The Ranch by B. E. Baker

Author:B. E. Baker [Baker, B. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Purple Puppy Publishing

17

Amanda

In my mind, closing my cookie shop would involve fanfare and shame. I’d have to tell everyone that it was losing money, and that I didn’t really love it, and maybe they’d argue with me.

The reality was that it took me thirty seconds to find a piece of paper and write TEMPORARILY CLOSED on it. Then I stuck it in the front window and locked the door.

Voila.

I wonder how many other things in my life have a much simpler solution than I ever realized. Certainly not the issues my daughter Maren created. When I finally got up the nerve to talk to her coach, I discovered that my sister-in-law had indeed already beaten me to the punch. The whole interaction with Coach Hanna left me feeling like a delinquent parent.

I didn’t even agree with what Abby did, but it wasn’t as if I had much grounds to argue about it.

But when I walked inside and saw that the carpet people had installed the wrong color—the color they tried to foist off on me that I refused? I was irate.

Hearing that Abby had approved it only made me more angry. I still can’t believe I yelled at her like I did, or that I criticized everything she did and said. The person I’m really angry at is myself.

She was right.

I’ve been relying on her shamelessly to do everything hard while I hide. My daughter Maren’s issues. My cookie shop’s failure. My duty to oversee the remodel as the one with the most flexible job. Cooking and cleaning around the house. Any responsibilities with the ranch. I still can’t believe I slept through the mediation.

Abby called me more than twenty times, just like she said, and I never called her back. I was too ashamed. And if I was too ashamed then, how much worse do I feel now? I should just disappear.

The world would be a better place.

But I can’t do any of that. I have two little girls to teach, to support, and to take care of. I can’t keep wallowing and hiding and delaying, not for another moment. Except, I have to for today, at least. The only reason I finally force myself to face Abigail is that I have another date tonight. I actually slept in long enough that I had to come out to prepare for my flight, and there was no way to avoid seeing her for any longer.

I can feel Abby’s kids’ eyes on me.

Forget that—I feel my kids’ eyes on me.

“Just a few more things to pack.” I duck back inside my room.

I don’t blame them for judging me. I’m judging myself. I did cause the issues with the cow sale contract, and then knowing that Maren was struggling, and that the remodel was wrapping up, I ignored it all.

Because that’s what I do. I run away and hide when things are hard.

I did it as a child when my parents fought.

I did it as an adult when Paul got upset.

And I did it as a widow after Paul was gone.

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