On the far side of the cemetery, near the tree line, I found them. Their graves sat side-by-side with identical headstones.
Kevin and Naomi Moore.
Mama and Daddy were something special. Had undying love for each other. Daddy was the romantic one, Mama “his brain.” His words, not mine. He knew how to break through her toughened exterior and melt her in his hand. She’d never give him the pleasure of admitting it, but she’d be a lost kitten without him. And he’d be even worse off without her.
Daddy was always the one for emotions and dramatic flair, so I don’t know how much of this story is true. But he said Mama saved his life. According to him, at twenty years old he was face down in a ditch, drunk as a lord, and Mama pulled him out, slapped him in the face, and made him choose between her and the alcohol. Said it was the slap that pushed him onto the straight and narrow. Mama would snicker and smack his chest when he told that story, so I have my doubts. The story sounds very Mama-esque though, so you never know.
When Daddy died, a big part of Mama died, too. She stuck it out for me. I guess that’s why she was so rushed to get back to him after she lost me. I got a mental image of them hand and hand on the streets of gold. They were good parents. Not perfect of course, but the best a kid could ask for. I blew out a breath that was making my chest hurt and blinked hard.
If I could achieve their kind of love one day, I’d consider my life well lived.
There was so much I needed to say. I glanced over my shoulder, feeling foolish for talking to headstones, but needing to get everything off of my chest. I ran my fingers through my hair then pocketed my hands. My voice was tight. “Hey Mama and Daddy, I miss you both a lot. Coming home didn’t feel right without you.” I cleared my throat and scanned my surroundings once more. “Especially you, Mama. You’d both hate to see who I am now. I wish—I wish more than anything for both of you to be proud of me.”
I separated the flowers between their vases and ran my hand across the top of each stone. Coming here didn’t make me feel better. The weight of loneliness pressed into my chest once again. My parents didn’t even know the truth. Mama went to her grave thinking her son had gone off the rails. Nothing I could do would ever fix that.
I’d do anything to sit at the table with them one more time. I’d tell them everything, that’s for sure. I wished I’d had that chance.
I lifted my t-shirt to wipe the moisture off my face. Shame overwhelmed me and I turned to go, but a realization pulled me back.
The chance to set the record straight was right here, right now.
They may not hear, but it would make me feel better. My pulse kicked up a notch as I turned back to Mama and Daddy, and eased down into the grass between their resting places. Valiant turned a few circles in the grass and settled beside me. I dug my fingers into his hair.
At first, it felt weird rehashing stuff. But I started at the beginning. I told them all the secrets I’d kept with Gracie, what her father did, how I got involved, and what really happened that night. As I talked, the awkwardness melted away. I told them about my time in Riverbend and how badly I missed Mama’s visits when she was gone. Then I told them about life in Nashville and Jules. I talked about Jules for a long time. About how much she would’ve liked Mama’s cooking and how my feelings for her were intense and unexpected. How she saved my life, holding on tight when I was trying to let go. I wept again rehashing that part. Mama and Daddy didn’t mind. They made good listeners.
A whole hour and a half went by with me chatting into the breeze. The truth spilled out of my mouth like a spigot on full blast. I talked and talked until my voice cracked with exhaustion. The tears had dried up, and I talked as if Mama and Daddy were there in the flesh. I imagined them on their porch rockers, giving me advice.
When I stood and walked back to the truck, a strong, warm breeze pushed me forward. The burden didn’t press so far into my spirit. My shoulders sat a little higher and my chin lifted. I even waved goodbye.
* * *
I pulled under the carport right as Danny exited the Kirkfield’s home next door. He crossed the grass between our houses. “Patrick—well, I’ll be darned! Didn’t expect to see hide nor hair of you for a while.”
Seeing old neighbors was something I actively avoided, but Danny was different. He was like a grandpa to me. I adjusted my polarized glasses to hide my reddened eyes.
“Hey, Danny,” I held out my hand for a shake, and he pulled me in for a grizzly hug. He was a big ol’ boy—strong as an ox and never rested a day in his life.
He clapped me on the back a few times. “Been a minute, boy.”
“It certainly has.”
“You staying out of trouble?”
I pocketed my hands and kicked at the loose gravel on the drive. “Trying every day.”
“That’s good. That’s good.” He squinted as he fished his lighter out of his pocket. “Look more alive than the last time I saw ya.”
“Feel more alive.”
“How’s freedom?” He took a long draw.
“Hard at first. A lot easier now.” Valiant barked from inside the truck. “Oh! Almost forgot about my new buddy.” I let him out, and he ran up to Danny, eager to make a friend.
“Well, that right there’s a mutt if I ever saw one.” He leaned down, scrubbing Val behind the ears. “Hey there, ya old thing.” Danny groaned as he stood upright, and Valiant darted around the front yard sniffing and leaving his scent.
“A dog, huh?”
“To stave off the loneliness.”
