I looked at the vanity again, at the way the wood glowed in the sunlight, and felt something settle in my chest. Like a piece of Nana had come back down from the attic where it didn't belong and returned to the land of the living where it did.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For helping with all this. I know it was boring as hell."
"It wasn't boring. It was..." He paused, searching for words. "It was important. Getting to see where you came from, who you were before. It helped me understand you better."
"I’m not that complicated."
"You absolutely are. But that’s not a bad thing."
We stood there in my room, covered in dust and sweat, and I looked at this man who’d been a boy I knew a lifetime ago. He looked different now—taller, broader, more solid. But his eyes were the same. That same earnest blue that had followed me around the ranch twelve years ago, asking questions about everything.
Maybe he really had come back. Maybe he’d been trying to come back this whole time, and I’d been too busy protecting myself to see it.
"Come on," I said, breaking the moment before it could become something I wasn't ready for. "We’re both disgusting and it’s almost dinner time. Go shower before Pops makes you sit on the porch."
"That happened one time!"
"You smelled like you’d died. He was being generous letting you on the porch."
"I had fallen in the manure pile! It was an accident!"
"Exactly. Shower. Now."
He laughed and headed to his room, and I stood there alone with Nana’s vanity, the photo album still in my hands.
I opened it one more time, looking at that last picture. At twelve-year-old me and twelve-year-old Beau, both smiling like we had all the time in the world.
We hadn't known that summer would be our last. Hadn't known that everything was about to change. But maybe that was okay. Maybe not knowing was what made those summers magic—we just lived them, fully and completely, without worrying about what came next.
Maybe I could do that again. Just for one summer. Just to see what happened.
I set the album on the vanity, right where Nana used to keep her hairbrush, and headed for my own shower.
Tomorrow, I’d wake up at 5:30, do the morning chores, teach Beau something new he’d probably fuck up at first but eventually get right.
And maybe—just maybe—I’d stop waiting for him to leave and start letting him stay.
Even if it was just for the summer.
Even if it ended the way everything else did.
At least this time, I’d know it was coming.
WINNIE
The Creak
Pawhuska, Oklahoma
15h00
"I thought if I could touch this place or feel it / This brokenness inside me might start healing"
- Miranda Lambert
***
It was Saturday, and the Oklahoma sun was beating down with a vengeance, like it had a personal vendetta against anyone foolish enough to be outdoors.
