Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Back in my glory days, I suppose I could have been called that. Been a while.”
I’m pleased to hear Tacker talk so effortlessly about his past life and the man he used to be, especially since I don’t detect a single note of apprehension in his tone.
I don’t want it to turn awkward in any way, though. Tacker does best with small doses of conversation.
So I pat him on the arm, then gesture slyly over to the picnic table. “I think you should go eavesdrop to see what’s going on, and I expect you to report back to me on the situation at some point.”
Chuckling, Tacker dips his head. “On it.”
I watch a moment as he saunters over to his friends… his teammates. The ones who have had his back from the start and who are now starting to see some rewards in return. I have high hopes for that man, and I try to ignore the tiny kernel of care I’m starting to feel for him.
I mean… I care for all my clients. With Tacker, though, we have a bond based on similar struggles. I’ve not connected with someone like this in an exceptionally long time.
When my stomach rumbles, I decide ribs, potato salad, and baked beans are calling my name. I plan to go out and work with them after we eat since Blue said she was taking Billy back to his group home to get some rest. He’s had a big day.
I fill my plate, grab a bottle of water from the cooler, and purposely avoid the table where the first line congregates. Tacker’s presence has pulled the others around.
Smiling, I see Raul sitting against the side of the barn, a paper plate loaded with food on his lap. I wander over to my old friend and father figure, sitting beside him.
“How are you holding up?” I ask. I had kind of hoped he was being more of a supervisor out there today, handing out orders to the young men, but knowing him, probably not.
“Fit as a fiddle,” he replies, taking a bite of cornbread.
“Can you get over that tractor?” I ask, once again giddy over such an amazing donation. “Do you know all the things we can do with that thing?”
“Goodnight, little Gator.” Raul chuckles, putting our little transport ATV to rest in his mind.
We eat in companionable silence for a little bit before Raul tips his head up, scanning all the people who are shiny with sweat, laughing and joking with each other, and enjoying the food.
“You stumbled into a new community by knowing Tacker,” he observes. “Trust me… those people out there will be friends of the ranch for life merely by what you’ve done for that man.”
“I’ve not done anything,” I demure, because my job is to merely listen and encourage. “Tacker’s done all the hard work. I’m really proud of him.”
I take a bite of potato salad. It’s so good, I shove in another. When I swallow, I offer, “I’m weirdly excited about going to the game after they get back from their road trip.”
Raul chuckles. “Hockey’s a great sport.”
I knew Raul would be excited about it. He loves all sports. When he’s not busy working his hind end off, I can usually find him in front of a TV, watching ESPN or something sports related.
“So,” he drawls hesitantly, a sure sign he’s about to change the subject. By the tone of his voice, I can tell it’s a radical change. “Tomorrow’s going to be a tough day for you. Want to get away from the ranch and go do something? Maybe a movie?”
A jab of anxiety hits me deep in my tummy, but it’s quickly washed away by the flow of love for this man who is always looking out for me. He’s been with me through nineteen birthdays, and he knows how hard they are.
Tomorrow is March 3rd. I’ll be thirty-two years old.
It’s also the anniversary of the Serb attack on my village and the twenty-year anniversary of the day I watched my grandfather, father, and brother murdered right in front of me. Twenty years since my sister was handed over to soldiers and raped while I was forced to watch even as my tears still poured from grief over the rest of my family.
I’ve never celebrated my birthday since then. Never wanted to. Helen was always understanding of my choice. Instead, we celebrated the date of my adoption finalization, which is in November. It was a way for me to have cake and presents like other normal kids.
But on March 3rd, I try to live my life as normally as possible while not avoiding the pain.
Because that’s impossible.
But as a reminder that I am quite the normal person. I have overcome much. While I’m still sad and grieve, I also flourish.