“Sure,” I said, not letting him see how uncomfortable this whole incident had made me.
“You really don’t want to get back into dealing?” he asked, one final question as we walked back out into the living room.
“Nah, man,” I said, trying not to dwell on the thought. “I promised John I wouldn’t get back into that stuff for as long as I’m working for him and the Lazy J.”
He snorted and folded himself down into a seat. “You fucking pussy.” From the mild tone of his voice, you wouldn’t know we’d ever disagreed about anything.
Again, I felt a tinge of unsettlement. Something was going on with Brent, something he didn’t want to talk about. I wanted to know what it was, but asking would only upset him again. So for now, I pushed my feelings aside.
Chapter Twelve
Vanessa
Sunday morning brunches had always been a staple in our household, but Dad and I hadn’t had a good brunch since before Mom died. Brunches had been so hard for the two of us since then. I tended to dislike them more than I should but that was only because of the memories I could no longer make with Mom.
I wanted to surprise Dad with a hearty spread, just like old times. I’d gone to the store during the week and picked up all the ingredients I needed for waffles with strawberries on Sunday morning. Dad didn’t use the fridge or the pantry often anymore, so I didn’t expect he’d come across the extra groceries and wonder what the ingredients were for.
He came down into the kitchen just as I stacked the last waffle onto a plate. He looked at the food piled on the countertop, pleasantly surprised.
“Do you need me to make coffee or anything?” he asked, his voice gruff.
I smi
led at him. “Coffee’s already made,” I told him. “Just need a little help carrying this all out to the back table.”
He nodded his head and moved automatically to grab plates and bring them out to the table on the back porch. I followed with the mugs of coffee and the silverware. It was a beautiful summer morning with a bright blue sky above us. The sun was just starting to warm up the ranch. A few students were already out in the practice rings. Some merely walked their horses while others were already running through their paces, sailing over jumps or dancing through dressage routines.
“So, what’s the occasion anyway, sweetheart?” Dad asked as we sat down. He shook out his napkin.
I shrugged. “No occasion,” I said, smiling. “I just wanted to make us brunch.”
“Hmm,” he said before falling silent.
Indeed, that was the last that either of us said for a while. Dad finally broke the silence. “So, you really plan to follow through with this idea of yours, for the gallery?” he asked. It came out as a question, but he said it as though he already knew the answer.
I shrugged and continued to pick at my food. “Well, I’m not so sure now,” I said. “I’d love to do the gallery. Don’t get me wrong. But with the bank refusing to give me a loan unless I can put up some sort of collateral, I’m not sure how realistic a goal it is. They want somewhere around twenty-five thousand dollars. Even if I worked a good full-time job, it would be a while before I had that much in liquid funds.”
Dad paused for a moment, chewing deliberately. “They’d accept it if I was the one putting up the collateral,” he said slowly.
It was an idea that I’d already considered and discarded. I shook my head. “You don’t have that much money lying around,” I said. “Unless you wanted to put the ranch up as collateral, and I refuse to let you do that.”
“Why not?” he asked. “What would be the harm in that? I know you’re interested in the gallery. I can see it in your eyes every time you talk about it. And, I’ve read through your business proposal; it seems sound. There’s no reason for me to believe that it wouldn’t take off exactly how you project that it would.”
“I couldn’t let you risk it, though,” I said, shaking my head. “I believe the gallery would become a popular tourist site, but it’s impossible to know for sure. Who knows how things might go? That’s not really my area of expertise, nor is it yours.”
“I’ve talked to some of the renters and out-of-towners, though,” he said. I couldn’t help thinking how sweet he was. He and I might not always see eye-to-eye on my chosen line of business, but he was always there for me in his own way. “Everyone that I’ve talked to says that it sounds like a great idea.”
I sighed. “Thinking it’s a great idea and actually purchasing tickets for a gallery are two entirely different things.”
We were both silent for a moment.
“Believe me, I appreciate you asking around,” I said. “But I still won’t let you put up the ranch as collateral. This place has been in the family for years. I’d hate to think what might happen to it if the gallery couldn’t pay its debts. The bank could repossess our land, the house, the stables, and everything else. And it wouldn’t just be us affected, either. It would affect anyone who leased space in the stables, anyone who came here for a ride, anyone who ever interacted with the place.”
It would affect Trethan, my mind reminded me, as though it was relevant to this conversation.
I shook my head to clear it, banishing the thought. “I really appreciate the offer,” I said, reaching out to grasp my father’s hand where it rested on the table. “But this gallery, I need to do it on my own. It needs to be my project.”
Dad looked like he wanted to argue, but after a long moment, he merely grunted and turned his attention back to his food.