Just a sweet little "transition" chapter, after the fireworks of Wyatt's "True Confessions." They're still in they're honeymoon period, which will make the Vegas days all the more devastating...

For now, it's rodeo time at the ranch! Enjoy!

I found her gift when I turned over on this first generation IPod laying on my pillow right next to my head. It almost fell into my face—she wanted to make sure I saw it.

It was one of the first IPods Apple made back in the day, and it was just so Wyatt to have just ignored all the upgrades over the years--it looked almost new, too. Like maybe somebody gave it to her, or the school district decided every teacher should have one, and she stashed it somewhere and just forgot about it.

But it was like trying to do a Rubik’s cube or something. It didn’t even have a display window or anything, so I kept turning it around and flipping it over looking for some kind of “on” button. And then I accidentally pushed the right place and it started.

Once I got it going and put old those earbuds on, boy, this big old grin spread across my face so wide my head should’ve split in half. Because the track it was set up to play was Wyatt singing this song I had never heard of before.

I knew it was a Joni Mitchell track she was singing to, because when it came to the harmony parts, Joni’s voice was there ‘way in the background. Otherwise, the vocals were mostly removed so that it sounded like Wyatt singing with the band—nice, jazzy little groove. Happy, too. Breezy, like Joni’d been in a very “up” state of mind when she wrote it.

And the lyrics...man, I was, like...well let me just give ‘em to you. It started off with:

I'm a lucky girl

I found my friend

That was enough to rock my world right there. But then she sang:

I've been all around the world

Mission Impossible

Chasing the rainbow's end

Wise guys

Shy guys

And sly lover boys

With big bad bedroom eyes

I never loved a man I trusted

As far as I could pitch my shoe

'Til I loved you

You're my lucky star

You're my magician

You make the night prowling disappear

Vanished from the star war bars

Empty repetition

I get my heart full here

Playboys

Stray boys

And "Say, hey, hey" boys'll

treat you like a toy

I never loved a man I trusted

as far as I could pitch my shoe

til I loved you

Woman beaters

and Huck Finn shucksters

hopping parking meters

I never loved a man

I trusted

as far as I could pitch my shoe

'til I loved you...

Yeah, that’s how come I fell back on that pillow grinning my dumb ass off. I didn’t care if she’d originally sung it for somebody else. It was my song now. And I knew she hadn’t shared those secrets with him. I’d have bet she never shared them—all of them—with anybody but me.

And then I started thinking about some of the stuff she’d told me. And it didn’t kill my buzz, it just made me worry about her a little bit. I mean, I wondered if she had that morning after “I can’t believe I told him that” thing going on, maybe. Cause you know Wyatt by now. One step forward, ten back—it’s a constant tug of war with her.

But just as I was about to go rushing off to stop her from retreating again, in she came wearing these skinny jeans and a little cropped off sweatshirt kinda of thing. And with her hair in a big pony tail at the top of her head like Aisha does hers sometimes. And it was still ‘’way past her shoulders.

When I spread out my arms wide she came right over and sat down and let me wrap them around her.

I said, “God, you are somethin’, you know?”

And she looked up into my eyes in a way that made it impossible for me to do anything else but kiss her. Not a sexy kiss. We had kisses that said all kinds of things, from “Thank you,” to “Just checkin’ in.” A first for me. I mean, I probably had done it before without thinking about it, but that’s what I mean about Wyatt. She made me aware of things all the time.

I’m not entirely sure what all that kiss was supposed to say, but after we’d gazed at each other for a minute I managed to ask, “When did you make that?”

 “An old friend did this a Joni Mitchell tribute podcast a few years ago,” she said. “He asked us to pick some really obscure songs people might not know—there were ten of us. And he made these tracks for us to sing to.”

“You picked a good one,” I told her. Looking her right in the eyes so she knew I meant the song and the singer, both.

