Steering Toward Normal by Rebecca Petruck

Author:Rebecca Petruck
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2014-04-05T04:00:00+00:00

When Wayne pulled into the drive and parked, Diggy leapt out and pretended to kiss the snowy ground.

“I wasn’t that bad,” Wayne grumbled.

“You drove at wherever you looked,” Diggy argued. “We’re lucky we didn’t end up in the ditch.”

As soon as the words popped out, Diggy wanted to shove his foot into his mouth. Wayne probably would have helped, except he was staring at the house like it was the mouth of hell.

Pop squeezed Wayne’s shoulder. “I can take care of this.”

Wayne hovered. A calf mooed, and Wayne nodded. He headed toward the cows.

Diggy didn’t like the idea of Pop going in there alone, but Pop shooed him off.

Wayne had turned on the radio by the time Diggy got to the calves. Though it was part of the routine to get the animals used to noise, Diggy worried about being able to hear if Pop called out from the house. He turned it off.

Wayne froze for a second, then hunched more tightly over the Scotch comb he worked through the hair on Fang’s hind legs. The calf’s head was tied high, and Diggy matched it when he tied Joker. The calves needed to get used to the posture they’d hold in the show ring.

With both Diggy and Wayne’s attention only half in the barn, the cows shuffled and fidgeted. When they got even more fidgety, Diggy checked the door and saw that they weren’t alone anymore—Pop hung back, while Graf edged forward.

“Wayne,” Diggy hissed over Joker’s back.

Wayne didn’t move for so long that Diggy almost believed the guy didn’t know his dad was there—but not quite. After a few more seconds, Wayne patted his calf’s rump, then looked over at his dad.

Graf’s hangdog look hung lower than ever. Diggy was afraid the man might start crying—he looked that pitiful.

Graf cleared his throat and walked on over to them. “He’s filling out good.”

Wayne may have left the door cracked open for his father to redeem himself back when he first moved in and Pop encouraged him to, but Diggy was pretty sure that door was closed now.

Graf cleared his throat again. “You still feeding him that alfalfa hay?”

Wayne shrugged.

The silence got to where Diggy was embarrassed, so he filled it with talk about how they would get the steers transitioned to feed in April, the flakes of hay they went through each day, and the linseed oil he mixed in to promote hair growth.

“Good, good,” Graf said, like he hadn’t really been listening. He scrubbed his hair, then muttered to Wayne, “I owe you an amend.”

Wayne snorted. “Yeah, like the steps are working out for you.”

He might as well have smacked his dad; his words had the same effect.

“I’ve got a sponsor,” Graf said.

“Don’t come out here anymore.”

“It was a slip, but I can—”

“Don’t come out here anymore.” Wayne turned to his calf and brushed long, smooth strokes along its back.

Graf flopped his hands a couple of times, but no words came. He even looked at Pop, like he wanted help, but Pop only shook his head—not mean or anything, but as if to say now was not the time.

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