“Will you sit and talk with me?” Mrs. Sandy asks as we finish drying the dishes from dinner. “I miss our little talks.” She smiles and nudges me in the arm with her elbow.
“Me too.” I return her smile as I hang the damp dishtowel over the handle on the stove. I ask Mrs. Sandy, who’s already sitting at the table doing something on her phone, “Would you like some tea?”
“Huh?” She looks away from her phone and turns her attention to me.
“Tea?” I hold a glass up in the air.
“Oh yeah. That would be great.”
I open the fridge door to retrieve the pitcher of sweet tea, pour us each a glass before I set the pitcher aside, and head over to the table. As I pull out my chair and take a seat, she says, “So are you excited about the upcoming week? You know, with the kids coming and all?”
My lips turn up in a smile at her question. “I am. I honestly can’t wait to see the kids again.”
“I know what you mean. I can’t wait to see all of their smiling faces. I don’t know if Wes has mentioned to you why we started Operation Love.” A distant look crosses her face as she looks down into her glass of tea.
I nod. “He told me a little bit. I think Colt would be really proud of y’all for doing this in his honor.”
She laughs a small laugh and takes a drink of her tea. “Those boys were inseparable when they were around each other. When they were kids, they would chase each other around this big ol’ house playing cowboys and Indians. If you would’ve seen them together, you would have never guessed they were cousins. They were more like brothers than anything else. Colt got sick often, but no matter what, he always seemed to pull himself right out of it. Come out stronger than the time before. Then, the last time he got sick, we all knew he wasn’t gonna pull through it. He even knew it. Wes, the stubborn boy he was, still is, didn’t believe it, and refused to accept it.”
I reach out, cover her hand with mine, and offer my support as tears glide down her face. “When Colt died, he took a little piece of Wes with him. He lost that spark in his eyes. He would take off on one of the horses for hours at a time, and just disappear. Wes wouldn’t even attend the funeral. Will and I pleaded with him to go, told him he needed the closure, but he shut down. He shut everyone and everything out. After a while, he started coming back around, you know, becoming himself again, but not really himself.”
“I do.” I think I might know just as well as the next person who’s lost someone dear to them. A small piece of you will always be missing; you’ll never truly be whole again.
“When he took up bull riding, his father and I thought, finally. We could tell he loved it. He practiced for hours on end, but we never really saw that same spark again. Until he came here and met you,” she whispers as she cups her hand over mine and looks me in the eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and my son, or if anything at all is going on between y’all. But you should know that I can see that spark reigniting in his eyes again. I will admit that I’ve been talking about you to him for the past year.”
“I kind of figured that,” I reply with an easy smile.
“You’re special, Kenleigh. People gravitate toward you. The kids that come here love you. Hell, we all love you. Your presence alone can bring a smile to anyone’s face. I know you have been faced with the pits of despair, but you fought your way out.”
I nod in acknowledgement of how right she is. There was a time when I was in the deepest depths of my depression, and thought I couldn’t go on, but I fought—I fought hard to find me again.
“You’re good for my boy, and I believe he’s good for you, too,” she says earnestly.
“Thank you.” I push my chair back and stand before I lean down and wrap my arms around her shoulders, enveloping her in a hug. “Thank you so much for those kind words,” I whisper.
“Oh, honey, I didn’t say any of that just to say it. I meant every word,” she whispers in return, as she pats my back in comfort.
Just as I pull back, Wes walks in. He takes in Mrs. Sandy and me sitting at the table. Her cheeks are blotchy from crying, and I’m wearing an easy smile. His eyebrows point down in confusion. “Is everything all right? Did I walk in on something I shouldn’t have?” he asks as he looks from me to his mother.
“No,” Mrs. Sandy answers. “We were just having some girl talk.”
He walks over to his mom, wraps an arm around her shoulders, and asks while looking directly at me, “Do you mind if I steal Kenleigh away for a while?”