“That checks out,” Liv said, giving June a brief once over. Carefully, she tugged at the end of a ribbon, watching the gift spin and spin to its grand reveal. This one was some sort of makeup set – probably one of June’s many PR packages judging by all the shades. She could tell based off the wrapping paper which ones were from June’s endless mountain of PR and which ones she picked herself.
Liv lowered herself onto the rug and picked up one of the “June wrapped” gifts. She looked up at the request with her own little laugh. Technically, she already painted something for June because June was one of those people: she had everything and then some, so the gifts had to be special. It sat on the counter, wrapped all nice and neat. “I did tell you that and I do. I’ll get the canvas if you tell me the dimensions. What would you want me to paint for you?”
—
“I don’t want to tell you what to paint,” June frowned. “That ruins all the fun.” June liked art that was by people who did art because they wanted to do it and not because of some request. June wanted Liv to do what Liv did best, whatever she wanted.
“No, I don’t know what size yet. We’re still looking at places. There’s this really cool one that has a silo built into it, that I love. But we need a place with a barn, Duck needs to come home, and Vann’s gonna put his clients horses out there, and we need chutes, and a real arena, and cows, and it’s a whole thing.” June paused. “I am gonna have a big party out there after we move in, whatever place we choose.”
“Okay but–” he started, “listen to what you just said. Your money.” He said, hard stop. “It’s yours, you made it. It’s not mine.” It wasn’t necessarily pride, he wasn’t a prideful man for the most part, but it was a sense of he didn’t work for it, so it wasn’t his. And even then, most of the things weren’t his. “That doesn’t make it anymore mine.” He rolled his eyes, “hate songs about me? Come on.” While, for a minute they were very helpful in getting him laid, the long term, not so great if he was just walking in a store, and it was a not so nice song about him or something he’d done or a negative idea of him. “I thought thats what we were doing.” He said looking at her for a long second, “are you doing something else?”
“Mmmmm.” He murmured, “don’t go spreadin’ that rumour, people will start believin’ it.” He said, low enough for just her to hear, not that he’d seen anyone else there today. He pressed yet another kiss to her lips before laughing, “that doesn’t sound like me. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never drive a joke home like a paid comedian.” He said, a bold faced lie right in front of her. “I’m pretty sure you’re the problem and you just don’t know how to laugh at a great joke.” He shrugged, like that could, in any world, actually be the problem. “I have to watch him.” He sighed, “it’s not my fault I’m pretty sure you were trying to purposefully distract me.” Was she actually doing that? He would never know, but he was distracted none the less. “Please walk him again, I’m gonna look at his ass and not yours, promise.”
—
She paused, because while it was a light subject, it also wasn’t. Pausing, while he was speaking, she gently tapped her fingers to his chest, a look of seriousness and a flash pain crossed her face. “Vann, I —” She tilted her head in a wince. Hurt trying to even get it out. “I almost lost you twice, for that money. I almost put myself in the hospital, for that money. The fights, the breakdowns, the bullshit... we sacrificed a lot for it, for my whole career. So no, it’s not just mine.” Her hand paused on her chest. “And now it’s time use what we sacrificed for to get something for us, for our family. It just... doesn’t mean anything if I don’t get to share it with you.” She sighed. She wasn’t going to address the content of the songs, she’d written three songs that were really about him in that album, and they weren’t even that mean. Now, did they age well? No, not even a little. Especially the one, but she was young and mad and stupid.
Blinking once, she changed the subject back and went, “You know, I’m kinda tempted to tell you all I know and see what you say. Though, you’d be walking around like ten or twenty feet tall and bulletproof, for sure.” Her lips twitched into a smile at that. But then he’d say something that would probably piss her off, even though the old things he used to say didn’t hit her like they used to, she wasn’t sure of the risk. “Alright, I’m gonna walk him. His ass is bigger, should be easier to see, you know.”
WHAT COWBOYS DO / self para
where / fort worth stock show and rodeo, fort worth, tx
when / saturday jan 28 - feb 8th
featuring @vannrichmond
June was surprised when her phone rang in the middle of the day. Even more surprised when it was Vann. “Hey baby,” she said, adjusting her AirPods as she walked with Beau.
“They’re here.”
Cryptic, just how she liked it. “…you gonna explain or am I supposed to know what that means?”
“Your parents. They’re here.”
June stopped walking for a second. Well, that was a shock. “Both of them?”
“Your mom hugged me,” he said, his tone sounded like he just went through a whole war and was now calling from the frontlines.
“Dad there?”
“Yeah. Yep. He’s here. He nodded at me.”
“Huh,” June said.
“Huh.” He mimicked, in her tone, poorly. “I’m out here, dealing with your family reunion, trying to win a rodeo, and that’s all you’re saying?”
“Guess you’re the favorite now, baby,” June said, her tone flippant.
