and scroll to the first name that comes to mind.

"You back already? How was it?"

Just the sound of his voice, and I nearly lose it. "Case, I need your help."

His response is instant. "Anything. What's wrong? Are you okay? Did you get in an acc—"

"I'm fine. I need you to go to the Stop and Go on Fuller and pick up Garrett, please. Right away. Can you do that? She was supposed to be picked up hours ago, and my dad—"

"Yeah." I can hear the jangle of his keys. "Yeah. Winnie. It's cool. I'm five minutes out. I'll get her and call you as soon as I have her, okay? It's going to be fine."

"Yeah. Okay. I'm gonna call the lady who's with her and let her know someone is coming."

A minute later, I end the call, and I realize Camilla has pulled over the truck and she and Maria are watching me. I look up into their concerned faces and immediately burst into rib-busting sobs.

"I t-told youuuu. I told y'all! It's not about me. I can't ever leave them because if I'm not there, shit like this happens. He doesn't take care of them. She's fucking ten years old, and she was walking home in ninety-degree weather alone. A stranger stopped her. God. What if some pedophile stopped instead of Jenny fucking Carter? What if she got hit by a car? I'm two hours away! I told her I would take care of her, and I'm not there!"

"Oh, no, Win—" Camilla starts to say, but my phone is ringing in my hand, and I answer it.

It's Case. "I got her. She's all hopped up on Dr Pepper, and she and Pax are starting a burping contest in my back seat. She's fine. Everyone is okay. Jenny Carter seems very nice, and she said to let you know Garrett was extremely polite."

I shake my head. "Thank you, Case. I don't know what I would have done—I'm so sorry to interrupt your—"

"Winnie Sutton, stop that shit right now." He lowers his voice. "I know you're beating yourself up, and this is not your fault. Understood?"

"Sure," I lie.

He sighs. "We'll revisit this when you get home. Jesse's at home?"

"Yeah. I need to call him. He's probably freaking out."

"Call him and tell him Pax and I are coming to get him. I promised Garrett some ice cream. I bet the kid could eat."

"Oh," I rush to assure him, "you can just bring her home. You don't have to—"

"Too late. Already turning down your street. No need to call Jesse. I'll send Pax in so he can scare the shit out of his little sister's boyfriend."

I can't help the strangled chuckle that slips out.

There's a smile in his voice when he says, "That's better. See you in a few hours, Winnie. Be safe, okay?"

"'Kay. Thank you."

We hang up, and I gesture for Camilla to keep going in a "nothing to see here" kind of way. Which is rude, but I'm exhausted, and all I want is for this trip to be over now.

"All worked out?" Maria asks hesitantly.

"For now. Case and Pax got her."

"Well, that's good, then. I bet she'll be excited to spend time with—"

But I lower my window again and turn up the radio. Within minutes, I'm asleep.

I sleep the whole way back to the ranch. We woke up early, and I'm feeling fuzzy from the emotional roller coaster of a day, so when Camilla waves off my offer to help her unload the horses, I don't argue. It's not until I arrive at a darkened house I realize Case still has my siblings and my dad's never even been home today. I shoot Case a text to let him know I'm in town and then grab my keys and hop right back into my car. I drive to the VFW in silence and park next to my dad's old truck. It's Saturday, so that place is hopping as much as any small-town bar can be, and I wave at the bartender, a big-bellied, nosy sort with more hair on his face than the top of his head.

"Hey, Jer. Is my dad in the back?"

"Winnie Sutton, as I live and breathe! Girl, you're all grown. Haven't seen you in an age. What can I get you?"

"Still only nineteen, Jer, and I'm not thirsty. Dad's in the back?"

He nods, and I wave before moving past several pool tables, booths, and neon signs toward the loud crowd of men surrounding the electronic dartboards. I recognize my dad, sitting with his back to me on a stool. He's got a handful of bottles on the tall tabletop in front of him, but I doubt he's drunk. My dad's not a big drinker; he just likes this place. He hides in here with these guys, slinging beers, bullshitting over darts, and reliving the glory days. I tap on my dad's broad, flannel-clad shoulder, and he spins on his stool, smile dying on his lips when he sees it's me.

