Mostly, since he did it himself, he ignored Grandma Miriam bossing me.

This, he didn’t ignore.

“She’s not cuttin’ her hair. Ever,re. Gray declared and Grandma Miriam looked to him and even though she’d known him since birth, she clearly misjudged his tone and the look in his eyes because she kept right on talking.

“She has a beautiful head of hair, Gray, but you’re a man. You don’t know anything about these things. A shorter style will become the shape of her face.”

“She’s not cuttin’ her hair. Ever,” Gray repeated and there was even more steel in it this time.

“Gray!” Grandma Miriam snapped. “It’s not for you to say. It isn’t your hair.”

“Yeah, it is. You know how it is and even if you wanted to pretend you didn’t, you don’t want me to explain how it is. What I will explain is that it’s… not…  yours,” Gray returned.

Grandma Miriam snapped her mouth shut and her cheeks got pink even as her blue eyes flashed and I quickly excused myself, rushed from the table and ran to the bathroom where I burst out laughing.

I think they heard me.

I didn’t care.

What could I say? They were funny.

Later, after Gray and I made out in his truck before I went to my room, I promised him I’d only ever cut my hair to get a trim.

This got me another hard kiss then, against my lips, a soft, sweet, gentle, “Thanks, dollface.”

And I made my promise honestly but at Gray’s soft, sweet, gentle gratitude, it became a vow.

* * *

Being a waitress in a bar in a small town I quickly discovered that we had regulars and if they sensed you were turning local, they sucked you in. They did this by sharing their lives with you, showing you pictures of their kids, telling you what movie they recently saw and that you had to see it. They also did it by advising you about the restaurant a town over that had an unfortunate result to a recent health inspection and writing down a recipe that took four different napkins that you had to try.

Stuff like that.

Stuff I liked.

Though it had to be said that I might have been getting the hang of hamburger meat, a recipe that took four napkins was currently beyond my capabilities. Still, I kept it.

I also met Gray’s two best friends. Shim, a tall, gangly, sandy-haired man who was a hand on Jeb Sharp’s ranch and was engaged to Chastity, a seriously petite and curvy blonde who looked cute with him regardless of the fact he was eight inches taller than her. And Ronan, called Roan, who was about two inches taller than me, worked with Janie’s man Danny at some local place that processed gravel (who ever heard of such a thing, processing gravel? Still, from the way they explained it, that was what they did). Roan seemed dedicated to the task of expanding his beer gut, had no girlfriend and had a fondness for telling long-winded jokes that were hilarious. And he had a million of them.

They started to become regulars at The Rambler and I liked it because they obviously liked me and I obviously liked that.

Unfortunately, working at one of the town’s two bars meant that Buddy Sharp, his sidekicks Jim, Ted and Pete and Gray’s exes, specifically Cecily, came in every once in awhile. Just as Shim, Chastity and Roan made it clear they liked me, Buddy, Jim, Ted, Pete and Cecily made it clear they did not.

I didn’t let this bother me because, fortunately, even though they didn’t like me and didn’t mind me knowing it, that didn’t mean they didn’t tip.

* * *

Twice (before last night), Gray braved the wrath of Grandma Miriam as backed by God and His Word the Bible and he arranged for his cousin, Audie, to spend the night at his house to look after Grandma Miriam so he could stay with me.

I doubted this went down too well. What I knew was, however it went down, Gray and Grandma Miriam kept it between them because when I went over to his house after, she bossed me but she didn’t say anything about it.  Nor did she give me any indication she was angry or disappointed in Gray or me.

I figured this was because Gray laid down the law that he was a man, I was his girl, his private life was his private life and, even though he lived with his grandmother, that was the way it was going to be. I also figured part of Gray’s law was that she didn’t bypass him with her aversion to our modern relationship and pass it onto me.

So she kept mum on the subject and Gray did what he pleased.

And luckily, what he pleased meant I had him all night in my bed with me.

And I liked that.

* * *

So having a job, a place, a boyfriend and a routine wasn’t boring.

But it was beautiful.

Until last night and it wasn’t Bud Sharp or Cecily or Mustang making my life not what I wanted it to be.

It was Casey.

And, after last night, I hated to admit it because I owed him everything. But for a long time, making my life be nothing I wanted it to be had been all Casey.

* * *

It was quarter to eight, fifteen minutes before Gray was due in but also after the dinner rush. Folks ate early in Mustang, the dinner rush starting at five and ending at seven. Then things got quiet and it was just Janie and me and a few regulars until, on weeknights, around nine thirty, ten, Janie saw things pick up but not so much she couldn’t handle it on her own. On the weekends, it was a different story but she had another girl who worked part time to help her out with that.

I was days. Or days until eight which was mostly days and evenings.

So it was quiet, me on the outside of the bar and Janie on the inside, shooting the breeze and there were only four other people in the bar.

I was winding down from work but winding up to see Gray. We’d been together a month but I was right. I wasn’t used to him or his beauty. I looked forward to it all day. I started getting excited about it when it got close then felt the splendor of it when he finally walked through the door.

And this escalated after our relationship became physical.

Since she didn’t mind sharing personal stuff with me, I tested the waters and I told Janie about it. When I did, she told me having an orgasm your first time was so unusual, it was exceptional.

“Though,” she went on quietly, “not surprised that a man like Gray gave that to you. What I will say is that I sure am glad you gave a man like Gray what you had to give him.”

