“To tell you the truth, son, I’ve been bored out of my goddamn mind,” he chuffs. “This retirement thing was fun for a month, but I’m ready to work whereveryou need me. I don’t necessarily want to take on the same amount of work, but I’d really like to have something to do.”
Worry pings in my chest, toying with the edges of my frayed heart. “Dad,” I say softly, “Rosa Ranch is stillyourstoo. Nothing will ever change that, so whatever you want to take on around here, feel free. You don’t need my permission, but let me know so I don’t worry, all things considered.”
He pats me on the back, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll figure out who’s behind this, Ry. You know we will,” he assures me. I believe that, I really do, but what happens if we find outtoo late?
“I see the wheels churning up there,” he says, shaking his head. “Stop your spiralin’ and tell me where to set these boxes.”
Hours pass, and with my dad’s help, we’ve made remarkable time, though I’ve had a great motivator this past week. Winning a Lola Lima smile is enough to make me do just about anything to be on the receiving end of one.
The electric work has all been updated, and I managed to install a chandelier from the center rafter, stringing strands of lights outward from that, covering the whole ceiling.
Lola pushed herself too hard, finishing the last coat of paint by herself. I know she wants to do as much of the renovations herself as she can, but it shattered my entire soul seeing her legs shaking on that ladder with the energy it took to hold herself up. The last straw for me was the stream of tears she couldn’t help but let fall.
Mayte picked her up under the guise of needing something in town. I hate lying to her, but I texted Mayte to come get her, knowing she wouldn’t leave on her own.
Lola’s too independent sometimes, and I refuse to allow that stubbornness to harm her in the long run.
After the paint dried on the far wall, Dad hung another strand of lights at the top; as soon as the paintings I had commissioned arrive next week, we’ll work on getting those uptoo. All we’ll have to do afterward is hang fliers to advertise Lola’s new dance lessons.
I just hope we aren’t inviting more trouble with these classes. Who knows how Lemmon will react when she realizes Lola’s here to stay?
“This is gonna be good for her, Ry,” Dad says, standing beside me with his hands on his hips as he takes in our handiwork.
“I think so too.”
“Now”—he wipes his hands on his jean-clad thighs—“Ezekiel invited me over for hot dogs, and he said he made his own sourdough buns. Wanna join us?”
“Hot dogs?” I ask, my brows pinched in confusion. “Since when does Zeke eat hot dogs?”
Dad gives me a “no idea” look but says, “Knowing him, they’re probably some vegetable concoction he put together.”
“Thanks, Dad, but not tonight. I wanna get home to Lola.”
“Good man,” Dad says, tipping his hat at me with a suggestive wink. “Happy wife, happy life, son.”
“Happy spouse, happy house, Pops.”
He nods, scratching his jaw. “You know, I like that better. I’m using that from now on.”
I chuckle, locking up the barn and following after him to the truck before dropping him off at Zeke’s and heading home to Lola.
Chapter Forty-Two
NO SEAS COMEMIERDA
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 11
I’ve spentevery morning sobbing at that godforsaken barn.
Iknowit’ll be worth it when it’s finished, to have a place that’s all my own, something no one can take from me. As much as I miss Karmella and Yanet, I have no desire to go back to Texas, to leave Mayte, Isabela, Ryder, or my parents. The circumstances suck, but I think everything I’ve ever needed is finally falling into place.
I stretch out on Mayte’s couch, my body humming with an undercurrent of pain that gets worse with each day that I overexert myself to get that barn ready for classes.
I’ve started to spread the word about my first class, knowing there’s not a chance the studio will be completely ready by then, but having a grand opening with a few people from town might raise the rest of the money I need to perfect it.
“Are you sure it’s all Lemmon? Any chance Russ might be behind some of this stuff?” Mayte asks, closing her eyes and breathing in the hot steam from her coffee mug.
I glance aroundGrind, our favorite coffee shop in town,ensuring there aren’t any prying eyes or ears in the vicinity. “The permitting situation wasallLemmon. Ryder spoke with Todd on Monday, who confirmed she’d tried to blackmail him into fining Ryder. When he refused and said he’d call her father for even suggesting such a thing, she clearly decided to take matters into her own hands.”
