Knitted Hearts by Amber Kelly
Foster
“What has you in such a good mood this morning?” Truett asks as we load hay bales onto the back of my truck.
“I’m always in a good mood,” I say.
“Bullshit. You’re as ornery as they come in the morning,” he disagrees.
I shake my head and pick up another bale.
“I bet a certain female has something to do with it,” Myer says as he walks into the barn from the back door.
Truett stops and looks at me. “I believe you’re right. That looks like the morning-after glow.”
Myer chuckles.
I slap Truett on the back of the head. “How would you know?”
“I’ve had it before. A time or two,” he says as he runs his hand across the back of his head.
“Two. You’ve had it exactly two times,” I tease him.
“Two and a half,” he corrects me.
I shake my head.
Myer stops and turns to him. “Wait, how do you count a half?”
Truett opens his mouth, an explanation about to spew from his lips, when Myer holds his hand up.
“Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“It’s actually a funny story,” Truett tells him.
“Then, I definitely don’t want to know.” Myer exits the barn.
“Suit yourself,” Truett calls after him before he grabs the bale I just hoisted onto the tailgate and pulls it up to stack it with another.
“It’s been more than two,” he insists.
“With a girl, not alone,” I say and he throws a handful of hay at me as I laugh.
“Seriously, I’m glad to see that spring in your step. You haven’t been happy in a long time,” he says.
I stop and wonder, Am I happy? Is this what happiness feels like?
Last night was amazing and waking up with Sonia all tangled in my sheets, sleeping peacefully, with a smile on her lips that I put there, it was the best damn morning of my life.
I guess it’s true. I am happy.
After a day of riding around with Truett, making sure all the feeders are full and all the cattle are accounted for, I drop him at home and join Myer and Dallas for dinner.
Walker is there when I arrive.
“Hey, man. You freeloading too?” I ask as we fist-bump.
“Yep. My wife went to San Diego with Sophie since Charlotte was busy at the orchard. So, I’m on my own for a couple nights,” he says.
“Won’t Doreen and Ria feed you?” I ask.
“They will indeed, but I figured I’d spread the love around.”
I take a seat next to him on the porch.
Dallas appears in the doorway, carrying Faith. “One of you want to hold her while I cut the vegetables?”
Walker jumps up. “Hand her over.”
“She’s teething, and she’s fussy today,” she warns him.
“Ah, Guncle Walker can handle it.”
“What the hell is a guncle?” I ask.
“Only the coolest man in her life. Her good-time uncle,” Walker coos as Dallas hands her over.
Faith starts giggling as soon as Walker is holding her.
“See, the ladies love me. All shapes, sizes, and ages.”
Dallas rolls her eyes and walks back inside.
Walker sits in the chair beside me.
“Hey there, ladybug. What you got here?” he asks the baby as he lifts her shirt to expose her round belly.
Faith’s eyes watch him intently as he raises her in the air and blows a raspberry on her tummy. Her legs start kicking, and she throws her head back and squeals.
“When are you and Elle going to start a family?” I ask him.
“When the good Lord sees fit. We’ve been practicing like rabbits.”
Faith grabs at his nose.
“Uh-oh. I see another one coming,” he says before lifting her and doing it again.
Faith laughs so hard that a string of drool escapes her mouth and drops on his forehead.
“Ah, direct shot,” he says before pulling up a corner of his shirt and wiping it.
Myer comes out with a plate of seasoned chicken and heads to the grill on the small concrete slab off the side of the porch.
“Hey, Foster. Dinner will be up in about twenty,” he greets.
“You need any help?” I ask.
“Nah, once these grill up, we’ll be set. Dallas has everything else ready.”
We eat outside at the picnic table, and us guys clean up, so Dallas can nurse Faith and put her down. Well, Myer and I clean while Walker plays in the yard with Beau, who is already in his pajamas.
Dallas hovers in the doorway, watching them.
“We need to replace those boots,” she says.
Beau is wearing a pair of worn-out cowboy boots with his sleepwear.
“I know. I tried to get him to wear the new sneakers to school yesterday, but he wouldn’t hear of it. So, he did field day in gym clothes and boots.” Myer chuckles.
“If you ever have a kid, don’t buy them a pair of boots because they’ll be the only damn things they wear from then on. He wears them with shorts, dress pants, sweats, swim trunks. I’ll have to pry them off his feet once they are too small for him.”
“You can go relax, Dal. We’ve got this covered,” he tells her.
“I will as soon as you two are back out there, chaperoning the children.”
Once we have everything put away and the dishwasher loaded, Myer grabs us each a beer, and we go out in the yard with them.
Beau is throwing air punches.
“Pivot on your back foot when you use that cross. It will give you more power,” Walker coaches.
“What are you two doing?” Myer asks.
“Little man is having some trouble with one of the dudes at school. Apparently, he pushed him off the monkey bars today. I’m teaching him some self-defense moves.”
“Watch, Daddy,” Beau calls.
He hops backward, and he starts making guttural noises while wildly swinging his arms as Walker backs up. He manages an impressive jab and uppercut sequence, but Walker is able to block those.
“You have to be faster if you want to scare him off,” Walker yells.
Beau takes that moment to rush forward, and he throws his rear leg with all his body weight behind the kick. Walker tries to block it, but it’s too late, and the kick lands squarely on Walker’s manhood. He cries out in pain and drops to his knees.
“Boot to the nuts, boot to the nuts,” he shouts as we burst into laughter.
Dallas comes running out of the house at the sound of the commotion.
Beau is jumping up and down with his arms up in victory.
“What happened?” Dallas asks.
“I defeated him,” Beau says as he points to Walker.
“Defeated him?”
“Yes, he’s the bad guy,” Beau says.
“Walker was teaching Beau some self-defense punches and kicks to defend himself with on the school playground,” Myer helpfully explains.
Dallas’s face turns red as she looks at Walker and screams, “You what?”
Needing another minute to catch his breath, Walker holds up a finger and slowly stands.
“He’s being pushed around by an older boy,” Walker informs her.
“I know. We’re dealing with it. I can’t believe I leave you three alone with our eight-year-old for five minutes, and you have him throwing punches. Couldn’t you be normal and teach him how to play football or something?”
“Trust me, his foot found a ball,” Walker coughs out.
She shakes her head. “Poor Elle,” she says before taking Beau by the hand and leading him inside.
“What’d she mean by that?” Walker looks to us for an answer.
“No idea,” Myer replies.
Walker hobbles to join us.
“How are things with you and Sonia?” he asks as he sits carefully.
“Good. Better than good actually,” I tell them.
“Excellent,” Walker declares.
Myer elbows my side. “That is good news. We adore her.”
“Damn right we do. Not only is she my girl’s best friend, but she also takes care of my momma like she’s her own. She’s a fucking angel,” Walker adds.
“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know,” I inform them.
“Just be sure you don’t forget it. I’d hate to have to hurt you,” Walker warns.
“That’s awfully big talk from a man who just had an eight-year-old knock him to his knees,” I tease.
“Ha-ha. I let him kick me. I just didn’t think he would kick that low.”
“He’s four feet tall. Where’d you think he’d land it?” Myer laughs.
Walker rolls his eyes and then gives me a serious look. “I’m just saying, that dickhead she was married to was a piece of work. She deserves someone who’s going to be a good man, who loves her and does right by her, even when no one is looking.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I tell him.
“All righty then, I’m going to head home and put a bag of frozen peas on my nuts.”
“Yeah, I’d better head home too. Thank you for the food, man, and tell Dallas I said her broccoli casserole is better than her mom’s.”
“She’ll love that. See you tomorrow.”