She said, “I did,” with this little twinkled in her eyes—she meant me. I know you know that, but I just wanted to say it out loud.

And then, she said, “It was just a little song I liked. ‘til a few days ago...”

And my stupid heart got all fluttery. I have never done that before--it almost scared me. I mean, JJ had a little battery thing in his chest to stop his heart from doing something like that. But I knew my heart wasn’t attacking me. It was just sort of jumping for joy, you know?

This is how I know that your whole body knows what a big deal it is when you meet That One. Like, every molecule is awake and getting the message--you know how some old person dies and their husband or wife dies a few days later? I totally see how that works now.

You go into shock like you’ve been fatally wounded. And there’s no love transfusion or anything they can give you, so you just die.

We were just about done making each other crazy when somebody started beating on the door front door like they were going to break it down. And when we opened it, Wyatt gasped, looked up at me and then looked down at what walked in—or what rolled in, actually.

“Oh, my G--it’s my bicycle!” she said.

And that is exactly what Big Man wheeled into the room. Or so I thought, ‘til Cat said, “Well, it’s a bicycle like yours.”

Her and the girls were right behind Big Man. Grinning like little devils.

And Aisha wheeled the bike right up to Wyatt and said, “Merry Christmas, Mami!”

I got up and gave Aisha a kiss on the cheek and said, “You guys! How the hell did you do this?”

And Mike said, “There’s this young dude in Flag puts together old bikes out of all these parts he collects. He’s pretty famous.”

 “I should’ve known,” Wyatt told me. “She asked me what kind of bike I’d had a few days ago. Before we left Tucson. We even had a little conversation about it. How I’d ridden it all over Europe and...Oh, my goodness! It is absolutely beautiful!”

She wiped her eyes and the girls all came over and hugged her. Big Man got his hug after they peeled off her all teary eyed themselves.

“Is that where you were yesterday?” I asked.

“Drove ‘em up right quick.” Big Man said. “Dude’s got a big old warehouse fulla bikes and pieces of bikes. He gets orders from all over the world—parts, too. So you can have any bike you want.”

“And we got yours,” Aisha said, all proud of herself.

But then, she noticed my bruises. And she went “Oh, hell naw! Who—“

“Goon party,” I said.

And Wyatt said, “It even has the little saddle bag in back,” to distract her even more.

Aisha backed down because she didn’t want to spoil the moment any more than we did. But I got a devilish little glare that told me I’d be hearing more later. Or, I’d have to tell her more, later.

For the time being, we went back to the bike. And then through the front window I saw a big SUV drive up, and my babies, Bonnie, Kelli and Joie come marching to the door with Tia bringing up the rear.

Aisha ran over to let them in and stole Tyler out of the stroller before Bonnie could even think. And Tia looked right at me, all frowned up like she was pissed or something.

“They’re waiting for you!” she said. “It’s almost noon!”

“Yeah, you should see all the cars out there on the highway,” Big Man told me. “It’s ‘way out of control, man. We had to cut around the back way.”

“What’s going on now?” Wyatt asked me.

“Rodeo parade.”

“You can ride your bike!” Aisha said.

Wyatt chuckled but I put an arm around her and said, “You could, actually. It’s not the kind of parade you’re thinking of. It’s sort of like what they did when we first got here. Most people just walk.”

“But he rides in the truck with the band,” Mike said.

“So she will ride with him,” Tia said. Which ended that discussion.

“Babies, too,” I said. “Bonnie, you and Kelli go with Big Man and the girls, okay? And Joie—“

Joie did this little strut and said, “I’m gonna walk it out, honey!”

“Girl, you gon’ get us lynched,” Aisha said. “These red necks ain’t ready for you!”

“It’s time for you to go!” Tia said. And she walked out of the house to show she meant business.

So I told Wyatt, “We’ll ride it when we get back, okay?”

Wyatt gave the bike a loving smile and said, “I still can’t believe it.” And to the girls, she said, “You’re so sweet! Honestly--thank you so much!”

