Rose woke Grace just before eight. Her daughter grumbled, pleaded, and eventually gave in to the inevitable when Rose reminded her that she needed to discuss the internet with Chad.
"Can we dye our hair today? I think I have picked out the style I want," were her daughter's first words as she plopped down in a chair at the kitchen table.
Rose turned the dial on the microwave. She had made Grace a plate and put it in there before cleaning up the kitchen and going outside to help Chad with the chores. She rubbed the red marks on the back of her hand, reminding herself that she had to get quicker grabbing those eggs. After that experience, it might take a bit of time before Rose was ready to tackle this milking business.
The dinging of the microwave broke through her reverie. She used the oven mitten, which also looked homemade, to place the plate on the table in front of her child, whose nose was already in some game or YouTube video. "Be careful. The plate is really hot."
Grace nodded but did not speak as she reached for the fork. Rose took a glass from the cupboard; she was rapidly learning her way around this kitchen. She poured some orange juice from the carton in the fridge and placed that next to the plate.
Rose was uncertain where to begin. As tough as the past few months had been for her daughter, this sullen young woman was not the person that she had raised her to be. Was she making excuses for her child? Perhaps some of this was merely typical teen angst?
That was something she had no experience with. In all her almost four decades on this planet, she had rebelled just once.
But was playing the role of the 'good girl' really what she wanted for her daughter? Look where it had gotten her. Unquestioning obedience to authority was not always such a good thing, she had learned. Still, pouting and petulance were not either. So, where did that central road lie?
She turned as she heard the back door open. Red dust coated Chad's jeans and shirt. His hands were dirty. Rose could even see sweat beading on his brows. In short, he was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.
"Good morning." He walked to the kitchen sink, washed his hands, and pulled a glass from the cupboard, running cold water into it.
Rose watched as his Adam's apple moved up and down in the strong column of his throat as he drained the glass. Oh, she wished she had even one of those toys from her nightstand in Houston. Because she was sure that she could never find the courage to ask this man to order more.
He rinsed the glass and put it on the drainer. Then he turned back towards them, leaning against the old porcelain sink. "I said, good morning, Grace."
"No, you said, good morning. How was I to know you were talking to me?" Her daughter lifted her head from the tablet. Green eyes met green eyes, and both had that same smile as if truly taking the measure of an adversary for the first time.
He chuckled and moved away from the kitchen sink, coming to take a chair across the table from their daughter. "Fair enough. But we all have some things to discuss. Would you mind putting that thing away at the table, please?"
Grace stared at the man for a long moment, then she glanced at her mother, but in the end, she laid the iPad on the table next to her barely touched plate. "Okay, so here it comes. Lay down the law to the kid time."
"There's a reason we have laws and rules. They keep us safe. They make it easier for us all to live together," Chad answered.
"Justice is nothing more than the advantage of the stronger."
Rose had trouble suppressing the smile that played at the corners of her lips. Her daughter often surprised even her.
Chad did not bother as that hearty laughter boomed off the slightly yellowed kitchen walls. "You know how to quote Plato. These days anyone with the internet can."
"Plato wrote Republic, but that quote comes from Thrasymachus.," Grace's stare was as stalwart as her father's.
"Ah, yes, but to render to each his due."
While this game was certainly interesting, it was getting them nowhere. Rose held up her hand, "We can have the Philosophy 101 class this afternoon. For now, let's focus on what needs to get done. Internet, first. Grace, did you look at those brochures that your..." She barely caught herself before the word 'father' came out.
She inhaled and brought her third cup of coffee of the morning to her lips. "Did you look at the information Chad gave you last night?" She finished more calmly, or at least it appeared that way.
Her daughter looked from first her face to Chad's then back again before nodding her head.
"And?" Rose demanded, feeling her doubts and insecurities arise.
But it was not necessary. The two of them focused on that one thing, while Chad questioned their daughter about specifics, and about her thought process, in the end, he shrugged his shoulders and looked Grace in the eye.
"Alright, I know next to nothing about any of this stuff. Heck, I can barely manage the breeding spreadsheet. I meant it when I said that the final decision is yours, Grace." The stare down resumed, "But with that privilege comes responsibility. Our choices always have consequences. So, if we go with the faster satellite stuff, then you can't complain if, or more likely when, it goes down."
Grace nodded and held out her hand, "Fair enough, old..."
"I'll have you know I ain't that old. I can still hold my own against most men in a fair fight." He sighed and looked at her before continuing, "Speaking of which, one of the stipulations your Mama asked for when she agreed ya'll stay here was that I teach both of you some basic self-defense. You good with that?"
Her daughter beamed like the sun on a bright Texas summer's day, "Hell, yeah."
"Young lady," Rose chastised.
