Page 12 of Cattle Stop
“And the real problem is the lack of sales,” Whit adds.
“Whit’s also real clear on the fact that we sell cheese at said markets.”
Whit wedges the towel back on its hook and mutters, “We.”
Drew presses the bottom of his bottle to his forehead and slumps in his chair. “I should’ve figured something like this would happen.”
Penny points a wooden spoon at him. “Drew, there’s no way to have guessed this, okay?”
“Hey.” Cooper pokes him in the chest. “Let’s cheer you up, yeah? Sadie, come over here and give Drew some love. Look on the bright side: it’s more time to work on the house, if you’re not hauling yourself to a market every week.”
“But we still have the pasture gates to finish.” Drew leans down to rub the top of Sadie’s head. Her tail thumps against the floor, and she squirms closer on her stubby legs. “And I gotta do the cheddar tomorrow, that’ll take all day.”
“No problem. I’ll do the gates,” Cooper says.
Whit pulls a long knife out of the knife block as Penny slides a handful of onions toward him. “I’m doing the gates.”
“I’ll do your half of the gates, Drew,” Cooper says.
Drew straightens a little. “You’d stay tomorrow, too?”
Oh, wait, no. That’s not what Cooper meant, because he’s gotta see his folks and then start the drive out to Oregon. But Drew’s looking at him, a hand on Sadie’s head and something too hopeful around his eyes. Cooper scratches the back of his neck and risks a glance toward Whit’s back where he’s carefully slicing the onions.
“Sure,” he says, dropping his arm as Whit turns around, before Whit can catch him fidgeting. Doesn’t matter anyway. If Mom couldn’t make dinner tonight, tomorrow’s probably no different. “Yeah, I can stay a bit longer.”
What about that job? he can nearly hear Whit ask, but he just turns back to his cutting board. Be responsible, grow up, Cooper, act like an adult, would probably follow that question.
Well, Whit can have whatever damn opinion about him that he wants because Drew grins. Really, actually smiles and starts scratching Sadie’s ears. “Cool,” he says.
“Cool,” Cooper echoes.
“Cool, now come help chop,” Penny says.
“I thought it was your night to make dinner,” Cooper says.
“It is, but as established by farm rule thirteen point six, section A, those who work on fences also chop all the veggies. I’ve already taught Whit how to make a mean mixed drink, so I know he’s good for helping. M’keeping my eye on you, Coop.” She tips her beer up, swallowing as she starts rooting through the kitchen cupboards. “Besides, it’s gonna take me all evening to find the cards.”
Whit stops with his knife halfway through an onion. “No.”
“Yes.” Penny takes another drink. “It’s a fine night for a bridge game, I do believe.”
“It’s my day off,” Whit says.
“So sorry, but how often does Cooper visit us?” Penny closes the drawer and opens another one, shifting through the years of detritus within. “Though we’ll go easy on you, Whit. You two don’t have to be partners.”
“Of course, it is more fun when they are,” Drew says.
Penny holds her bottle up in a toast toward him. “Oh, hell yeah, it is.”
I won’t be down until late tomorrow, Cooper texts Terry as Penny drops a bowl of potatoes in front of him. Think Mom’ll be around then?
I’ll try to make sure she’s free. Does this mean the rodents are winning? Terry sends back, and Cooper snorts a soft laugh, tucking his phone in his pocket and trying to ignore the half step away Whit takes as Cooper starts chopping beside him.
Later, the glow of a hockey game on TV fills the living room, shining on the litter of cards and empty bottles. Drew, slumped in the corner of the couch, doesn’t even stir when the stairs creak. Whit, it must be, because Penny’s footsteps were much lighter when she finally hauled herself up to bed. And yep, that’s him, probably coming downstairs for something wholesome and boring before he falls asleep, like a cup of warm milk. Cooper nudges the beer bottle out of Drew’s loose grip.
“Go to bed, you old man,” Cooper says, tucked deep into his sweatshirt and yawning into his own shoulder.
“M’awake.”