“Well, you got him for Christmas first. So we knew we were gonna have to fin’ somethin’ pretty damned good,” Aisha said.

We had a good laugh behind that one. But then Wyatt said, “All you’ve done this Christmas is take care of me.”

“Oh, he ain’t even got started yet, have you, Papi?” Aisha said.

Tia laid on the horn of her big old Suburban right then, and Big Man said, “You better go on out there before she Madea’s that thing through the wall.”

I grabbed the kids, Wyatt grabbed the baby bag and we made a run for it right behind all the others.

We took an old wheel rut road to get lined up in this big pasture where the rodeo folks had already gathered. The parade always starts with this Native country band playing on a flatbed truck that me and the council chairman sit on.

After that comes all the rodeo competitors in cars, trucks and RVs. And then villagers jump in driving trucks or on foot or on their horses. As they pass, folks from the nearby towns fall in behind, some walking, some driving, some riding their showiest horses or in buggies, even, drawn by horses. The volunteer fire brigade has a stage coach they restored—everyone loves that thing.

I stand in for Tuff now, which is why I get to ride with the band. And that time I had my children and Wyatt with me, which caused a lot of excitement for sure. Wyatt put on her bravest smile, but mostly played with the babies while I waved and whatnot.

Ty did a little dancing, of course. He took their minds off Wyatt, bless him, jumping up and down while she held his hand. Taylor was on Wyatt’s lap, laughing and pointing at him. The rest of the week they’d be with us, and I was dying to see what all else they’d get up to.

Big Man was right about all the cars along the route. If they were all coming for the rodeo, it was going to be the biggest turnout I’d ever seen. New faces, license plates from ‘way far away—I was pretty stunned.

But I sort of knew why they’d come. They’d been holding some sort of rodeo up there for over a century, ‘way before Tuff. And always starting the day after Christmas and running ‘til New Year’s Eve.

I don’t know how they kept it going for so long. The old arena was tiny and pretty beat up by the time we came along. The wood was almost disintegrating in the bucking chutes and back where they keep the stock. And the bleachers were wobbly and splintery, too. The council was afraid somebody would get hurt one day and sue the hell out of us.

They patched things up as much as they could every year, but it was just so old and outdated that we finally decided to just start from scratch. So a local planning “cadre” was set up and they got one of the top companies to design it and to upgrade the stables and whatnot, too, while we were at it.

There was also a big old barn of a place just for vendors. That’s where they sold all kinds of food and art work and jewelry—county fair style, you know? Only real, locally made stuff, not the expensive things you see at the fairs now that no local could afford.

It’s only about a two mile ride back from the starting point to our ranch, but because we move so slow and there are all these people walking along behind the vehicles, it takes a long time for everyone to finally get back to the arena.

So I didn’t get to see Joie “walk it out,” but I heard about it, for sure. And the girls took pictures and videos of her strutting her crazy ass down the highway doing the Queen Elizabeth wave. I love that wo/man for being so brave.

I mean, I think because she clowns around like that, so they don’t get all uneasy about her. In fact, they get such a kick out of her that they come up and talk to her. And then she’s just another human being, you know? Because they’ve met her and all.

I realize how that sounds, but they really don’t know about trannies except what they see on RuPaul’s Drag Race or something—I’m not even sure they get that channel up there. So it’s a big deal, what Joie has done over the years. They look for her, like I said. If she didn’t show, they’d pick on me about it, thinking maybe I didn’t invite her back or something.

We had a perfect day weather-wise, for sure. It sort of worried me that we didn’t seem to be having winter at all. It had to be in the 70s that day, all bright and sunny and warm. But I was glad of it, while we were up there on that flatbed. I didn’t want the kids to get too chilly, especially.

What I love most are the faces in the crowd—the white ones, really get to me especially. I’m not being partial or anything, they’re just so different up there.