It must be said I really, really liked Janie.

The first time being great, it kept getting better. Gray told me his father taught him patience and I learned that to be true. I didn’t know who taught him gentleness but that was true too, out of bed as well as in it. Nudity, touching, tasting, sharing, kissing, holding and making love was safe with Gray. I didn’t feel self-conscious, not ever. He communicated, not with words most of the time, with his eyes, his hands, his mouth. He guided. He taught. He listened. He paid attention. He discovered what I liked (and we both enjoyed it, me more, obviously) and he showed me what he liked (and we both enjoyed it, him more, hopefully).

And it just kept getting better and better.

Janie told me that, too, was unusual.

So I looked forward to Gray, to talking to him, to being with him then cuddling with him and finally being with him.

And I looked forward to it a lot.

So I was in a good mood, in a good place, fifteen minutes away from Gray and unprepared for Casey to storm into the bar.

But even if he’d come in at high noon and I had hours to wait for Gray I would have been unprepared. Because even though Gray met him at the diner like he said and gave him five hundred dollars of his own money (something we had quiet words about and he refused to allow me to do it, I didn’t like it but it clearly meant something to him so I let him), I hadn’t seen Casey since that day at Gray’s.

And also because I was not then nor ever would be prepared for what Casey would do and say to me.

It went like this.

He walked right up to me, manner hurried, things on his mind, places to be. I knew him well so I knew that.

I just didn’t know what was on his mind, where he wanted to be and I would never have guessed he would take for granted wherever that place was, it would be with me.

When he made it to me, he said, “Come on, Ivey, let’s go.”

I stared at him and asked, “Where?”

“It’s fuckin’ cold up here. Tired of cold. I’m thinkin’ southern California, San Diego or maybe Tucson.”

San Diego or Tucson?

“What are you talking about?” I asked, so caught in my new life, what he was saying didn’t dawn on me.

He focused more on my face. “Next stop. San Diego. Tucson. Maybe Phoenix. Pack your shit. We’re on the road tonight.”

Was he crazy?

“Casey,” I said softly, “I’m not going to San Diego or Tucson. I’ve got a job. An apartment. I’m not going anywhere.”

That was when he really focused on me.

Then he declared, “Yeah you are. You’re comin’ with me.”

It hit me belatedly that his relationship with the mystery Mustang woman had crashed and burned.

“Oh Casey,” I whispered, moving to him, “did you break up with your girl?”

He jerked up his chin, eyes hard, hiding emotion he didn’t want anyone to see but I knew him. He couldn’t hide from me.

“Bitch ousted me. Just like that. Said pack your bags, out tonight. So I packed my bags, I’m out, we’re on the road and this shithole is in our dust.”

I studied him and I saw he wasn’t lying when he talked about her after they met. He liked her. And he was hurt.

“If you guys have had a fight, maybe you should give her a night to cool down. Go see her tomorrow. Talk it out,” I advised.

“Ivey,” he snapped, “you’re not listenin’ to me. We’re gone.”

“Honey, seriously, give her the night.”

“Yeah, give her the night,” he hissed sarcastically then went on in the same vein. “You gonna let me crash on your couch? Oh, I know, your friendly cowboy’ll let me crash at his pad.”

This meant he didn’t have any money.

“Yes, for the night, Casey, I’ll let you crash on my couch,” I offered cautiously at the same time trying to figure out how I’d convince Gray that was an okay idea.

“Fuck that,” he returned. “We’re goin’.”

“Casey, honey, I’m not going and if she means something to you, you shouldn’t either. You should give it a shot, work it out.”

“Relationship advice from my fuckin’ sister,” he muttered.

“Well, yeah, Casey. I know you. I love you. And you’re obviously hurt so I’m looking out for you and advising you should try to work it out.”

He leaned in, his face twisting and spat, “I’m not hurt. Bitch wanted to tie me down. Yammerin’ on every night, ‘Casey, you go to the plant and talk about a job?’ and ‘Casey, darlin’, saw an ad in the paper, sellin’ cars, you’d be good at that.’ Sellin’ cars. Fuckin’ crazy. That’s not me. I tell her that, she doesn’t listen to me just keeps at me with that shit. Fuck that, I’m done.”

At this speech it finally broke through. It dawned crystal clear that for the last month as I started my normal life with my job and my room and my boyfriend in this town, Casey had been going through the money I gave him, Gray gave him and undoubtedly his girl gave him. And no doubt he’d done it stupidly. And she was done giving money to him, feeding him, putting a roof over his head and a pillow under it. He probably promised her he’d step up. He didn’t. And she was done.

“Maybe you should take a second, think about what she said and look into those things, Casey,” I whispered my suggestion. “You don’t know. You might like it. I know I like waitressing. It’s fun. Maybe you’ll like doing something steady too.”

“Are you fuckin’ nuts?” Casey shot back. “This isn’t my life and it isn’t yours. We’re goin’.”

“Okay, if you’ve decided it isn’t your life, that’s fine for you. But it is mine and I’m not going anywhere,” I replied.

“We’re goin’,” Casey repeated.

“You can but I’m not,” I returned.

And that was when he shocked me straight to my core.

Because that was when my brother Casey lost it completely doing something he’d never, ever done to me.

And what he did was grab my arm, dip his face half an inch from mine, shake my arm hard and hiss, “Pack your fuckin’ bags, sis, we… are… goin’.”