“I don’t want to be the favorite, I don’t want them here at all.” He sighed. She could almost hear him scrub a hand through his hair, annoyed. Her lips twitched with a smile, because he was really acting like he lost a limb and occasionally Vann’s dramatics made her just grin away.
“You know they came — he came — as his way of saying sorry, showing he supports,” June said, it slowly sinking in. There wasn’t even anything else to watch that her father would have cared about. All the good horse events happened at the beginning of the stock show, and the rodeo was at the end. June wasn’t even singing it. She was still in Iron River until the last of the week. The rodeo was ten days long, and she’d come for the final rounds.
“I’m gonna lose now,” Vann groaned. “Don’t be alarmed when I call from the ER.”
“Vann, do you want me to fly out tonight instead of tomorrow?” June asked. “I can intervene.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“You’re not gonna lose, you’ll do fine.”
“No, I’m gonna lose now, and he’s gonna be in the stands, and —”
“Baby you are being so dramatic,” June said with a smile. “I can fly down, it’s not a big deal. Especially if you’re hell bent on getting an ER trip and last place.” There was a few more back and forths between them before they exchanged their I love yous, even if Vann’s was clipped with annoyance.
—
Like it always did, there was something of a crowd around her while she clicked around the Dickies arena. Dressed to impress was her usual status, and she was wearing a more casual dress with a worn jean jacket that had Richmond embroidered down the back and little pearls and stitched into the shoulders. She wasn’t really paying attention to the crowd that was snapping photos as she made her way into the stands where she spotted her parents.
Sneaking up on them, if it was even possible, her father’s eyes went to her and she saw the ghost of the smile. Asking, “What are y’all doing here?” Her voice made her mother’s head turn around and McKenzie beamed at the sight of her daughter.
“Watching our son in law clean up at this rodeo,” her mom said with a smile. “I hadn’t forgotten how good he is at this.” Her mom seemed to puff out her feather with pride. June bit her lip, because while her father wasn’t a Vann Richmond fan, ever, her mom just adored Vann. McKenzie’s eyes went back to Dalton and then June. “It was your father’s idea.”
June’s eyes when to her father, who was standing, arms crossed, just watching his daughter and wife chat and then eyes going back to riders warming up.
“Hey, Daddy,” June said. It was the first time she’d talked to him since their fight last year.
“Hey, Junebug,” he answered back. He paused for a moment and then shifted. “We should probably, go somewhere to talk, June.” His voice was mellow. June nodded. Her father showed up, this was his way of coming to terms with it.
They started to make their way down into the pits, and June flashed her pass to the security who knew her entirely too well already. Vann was doing his own thing, this was his job and she tended to just come say hello and then leave him be until it was time to be around. “Tried to not bother him much,” her dad said after a minute of walking slowly down through the stock area.
“It was your idea, then?” June asked, her head tilting to look up at her father.
“Yeah,” her father said with a slow drawl. “Saw he was on the bracket, figured I’d come on up here and watch my son in law do what he does.” He paused for a second. “Tried to call him. Wanted to... you know.” Apologize, June thought to herself, even the word was hard to say for her dad. She was looking at her father, and again she was hit over the head with how similar her husband and her father where with holding a grudge and being stubborn about it.
“He isn’t the type to pick up the phone for people he doesn’t want to talk to,” June said.
Her father grunted in agreement.
“Dad, I...” June sighed. “I’m not sure he’s gonna ever forgive you or like you.” Actually, she was sure he wouldn’t, but she was hopeful he might come around in a decade or two.
“Don’t need his forgiveness.” Dalton said and leaned up against a stock fence, looking at some of the bulls. “I do need my daughter’s forgiveness, though. I’ve missed you, Junebug.”
June gave him a look. “You really miss me or did Mom threaten you and complain so much that you’re tired of it.”
Her father coughed a laugh at that, and he nodded, “Both. Even if your mother is always the driving force to makin’ me do things I mostly don’t wanna do, but things that need to be done.” He sighed again, getting more serious. “I don’t want her to miss things... I don’t want to miss things, important things, that are happening in your life because of... a mistake that I did.”
June stayed silent for a long minute. There wasn’t going to be an easy fix to this, or ever a fix. Vann didn’t like and wouldn’t ever forgive her dad. There was nothing that could be done to make that better, and her father wasn’t the type to really consider Vann’s cold indifference toward him as a slight. He liked to not be talked to or be forced into conversation, and he only liked to talk about the ranch, cows, and horses.
“June,” her father looked at her. Her eyes went back to him instead of staring at a bucking horse. It wasn’t the one Vann drew.
“Yes?”
“I just want you to be happy,” he said. “I thought I’d know what would make you happy, I thought I was gonna... not make you go through what your mom had to go through with me, but I just want you to be happy. I’m sorry I got into the middle of it. I shoulda... trusted you. You’re like your mother, she’s always been smarter than me.”