"Hey, Dad. Been here all day?"

"You're back! I thought you wouldn't be back until late afternoon."

"It's six o'clock, Dad."

He sputters around the sip he'd been taking. "No kiddin'?"

My arms fold over my chest. "You forgot to pick up Garrett from camp, Dad."

He frowns, puzzled. "Was that today? Did you get her?"

"No, I didn't, as I was somewhere in the middle of Texas when a complete stranger called to say they saw your ten-year-old daughter walking home alone in the heat. I called a friend to go and get her for me. Where the hell were you?" By the end, I'm dangerously close to shrieking.

He looks around at the heads turning toward us and lowers his voice. "I was here. Like always. You knew that. You could have called me, and I would have gone and got her."

"I didn't have time to call around and hunt you down, Dad! Garrett was at a gas station with a stranger! She could have been kidnapped or run over or had heat stroke. All while you were sitting here avoiding your responsibilities!"

"Garrett's fine, though?"

"No thanks to you," I say.

My dad takes another pull from his bottle and makes to turn in his chair, his dismissal clear.

"That's it?" I ask, feeling the childish urge to stomp my foot or swing at something. "You have nothin' to say for yourself?"

He spins back around, his face older than I've seen in a long while, his tone resigned. "What would you like to hear, Winnie? I fucked up. Nothing new. I've never claimed to be father of the year."

"I don't need you to be father of the year," I insist, frustration burning in my chest. "I just need you to be a father."

"I'm doing the best I can, Winnie. Christ, you turned out okay." This time, he gets up and takes the darts from another guy, and I know we're done talking.

I spin on my heel, stomping out to my car, kicking at the gravel as I go. I end up picking up a fistful of rocks and chuck the stones one by one at my dad's tailgate. Not that it matters, dinged up and ancient POS that it is.

"Please tell me that's your dad's truck."

I pick up another handful and whip at the rusty letters that spell out CHEVY.

"I'm, like, ninety-nine percent sure it's his."

"Close enough for me." Case is standing against my car, arms folded across his chest and denim-clad legs crossed at the ankles. "Your brother thought you were probably here. Said he'd stay home with Garrett and get a frozen pizza going for you in case you were hungry."

My chest squeezes at the thought of my fourteen-year-old brother making me dinner. Frozen pizza, but still.

"Did it help?"

I make my way to Case and lean against the hood next to him. "Not as much as I'd hoped. I knew it wouldn't make a difference." I sigh. "But I'd thought it might be, I don't know, cathartic or something. Instead, it made me feel like shit."

"If it's any consolation, I think Jesse has been affected for the better these last few months. He's grown up a lot."

I shake my head, smiling sadly. "That doesn't make me feel better. He's not the one who needs to grow up. That's just perpetuating the cycle."

"Maybe so. But I also think it's okay for an almost fifteen-year-old to have some responsibilities, and he's learning that from you. He wants to help. He doesn't want you to do this on your own. And, for that matter, neither do I, nor Camilla, Pax, Maria.… We all want to help."

My fists clench impotently against my sides. "I'm so fucking sick of needing help, though. I don't want help! I want to be able to leave my house for one fucking day and know everything will still be okay while I'm gone. This right here is why I can't ever tour, Case. At least not until Jesse can drive and Garrett can stay home alone."

"But why should you always be the only one sacrificing? Why are you the one left waiting for your life to start?"

"Why should they? What makes my life more important?"

"I'm not saying that," Case says, impatient.

"I know," I say softly, pushing off the bumper and turning to face him. "I know you're not saying that, and I know you mean well. You've done so much for me, and I'm so thankful for what you did today. You didn't hesitate. I can't tell you what it means to know I could count on you with them."

"You can count on me with you, too, you know."

I shake my head again, so tired. "I can't count on anyone with me, but if I could, I'd want it to be you."

His expression is fierce, and I want to kiss him for it and say fuck-all to my boundaries. "That means something," he insists.

"Not enough," I whisper.

"Not yet, maybe," he concedes. "But I'm gonna wear you down, Winnie Sutton."

"I hope so." And I'm a little surprised to find that I mean it. For the first time in a long time, I hope so.