“Please. I’m beggin’ you, son. When I’m gone, you make peace with your daddy. You’re gonna need family.”
“Family?” Battle scoffs. “He ain’t family, Mama.”
“She’ll never convince him,” James says under his breath. “Can’t say I blame him.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, knowing I probably shouldn’t.
“Gerald’s as selfish as they come.” He keeps his voice low. “There’s some big ol’ ugly secrets in that family. I’m not sure if even Battle knows all the things his daddy’s done.”
“Well, whatever he does know tears him up inside.”
James leans in close. “That’s because the darkest secret of ‘em all, hurt him the most.”
Battle enters the kitchen right before I ask James more about this big secret. The interruption is probably for the best. As much as I want to know, I want Battle to share it with me when he’s comfortable.
The night ends all too quickly as Battle has to leave for Little Rock in the morning. We say goodnight to his family. My heart feels heavy as I sit in Battle’s truck. Evelyn is a beautiful soul, and an amazing mother. I’m grateful to know her, if only for a short time. Life can be incredibly unfair, and each day is a blessing we should never take for granted.
Battle’s quiet on the way to his house as he usually is when he sees his mom. When we cuddle up together in his bed, I ask him about how he began riding. He tells me it was his granddaddy who taught him and he started out riding sheep when he was only five.
Picturing a tiny blue-eyed Battle on a sheep makes me laugh. He tickles me, telling me that’s how all kids start out. He shares how at ten, he mounted his first bull and didn’t make it out of the gate before he fell. As he continues into his teenage years, my eyelids begin to close, although I try to stay awake. He turns off the lamp on the nightstand and pulls me close, talking to me about the sport he loves until his voice soothes me to sleep.
In the morning, I say goodbye to Battle and drive home. I spend most of the day doing chores around the house until Marty and Ginger show up for a sleepover. We’re having a girls’ night since the guys are in Little Rock. We hang out giving each other pedicures and discussing our love lives, which is a mistake. Ginger and Marty do most of the talking, both of them bragging about the amazing sex they’re having.
I have zilch to contribute since Battle and I haven’t done anything more than hold hands and cuddle. It’s not for a lack of trying on my part either. Whenever I try to initiate a kiss, he ducks his head or turns away. The attraction is there. I can feel it, and I know he can, too.
The waiting is torture. I wonder if I would feel this needy if I didn’t know what I was missing.
“Earth to Faye,” Marty shouts, waving a hand in front of my face.
“What?”
“We want to hear about Battle,” Ginger says. “What’s he like?”
“Oh … Well, he’s … intense.”
“Obviously!” Marty snorts. “But like, multiple orgasms intense?”
Her and Ginger laugh, then stop when they see my tight expression.
“What’s wrong?” Ginger asks.
“Nothing!” I snap. “There’s more to a relationship than sex.”
“Whoa … Okay.” Ginger holds her hands up. “We weren’t tryin’ to upset you.”
A heavy sigh exits my lungs as I realize I may have overreacted. “I know you didn’t. I snapped at you because I don’t know why Battle and I aren’t having sex. It’s making me crazy.”
My friends scoot close to me, one on each side with their arms around me.
“It shouldn’t,” Ginger says quietly.
Marty adds, “He obviously adores you.”
I smile, but only for show. On the inside my doubts and fears keep my relief hostage. I worry he’s simply waiting out the middle, and eventually he’ll realize what he’s said along—that he isn’t capable of more. That his mind is closed off to love and that despite his willingness to try, he isn’t able to move past the pain of his mother slowly dying, or the other secrets he’s yet to share that have cursed his heart. I can’t help but attribute his disinterest in sex with emotional responses he’s afraid to feel.
I’m scared, too, but unlike Battle, I crave the emotional connection that comes with sex. I want to feel the bond that materializes when two people share an open vulnerability with their bodies. Mostly, I want to feel physically what I know he’s afraid to share verbally.
Sunday night, Battle phones to let me know they won’t be leaving Little Rock until the morning. We spend hours talking as he boasts about taming Suit of Armor this time around, and the ride that led him into victory. His love of the sport filters through the phone, filling me with pride.