Most Americans don’t even know people like these ones exist anymore. And I think that’s how come they vote so weird, to vex all the city slickers who don’t care about them, you know? I really believe that.

They’re so 30s/40s/50s, you know? Like they stepped out of those pictures you see in those historic collections online.

Freckle-faced kids standing in front of mothers who never wear makeup and just came running out of the kitchen with their aprons on and a baby riding one hip. And tough as nails fathers in overalls and caps they got for free at the feed store.

They’re not like the cool cowboy studs in Levis or Wranglers and a perfect white shirt. These are guys who dig in the dirt and mend fences and shovel horse and cow crap in the barns and all. They look like they walked away from behind an old horse drawn plow or something. But they waved and grinned as we passed. Like they were grateful that all those chores’d be left undone for once.

I’m glad we give them a chance to have some fun. Cause God knows, they don’t have much to look forward to otherwise. They come from those last farm and ranch families that have been out there scratching a living out of the ground since the first homesteaders made it that far. And there’s always some coal company or something threatening to wipe them off the land once and for all.

Because you can’t make a whole lot of money farming on your own anymore. You need to sign on with some big corporation or something—I don’t know exactly how that works, but it seems like companies make these contracts with farmers and the farmers have to grow what they’re told and get paid whatever they offer.

And those farmers get all kinds of help after that. So if you’re not signed up, you can’t compete because you have to buy your own stuff and you don’t have much of a market left, either, for the stuff you grow.

There’s not a lot of corporations interested in these guys, either. There’s just not enough of them and they don’t own enough land to make much of a profit off of. So their kids think they’re chumps and all they talk about is how they’re never going to wind up like their parents.

Sounds like our Goons, right? Ashamed of how their families are looked down upon. Always talking about running off somewhere. The city’ll eat ‘em alive when they do. I’ve seen it.

They’re raised out there in a simpler world and they wind up on the corner working for some pimp within a day or two, once they leave. They’re too naïve. Sick shit starts happening to them almost immediately. And by that third or fourth day, they’re all beat down and the vultures swoop down on them.

But it was rodeo day that day, though. And even those angry kids were going to party hearty. My son was already partying. Wyatt held his hand so he could come over and grab onto my knees—he was still having trouble getting those legs to work right. But it wasn’t slowing him down any.

So I said, “Hey, baby boy!” and he gave me this big squealy laugh and let me haul him up into my lap. And that’s when Taylor climbed down from Wyatt’s lap, hung there a second, and then came stumbling over to me—her first steps, out in front of the whole world and all.

Wyatt went, “Oh, my God” all excited and I grabbed her little hand and said, “Hey, you!”

And she stood there grinning like she’d planned the whole thing just to see me smile like that.

“We’re in double trouble now,” I said to Wyatt.

“Oh, you can handle it, Daddy,” she said.

I said, “I guess I’ll have to,” and Taylor leaned down and “bit” my knee. And then laughed like she was the happiest little creature on God’s green earth.

Wyatt and I both just kept trying to hang onto one or the other, so they could stomp back and forth between us on that flatbed safely. And if you didn’t know us, I think you would’ve thought she was my mom and theirs, too, probably. That I was the John Boy of the family, you know?

But if you looked close enough, at our faces when we looked at each other, you couldn’t miss what was really going on between us. We had this weird glow that everybody caught right away and teased us about a lot that day.

Taylor climbed up on me and gave me a sloppy kiss on the lips and then laughed and clapped her hands like she was all proud of herself. And I sort of crushed her up against me and cried—no kidding, I burst into tears, but you couldn’t see it. It looked like I was doing that thing parents do to kids on the belly, you know? Tickling her with my nose or something.

But I was crying my stupid eyes out. Because I loved her and the whole day so much.

Wyatt put her hand in the small of my back—I wonder how we just know that’s the place to touch someone?

She did it because she’d found her “friend.”

Like Joni said.