Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
And it wasn’t over yet.
Paul had taken my keys and left halfway through because Ava hadn’t been feeling well and needed to rest. On his way out, he’d reminded me that I’d just triple-booked myself for Friday morning, which meant someone was gonna have to call General Partridge to reschedule, unless I could convince Mal that being Second Licker was a real thing… I didn’t even want to imagine what that would look like.
Mal had already left by that point—I’d watched Mr. Ivey walk him out with an arm over his shoulder, not that I’d been subconsciously aware of him all morning or whatever. I’d only noticed because my own dad had called around the same time, probably to make sure I wasn’t blowing up his town while he was sitting on the sofa watching television and buying commemorative silver coins.
“I’ve got things under control, Dad,” I’d soothed.
“But the week of the Lickin’ is always a mess. People say they’re fine with the way I’ve organized shit, but when it comes time to execute, they wanna reinvent the wheel. Don’t let ’em take advantage, Brooks. Not even your mama,” he’d added in a whisper.
“Oh yeah, no, that hasn’t been a problem at all.” Was there a word that meant something worse and more egregious than lying? Because that was what I was doing. “Maybe folks are feeling merciful since they know you’re recovering and I haven’t been back in a while.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,” I’d enthused. “I’ve got this. Remember, Head Licking is in my blood!”
I’d immediately looked around to make sure no one had heard me.
Bert Cobb had instructed me to meet him at Ava’s family farm to make my first milk pickup of the afternoon, but when I stepped into the big, circular milking parlor at one o’clock sharp, there was no one there, human or animal. When I thought about it for a minute, this made sense. The milking parlor was designed to milk a whole herd efficiently, but no dairy farmer was milking his entire herd at midafternoon. Not when milking usually occurred every twelve hours.
Maybe I’d gotten the time wrong?
“Hello?” I called, but there was no answer. I stepped outside and called louder, but there didn’t seem to be a soul around.
I was ready to go up to the house to check on Ava—and yeah, fine, see Mal—when I heard a crash in one of the little, old-fashioned lean-tos near the tractor garage, followed by a cow’s mournful bellow.
“Mr. Ivey? That you?” I called, trying to moderate my voice so as not to startle any people or bovines.
There was still no answer, so I headed back there to investigate, taking care where I stepped since the ground was about 80 percent straw and mud, and 20 percent something that looked like mud but wasn’t. I rounded the side of the lean-to and froze in place.
“Annabelle, I thought we were friends. I thought we’d established a real connection,” Mal said. He blew out a breath and brushed the golden-brown hair out of his eyes with the back of one hand, while picking up a five-gallon bucket lying on its side in a milk puddle with the other. He sat back down on his stool and awkwardly patted the cow’s flank while she rolled her eyes and shied away. “Alright, fine, maybe not friends, per se, but friendly. I just washed your teats for half a fucking hour, didn’t I? And all I’m asking is for you to be still and let me finish you off so I can go back to the death futon in the tree house and cry my self-loathing into a rapidly diminishing supply of Dove chocolates while the spiders in the rafters make plans to eat my flesh. Okay?”
I leaned against the doorframe and whistled low, feeling lighter than I had in hours. “A plus plus. Your seduction technique is on point.”
Mal shut his eyes, leaned his head back to the ceiling, and shook his head. “Of course you walked in right now,” he moaned softly. “Of course you did.”
“No, no, don’t be embarrassed. This is highly educational. I don’t have a lot of experience with females, you understand. So, first you get ’em all excited with the teat-washing—”
“I hate you.”
“—then you bring it on home with the tears and the chocolate.”
“Did you want something here?” Mal demanded.
I definitely wanted something here. But nothing I could have.
“I thought you said you’d seen a cow before,” I said instead.
“Seen, yes. Milked, hell no. But apparently, this is some archaic test a man has to pass in order to date an Ivey woman, according to Ava’s father. Like, if we’re ever on a deserted island, just me, Ava, and a milk cow, I’ll be able to provide for her?” He threw his hands in the air in frustration, and Annabelle side-eyed him. “Did you know her father has seventy-five head of cattle? Jesus Christ, how does he find time to do anything else all day?”