"Momma, I’m worried about Em. She’s as sore as a bear with a sore paw." She’d snarled at him for the last few events and then had flown to Vegas to spend a girls’ weekend with the clown before coming home and just crashing like a lead balloon. It was Christmastime, time to be all jolly and shit, not weird.
The clown, for fuck’s sake.
"Well, son, were you mean to her?"
"No!" Why was it always his fault? "Hell, we ain’t even had words except that I told her if she didn’t stop puking I was taking her to Doc for heartburn meds. What if she’s got an ulcer, Momma? What if she’s sick?"
His voice was getting louder and he wasn’t proud to admit he was a little shrill.
"I’m not sick, Cotton." Emmy stood in the doorway, wearing a huge t-shirt, her makeup all running from crying.
"Not sick, you giant dork."
She set something down on the table and walked away, leaving it for him.
It was a note and all it said was, "Due in August".
"She’s not sick, Momma. I mean, Granny. I mean, I gotta go."
He needed to find them another stocking. A little bitty one.
After he loved on his girl.
Cotton and Emmy were the first het Roughstock couple, featured in City/Country