June smiled softly. “Thank you, Dad.”
“You know, he’s uh, he’s pretty damn good at all this,” her dad said with a smile. “Can’t believe you didn’t tell me how good he was at it,” he said with a small smile.
“Oh my god,” June said with a roll of her eyes. “You think he just like, lucked his way into the NFR?”
“I just always thought you were the better half of him, so I just attributed it back to you,” he said with a slight laugh and a shake of his head.
“He says the same thing, but not when it comes to this. This is all him, I like how he gets when he’s here. He’s happier here, he’s always been ambitious, so he’s just...” June didn’t know how to describe it. Vann needed a goal in front of him, and he was hyper focused on the comeback this year. “He’s just kicking ass,” June said with a laugh.
They had started to walk back toward the arena already.
“He’s gonna win this thing, I think,” her dad said with a nod.
“He’s gonna win the whole season,” June said with a nod. “No doubt about that.”
IF SHE GIVES ME HALF A CHANCE / self para
when / march 2017|
where / backstage to the san antonio rodeo
featuring @vannrichmond
The crowd was still screaming her name when she stepped off the stage. Some time ago, the high she got off performing had faded away. She could turn on and off the performer in her, and she felt her real personality settle back over her. Her heels clicked as she walked backstage, a thousand people talking to her and the words blurring by. She had a pen in her hands and was signing things as she made her way to her dressing room.
She’d barely gotten the door shut when Morgan came bursting through the door. “June,” he said with a grin. “Don’t bother getting undone. We’re going out.”
June paused, she was about to take an earring out. Her eyes drug to the clock. It was the early sort of late. “Where?” she asked.
“Nowhere he’ll be, don’t worry. Got a buddy who has a place.”
June shook her head and swiped her clutch and nodded to the door. “Alright, then.”
“I want to stop at this hole in the wall first.”
She would be overdressed but whatever. Wasn’t like she was in the mood to change, and she could use a drink. She couldn’t shake the sour taste in her mouth from walking by him, a girl under each arm. She looked through him, he winked, and she pretended to not acknowledge his existence — even if she wanted to smack that cowboy hat off his head.
“I could use a drink, Morgan.” She said, her own way of saying hurry up and lead. He paused for a second and dug through her trunk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “How’d that get in there?”
“I been stashing shit in your trunks for like a year now.”
“Unbelievable.”
Yet, he was twisting off the cap and taking a slug before he handed it to her. “Incredible night.” June was tipping the bottle back when she remembered that this was technically his first stadium he’s opened for.
She didn’t answer. She was trying to let the whiskey work out the kinks in her mood. The anger. The annoyance. With a hand, Morgan swept around her, steering her with the hand on her back.
—
When the phone rang, she knew who it was. This was the game they played. He’d get drunk, he’d call her, and she’d answer because she always did. He’d call her for other reasons, slurring his words, but it ended in her feeling a type of way, thinking about taking him back, and in the morning she’d be bombarded with photos of him and some random girl and she’d feel stupid.
June was perched on the corner of the billiard table. She liked Morgan’s friends enough. The whiskey was good and tilted it up to her lips. She let it ring a few times before the alcohol and petty had her picking up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he drawled back. She couldn’t tell if it was loud or not, it was loud in this house. The boys were bullshitting around, singing bar tunes, making up the lyrics. When they sang a line about her, her head snapped to them and she grinned.
“What is it, Vann?” She wasn’t really in the mood for this game he liked to play.
His name got the attention of Morgan, who rolled his eyes. “Hang up the phone,” he shouted, like a middle schooler who shouted hello to your mother when she called.
There was a pause. Whatever Vann was gonna say was caught off guard by other voices. “Thought you looked good.”
“Hang up the damn phone, June,” now his friend joined in.
“Why they telling you to hang up?” Vann asked.
“Everyone saw the display you put on,” June shrugged. “Seems like you ain’t need me, you’re plenty busy with your layovers.”
“June,” Vann started.
“No, Vann, it was a good performance. I’ll enjoy all the photos I get tagged in. I’d say don’t worry about it, but I know you’re not.”
Morgan stood up, and sauntered over to where she was perched. He was drunk too. Sighing, and resting next to her he said, “You ain’t even with him, quit fighting him on the phone. Hang up, and we’ll play some pool.”
“I gotta go,” June said.
“June—“ whatever he was gonna said was cut off with her hanging up.
June’s head felt slow with the whiskey she drank, she looked at Morgan for a long moment and he looked back. “You’ve got him some kind of fucked up, you know.” His drawl was thick when he said it.
“He isn’t losing any sleep,” June shrugged. He wasn’t. He called when he was drunk because that’s what he did. He called. She answered. She didn’t really ever question it. It was just what they did.
“What’s the deal with you when it comes to him?”
