8. Kess

8

KESS

Stevie held out the hoe that Rowdy had abandoned. “Maybe you can plant the rest of the lantana and I’ll take care of the lavender and sage.”

I took the hoe from her hands and nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. I’m happy with what we’ve done up front, so now let’s continue it along the side of the house so that we have a nice path to the pool.”

“Okay, Uncle Kess.”

We worked in silence while I continued mentally kicking my own ass for setting off Rowdy. There was no way in hell I’d have ever guessed that he eventually wanted kids. Hell, he’d made being single and footloose his entire personality.

By the time Stevie and I made it to the back of the house, my lower back was in full protest, my feet were on fire, and I still felt like shit about Rowdy’s reaction. Stevie and I got some water, and she finally broke the silence as we walked the tools back to the garage.

“People don’t realize that Rowdy is a lot more sensitive than he likes to let on,” she said quietly.

I sighed.

“You’re right, Stevie-girl. I probably need to apologize to him.”

She grimaced. “I dunno, Uncle Kess. I think apologies make him feel squirrelly.”

“Why do you think that is?” I asked the thirteen-year-old, because I clearly had no idea.

As only a teenager could do, Stevie fixed me with an expression that told me exactly how stupid I was being.

“What?”

“He had it really rough when he was a kid,” she said, her attitude suddenly somber. “And Papa once told me that if you get raised to think you’re nothing, when someone gives you attention, it can feel bad. Worse, if someone does something bad to you, it can feel like you deserved it, even sub...sub...What’s that word that means that you think it, but you don’t know you’re thinking it?”

“Subconsciously,” I answered as her words landed.

“That’s the one.”

“So, if I apologize to him, and he subconsciously still thinks he should be treated badly, he might not know how to take it.”

“Exactly. He’s like Huck. Just yesterday I tried to give that damn horse scratches on his ears, the way I know he likes it, and that butthead almost bit me.”

“He did? Are you okay?” I asked, giving her a once-over.

“I’m fine, Uncle Kess,” she said with an annoyed huff. “I’m just saying that Huck bites because affection hurts. Rowdy acts like he doesn’t need anyone because when he really did need someone, when he was a kid, all they did was hurt him. It’s the same with Papa. He was so mean to Dad at the beginning, and he was just biting at the first sign of affection.”

Emery said that he was frequently astounded at the words that came out of Stevie’s mouth. I was beginning to see why.

“Yeah, but I think I actually hurt Rowdy’s feelings. So, he’s not biting at affection. He’s biting at hurt.”

Hurt that he’s not one hundred percent sure he doesn’t deserve.

We both went quiet for a moment.

“You ever burn your hand on the stove, Uncle Kess?”

“Of course. Everybody has.”

“And you remember how, after, like, a terrible burn, the next time you touched the stove you felt real squirrelly about it?”

Stevie had, with perfect accuracy, described the recoil anyone who’d been hurt by life would feel in an emotionally vulnerable situation. The kind of situation I’d avoided my entire adult life.

“So you’re saying it might take a while for him to see that I never want to burn him. Especially while he’s figuring out he never deserved to be burned in the first place.”

“Something like that,” she said, hitting the code for the garage door. “Besides, I don’t care what he says. I think it upset him when you went out on those dates.”

“How would he know I went out on dates?”

“He’s got eyes, Uncle Kess. He can see you leaving, looking all nice. And...” She sent me a guilty look. “Papa probably said something.”

Woody liked to act like a badass, but he was really the world’s biggest gossip. Unless the guilty look meant that she’d been the one to say something.

Instead of calling her out, I asked, “And why do you think that upset him?”

This look was even worse than the first. “You know he has a crush on you, Uncle Kess.”

“I don’t know anything, sweet girl. You can’t assume what someone hasn’t told you. And if Rowdy is upset at me going out on dates, especially when he goes out on dates all the time, well, that doesn’t make any sense.”

She laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“You’re jealous,” she said, poking my arm.

“Am not,” I said, lying my ass off as I gently hip-checked her. “But I will admit that there’s probably more to Uncle Rowdy than I originally thought. And that I need to be a little more sensitive around him.”

She shoved her hands into her pockets, a thoughtful look on her face. “Do you really think he went to go help a friend?”

She wanted to know if her uncle had lied to her, and it was weird knowing that I wasn’t the only one wondering what the truth was. Still, I knew I could reassure her on this point.

“Rowdy likes to brag about his dates, and he was mad at me, so I’m absolutely certain he would’ve said if he was going out on a date.”

She raised her brow, a too-sharp grin on her face. “ Exactly .”

“Exactly what?” I narrowed my eyes. “And why does this feel like entrapment?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s a legal term that means you set someone up to break the law so that you can catch them breaking the law.”

She tapped her chin. “Then I definitely entrapmented you because Uncle Rowdy knew that if he said he was going on a date, it would bother you.”

“So?”

She let out an impatient breath. “I’ve talked this through with my friend Angela, and we’ve wondered if maybe you two are just too ignorant to see what’s in front of you.” She tsked . “I’ll have to tell her we were right. Boys are hopeless.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. I’d been judged and found wanting by teenagers . “You know nothing,” I said, and she laughed. Right in my face.

“Just because I’m a teenager doesn’t mean I can’t see things,” she said, walking over to Gertie.

She swung up on her horse like she’d been doing it all her life, then stared down at me. “Here’s hoping you and Uncle Rowdy figure it out one of these days. Honestly, the two of you are ridiculous.”

With that, she rode off, leaving me to stand there in her dust. I was pretty sure I just got told off by a thirteen-year-old, who, humiliatingly, may have had a better handle on my love life than I ever did. That was both embarrassing and sobering.

Was it wrong that I hoped she was right?