The chuckling wore out. Yoda’s ears flickered and his jowls flapped on the wind through the open window.
“Pops wasn’t so bad a guy, was he,” Travis said.
“Naw, just an old-school cowboy who didn’t know how to say what he felt,” Toby conceded. “Or how to deal with two hotheaded sons. Glad he got a good one in the bunch with Tyler. But he loved us. When he thought you’d been killed…” The chuckling fell silent, as if Toby was searching for choice words. “I ain’t ever seen Pops look so broken—sorry to bring it up—”
“Nope. No more apologies, Toby. No more walking on eggshells.”
“Then tell me all about Skylar. You guys a thing again? You said you had something you wanted to ask me? I assume it’s if I’ll be your best man, right?”
Yeah, he could be that rock for Skylar again, but this time, unlike so long ago when he’d made the choice for both of them to let her go, he could let her be his rock, too, in the words of that famous singer, for forever and ever, amen.
“Let me tell you about a kid named Brandon…” He flipped on his blinker, turning onto the back highway that took him toward Los Magueyes and his Texas Sky.