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And it taught me that you shouldn’t make promises to someone you claimed to love because there was bound to be something about them that made them unlovable.

Or made you unlovable.

Why set them up for the disappointment?

Mama was remembering my daddy too. I could tell by the way her eyes darted everywhere and from the little smile etched into the side of her mouth. Maybe she didn’t remember him telling me that I was shaming our family, that I disgusted him.

That I’d never be his angel again.

Or maybe she did remember. Maybe it was how she still felt. But I knew she wanted me in her life. Still expected me to be. She may not have said it out loud, but she made it clear every time she called me to help her with something or when she’d fix my hair like she had this morning.

I held onto those things. If they were the only things she could give to let me know she loved me, then I’d hold them tight. But why did the familiar burn flare up in my chest when I thought about it?

We parked by the house and climbed out of Devo’s dirty white truck to the sound of my brother whistling from the barn, trying to gain our attention. He waved when I spotted him.

“That’s my brother Bax,” I said as I waved back. Mama was already marching toward him. I grabbed the cooler from the truck bed and led Devo in that direction. “He’s the oldest. I’m the baby.”

“You are?” Devo asked. “I wouldn’t have guessed that. I’m the oldest in my family.”

“Oh, look at you,” I joked. “All big for your britches. C’mon. I’ll introduce you.”

“Lil’ sis, I’m glad to see you,” Bax said when we stepped inside the shade of the barn. “You’re just in time to help me deworm.” He motioned out across the holding pen he’d rounded his ewes into.

I’d always liked how the sheep looked every spring after shearing. Their coats were clean and short and soft. Once the fleece started to grow back, it got dirtier and dirtier every day, and smellier. By this time in the year, they grossed me out. The lambs were always a hoot, though, the way they hopped and bounced around. But Bax’s flock was beginning to dwindle. It had me wondering how long he’d try to keep the farm going. How long till he admitted the truth to himself.

“No, thanks,” I said as I set down the cooler by my feet. “Forgot to wear my sheep-shit outfit today.”

Mama tsked. “Abey.”

Bax laughed, turning his friendly smile in Devo’s direction. “And who’s this?”

She stepped forward with her hand out. “Devo.”

Bax shook it. “Devo? That’s a cool name, like that band from the eighties. That where your parents got the name?”

“No.” She laughed. “I’ve heard that before though. My name’s Devona, but I like Devo better.”

“Me too,” he said.

Bax had a knack for making everyone feel at ease. He’d always had it, and when I was younger, I remembered being jealous of that. I was the tall, lanky closeted lesbian, the one secretly in love with all the women he and his friends used to ogle on the covers of the Playboy magazines they’d hidden out in their forest fort.

But Bax lived to make our mama uncomfortable. He stared at her, daring her to make some rude comment about me bringing a date—who was a woman.

Mama said nothing. She wouldn’t. She believed wholeheartedly that as the eldest son, and with my dad gone, Bax was in charge. She’d do anything he said, and she would never criticize him. Not out loud anyway.

“We brought sandwiches and chips for lunch,” she said innocently, looking around the barn. “Where’s my granddaughter?”

“Athena will be down in a minute. When she found out Aunt Abey was comin’, she had to pull out her muddin’ outfit.” He grinned at Devo. “I hope you came prepared to wreck those clothes.” He nodded at her khaki shorts and white T-shirt, chuckling. “You shouldn’t have worn white.”

“Devo loves to get dirty,” I said, then realized how it sounded. “She’s not afraid of a little mud. Are ya?”

“Not at all,” she said with pink cheeks just as Athena came skidding into the barn. She threw herself at me and wrapped me up in a tight hug.

“Hey,” I said, hugging her back. “How you been, girl?”

“Better now you’re here,” she whispered, looking up at me. God, I ached for her. To lose your mama at such a young age? I wouldn’t have survived that.

I tugged on her light-brown pigtail. “Good. Missed you.”