Perhaps softer was the right word.
The light of the surrounding forest was softer. I felt as though the air itself was alive and I was displacing its vibrancy as I moved. A collection of faint sounds, both near and far, heightened this impression: the crunch of leaves beneath our shoes, a conversation between two sparrows, the percussion of a woodpecker, the low rustle of wind through trees, and eventually, the gentle rushing of an unseen water source.
“Did you go on a date with Jackson?” Cletus asked suddenly, his voice sounded carefully light.
I studied his back, his big shoulders. My eyes followed the line of his back. He had a nice back.
“No. I . . . I put him off. I still haven’t made up my mind.”
“What’s holding you back? Is it still your concern about baking with a partner?”
The side of my mouth lifted. “Yes, to be honest. That’s definitely part of it and that part concerns me. And by the way, you never sent me Claire’s information.”
“Ah, yes. Well you’ll see her Saturday. You can talk to her then.”
“Saturday?”
“Yep. When you come to the talent show and watch me play the banjo.”
I thought I detected a hint of vulnerability in his tone, but when he remained quiet I decided it must’ve been my imagination.
“Um, I’d really like to go, but I don’t think my father will allow it.” I attempted to disguise my sadness with pragmatism. I didn’t want to admit that I’d been considering sneaking out my window for the occasion.
. . . but I shouldn’t have to sneak out my window. I should be able to go where I wanted, when I wanted. A tower of resentment was building around my heart; every day I felt myself growing less and less concerned about what would make my parents happy.
Cletus was quiet for a bit before asking, “What if Billy came? What if y’all had another fake date?”
“Then my father would be thrilled,” I answered flatly.
“Why does your father like him so much? Watch your step. The path looks wider past here.” Cletus turned and grabbed my hand, helping me down a steep drop, then tangled our fingers together. “Don’t misunderstand me, I think Billy is the best sort. But I know I’m biased because he’s my brother and he’s always been a steady source of support. I’d like to understand your father’s preoccupation with him, though. You know,” his eyes darted to mine, then away, “so I can help you find someone similar. For the husband search. That’s why.”
“My father has been bringing Billy up since I was little.” I tried my best to sound normal, because Cletus kept possession of my hand, presumably because the ground was now loose rocks instead of firm dirt. “I mean, he was the star quarterback in high school. When he turned down that football scholarship to UT and disappeared for a few months, I think he shocked everyone. My father was so disappointed.”
“He had his reasons.” Cletus’s voice was defensive, but also distant with a memory.
“I’m sure he did. More recently, my father has been impressed with how Billy basically started at the bottom of Payton Mills and has worked himself up to South East Region Vice President.”
Cletus frowned. “Is that his title?”
“My father thinks so. And he’s certain Billy wants to run for state senate. Both my parents like the idea of having a son-in-law in politics. I think that’s why they like Jackson so much. I know he has plans to run for office.”
“Jackson would make a great politician.”
“I thought you didn’t like Jackson?”
“I don’t. Saying someone would make a great politician is like saying someone would make a great serial killer. It’s not a compliment.”
I tried not to laugh, but a frustrated chuckle escaped anyway. “What about your grandfather? Your grandfather Oliver was in politics, right? I think my grandfather Donner and your grandfather Oliver were friends.”
“Right.” Cletus chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes on the rocky trail, but also hazy with thought. “Is that what you want? A husband in politics?”
I shrugged. “I don’t care what he does, as long as he’s nice to me and wants a houseful of children.”
“Why do you like kids so much?” He switched his hold on my hand, pressing our palms more completely together as he unnecessarily helped me jump a gap in the trail.
“Are you kidding? Kids are the best. Kids are free of prejudice, and they want to have fun all the time. They want to play all the time. And they’re like sponges with knowledge. Eager to learn. How many adults do you know who are eager to learn?”
“Not many,” he admitted on a mumble.
“And babies. I love babies. I love cuddling them and holding them and just everything.”
“I like babies, too.” Cletus gave me an artless smile and we were quiet for a moment after, likely both thinking about the wondrousness of babies.