Because of a Cowboy

Here and Now

"Well, aren't ya gonna open it?" Grandpa Winston asked, leaning on a display case for support.

He never gave me gifts, except on special occasions. Today, as we sat alone in the Harvest Hill Ranch gift shop, couldn't be farther from a special occasion.

"I'm just confused, Grandpa," I said.

"Just open it. Don't keep an old man waiting."

I tore off the cellophane wrapping paper to reveal an aging picture frame. Inside was a faded piece of fabric, a quote perfectly embroidered in pink thread right in the middle.

"'The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once,'" I said. "Thank you. I like it, but why—"

"Your great-grandmother made it for me, when we were expecting our first child." He gave me his classic, sideways smile. The frame was starting to slip out of my sweaty, trembling hands. "It means that time is around for a reason. Take things slow. Enjoy life. Enjoy the time you have with your kids and just relax, Willa."

"How...how did you know?"

"My wife carried five kids. I may forget where I leave my glasses, but I'll never forget becoming a parent."

Just as he finished his sentence, his hand reached the top of his head and his expression changed with the realization that is glasses weren't there.

"On the counter," I said.

He let out a raspy laugh and put on his glasses, still grinning. "I wanted to be the first one to say congratulations."

I bit down on my lip, hoping it would somehow stop the tears forming in my eyes from running down my freckled cheeks.

"Congratulate me for what? Being a slut? For embarrassing my family?"

I could see it now: my family's faces twisting in horror I told them that their little girl, the youngest of eight and not even old enough to vote, was carrying their first grandchild.

"Hey, you're not embarrassing me," he said, handing me the hankey from his shirt pocket, which I politely declined.

I wiped the stray tears on my flannel shirt. This was such an emotional thing, and my hormones were making it so much worse. "Thanks, Grandpa."

The little bell above the door rang, and a group of bundled-up patrons walked in, freshly coated in snow from their sleigh ride. I put on a big smile and gave them a warm, "Howdy, folks!" then tipped my hat. They all eagerly shuffled over to the table of complementary hot chocolate.

I slid my grandpa's gift under the counter as I rang up key chains, cowboy hats, and all the other knickknacks our guests loved to clutter their houses with. I had casual conversations with them about their rides, about what a character their driver, my brother Waldo, was.

"Have a safe trip home. Come see us again real soon!" I said to a young girl, handing her a package of my mother's gingerbread cookies.

She sauntered off and I rubbed my still flat, but suddenly queasy stomach. I could tell my parents and the rest of my family about this whole mishap later on. There was plenty of time.