Page 75 of Cattle Stop

“When he was little, he knew the names of each of the chefs here.” Terry nods toward the half wall dividing the seating area from the kitchen. “And he used to be obsessed with watching them throw the dough, like a cat watching the dryer spin.”

“This is all a lie,” Cooper says.

“There’s still a stain on our kitchen ceiling from him chucking dough at it.”

Whit sips at his own water, his eyes on Cooper over the rim of the glass. “The grill at the farm has a permanent circle of burnt cheese,” Whit says.

“Cooper’s calling card.” Terry plucks the soggy straw wrapper from the top of the ice in her glass and deposits it neatly into Cooper’s cup. “We love you so much, Coop.”

Cooper slumps in his seat. “I’m getting mine to go.”

“Now,” Terry says, “tell me all about your summer so far, and don’t leave out any of the good parts.”

Cooper flicks the wet straw wrapper at her. “You mean Sadie?”

“I definitely mean Sadie.”

After lunch, it’s only hotter outside, but Terry still draws Cooper close, cupping his cheeks in her hands, a small, hard smile on her face. “I’m going to have a word with your mother about this.”

“Give her hell,” Cooper mumbles.

“But I’m so glad I got to see you. You’re my favorite stepson, Cooper.”

“You’re my favorite stepmom,” Cooper parrots back, like they always have. My favorite mom, he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut.

Terry leans forward and drops her voice to a whisper. “And I like your young gentleman.”

“Terry.”

“He’s cute and he’s very sweet.”

“C’mon, it’s not like that.”

“Well, he clearly likes you.”

Cooper squirms, but she just chuckles.

“He tolerates me,” Cooper says.

“In that case, I hope you two are having a fun summer ‘tolerating’ each other.”

Cooper wiggles again. “Gross, Ter.”

“I love you.” She kisses his cheek with a loud smack. “Love you, love you, love you, and I’m so happy I got to see you.”

Cooper waves until she’s disappeared into the crowded sidewalk. Then he turns, looking for the closest subway entrance. Enough of the city for today. Cooper wants the dirt and dust of the barnyard and even the damn broken spigot to groan over.

“I thought that was your mom,” Whit says.

“Terry?” Cooper pulls out his metro card. There’s probably enough left on it to get them back to Grand Central. There’d better be, because suddenly the idea of having to punch buttons on a screen and get it to accept crumpled old bills exhausts him. “My stepmom.”

“She picked you up from the farm once.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess. That was ages ago.”

“But you took the train the rest of the time?”

Maybe Whit has a crisp five he’d be willing to throw toward today. Cooper rubs his palm over his forehead. “Yeah,” Cooper says. “Grandpa would drop me off at the station, but I guess the train wasn’t running that day for whatever reason and it was too long a drive for him to make it all the way down here, so Terry had to come up.”