“You’re looking at it.” He called, she answered, she felt stupid. What else was new? He had a good way of making her feel dumb, making her feel like he was playing her. She bristled against the thought. It was another chink in the armor, because a week ago she was the drunk one telling him she loved him and him telling her that he would come to her hotel.
Morgan’s hand slipped to the other side of her, his forearm resting against her hip for a moment before his hand went to her hip. It clicked, then, how close he was. Just a tilt of her head, and she could’ve kissed him. June scooted off the table, putting distance there, her stomach lurching. A clear indication of the word no without embarrassing either of them. She shook her head, too, the noise of the house seemed to still. “I’m gonna go back. You enjoy being with your friends. I need to rest my voice.” An excuse, but he wasn’t an asshole so he let her have it.
“Okay, you’ll be safe?”
“Yeah, Denny’s outside waiting anyway.”
“Okay, just... uh, tell me when you’re back?”
“Mhmm,” she said and was already walking out the door. Walking out to the drive and nodded to her driver. “Can you take me back to the hotel, Denny?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
He opened the door for her and she got in, settling into the backseat. The overwhelming sadness hit her then. Tires churned on the road as they drove in silence and June bit her lip, trying to stop the tears from welling up. This wasn’t the first time this happened. It just was something of the nicest way it happened. She something of knew that she was open season since the break up. People she considered to be just friendly, men who she thought were just nice, it was a prelude to them waiting and trying to make a move. Usually it was a little more aggressive, they confused her being nice to liking them and then she was some sort of prize to be had now.
This one hurt a little more. Mostly because she thought he really was a friend. All the fights her and Vann had over him, in particular. How nice he was during the events to her when Vann bailed and she had to go alone. He had seemed respectful and sympathetic, but apparently it seemed like that was just out of respect. Which made him, well, like everyone else. The overwhelming loneliness took stock in her and she started to cry.
Denny looked into the rearview. “Ma’am? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Denny. Just a rough night. I’m tired is all.” Tired of feeling like this. Lonely. She was lonely feeling when she was with Vann there at the end. She was lonely feeling now as she realized she didn’t have close friends, she had men who were waiting on her to be single to make a move. They didn’t actually care it was just all part of this long game. This was the cost of it all, she supposed. The overwhelming loneliness.
“A drop in the bucket.” He said simply. Sure, it was probably a lot, they were looking at things in excess of a million dollars, which was ridiculous to him, he hated Georgia, he didn’t want to live here, but if she did, that was that. Easy math, two percent was more than the average person made a year. June however, didn’t play that game. “Yeah I know.” He said, because the houses on the places she was picking weren’t places he could necessarily see her in. “You know, you can also build whatever building outside too?” Arguably cheaper than fixing a house, he knew how she worked, and they’d be living in her current house for a year until the other one was what she liked. But by that point, it would have been easier to just start from scratch. She said his name and his brow rose, “I know.” He nodded, “but I ain’t really– looking.” He was still having a hard time coming to terms with the whole, whats mine is yours and whats yours is mine. She was looking at houses that were out of his tax bracket, and it was her money. She could get what she wanted. It wasn’t their money, not to him.
“Nah,” he started, a smirk growing on his face as she winked but did what he’d asked anyways, “I think it’s just half.” He said, watching her way more than he should have been, only for her to be back at the start and he hadn’t been looking at the horse at all. “You don’t look at that annoyed.” A hand went to the small of her back, pulling her closer so he could press a kiss to her lips. “You seem fine.” The corners of his mouth pulled upwards into a devil may care smirk, “but uh–” He continued, “you’re gonna have to do that again.” He shrugged, “I didn’t pay all that much attention to the horse.”
—
Every once in while, she could read his mind. About a decade together and she’d learned his less is more language better than most. “Okay, but this doesn’t work at being ours if we don’t get something you like too, so like, you gotta. We could build something, if the land is right. And you gotta get over the my money being mine, I beg of you.” It was weird, and it didn’t make her feel good that he was adverse to even pretending like it existed for something that was theirs. If he wanted to buy like, a new bass boat, with her money that only he’d use, she could understand this. But this was their house. Theirs. “Plus, all the songs that charted were about you anyway, so get over it. Let’s get a place we like, and then if we hate it in five years, we’ll buy another one.” She waved a hand. It would earn her an eye roll.
“It’s all and a half. You love me more than you know what to do with, admit it,” she said with a grin and tugged on his belt gently. “I’m not, right now I’m just fine and dandy. While I know there are things you’d like to hear, I know better than to bring them up because you, my sweet man, don’t know when to not joke and there lies the problem.” She gently poked her thumb into the spot above his buckle and was met with muscle. She almost forgot he’d been working out that hard. “You gonna watch him again, or me, because if you want that runway show, he’s fine, and we should get back home,” June grinned at him.
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