Something clicked into place inside me.It was something I had dreamed of and imagined a million times but never dared hope.
I was home.The land had accepted me back.I felt it inside my bones, and a settling crept up on me slowly, like it was afraid to startle me for fear that I’d react.
I didn’t.I just breathed and let it coat my soul.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Brand and Abey both.“I’m sorry I promised things I didn’t know how to give.”
Brand came closer, looking in my eyes, trying to decide if he could trust me.He probably thought he could trust me four years ago and look what that had gotten him.
“Before I see Merv and Stu, I wanna tell you both that I’m home.I’m not leavin’, even if it’s hard to stay.I’m not here to take Stu from Bax and his wife.I’m just here.I wanna know y’all again, this time sober, and I want to earn my place in the family again, if that’s even possible.”
Tilly whined at my feet, looking up at my brother like she was begging for me.
“Of course it’s possible,” Brand said.“We love you.We’ve missed you and worried about you.I’m glad you’re here.”He took the last few steps separating us and wrapped his arms around my back.I couldn’t help my reaction; I clung to him.To his forgiveness and acceptance, and I clung to the hope that we could be brothers again.Quietly, he said, “Give Bax time.Give him space and go slow with Stu.He’ll come around.”
“I will.”
Abey joined our hug from the outside, but I pulled her between us so we could squish her in the middle like we had when we were kids.She laughed and squirmed to get free, but that just made us hug harder, until she reached up on her toes, maneuvered her arms around my shoulders, and held on tight.
No matter the division in our family, the way our father held me separate from my brothers and sister, the way he spent his life dismissing me— With my siblings, I never felt different.When it was just us, Bax, Brand, Abey, and me, I had always felt accepted.
As Brand backed up to allow us the moment, Abey whispered in my ear, “I’m so happy you came home.It hasn’t been right here without you.”
And that was when my tears began to fall.
Tilly and Zephyrchased Abey’s truck as she drove Brand and me to Merv’s house, and he explained that he’d driven back to California to adopt the dogs from the couple I’d worked for, the Coulters, after I disappeared and left them without a dog trainer.They’d given me a place to live and a job when no one else showed me kindness because I was a four-time rehab flunky and I’d been in jail.I’d known my brother had adopted the dogs.Brenda Coulter told me when I went to ask her forgiveness for bailing on her and her husband when they had been depending on me.
The Coulters offered their forgiveness, but I still had a lot of amends left to make to a lot of people.
Merv’s house wasn’t much more than a mile away from Brand’s, and when we got there, the dogs flopped in the grass in front of the house next to a water bucket left there for them.Tilly inched toward it on all fours, slopped up half the volume, and then rested her big head on the rim in case she decided she wanted more.Another dog, a German Shepherd, came trotting from the opposite direction.He sniffed Zephyr and Tilly and then lay between them with his head on his paws, as if settling in for a long babysitting session.
The new house Brand had built for Merv was beautiful.Rich, deep blue and set against the stark mountain in the background, it was exactly the kind of place I’d always dreamed for my mother.She lived in a run-down trailer for years after our joke of a father died, and I hated that place.It looked on the outside like I had felt on the inside, busted up and pathetic, and I’d known Merv deserved better.
A better house and a better son.
For a long time, I was angry and bitter at Brand for being able to give our family what I knew I never could.Now, I knew that what he’d given them was a blessing.Just like whatever it was that I would give them.I’d never be rich; anything I had to offer couldn’t compare monetarily, but that didn’t mean my worth was less than my brother’s.
It was just different.I was different, and I knew now that was okay.
Not that coming home again would be easy.I wasn’t under any false impressions about that.I’d left messes in my wake since I was fifteen years old, and it would take more than a little?—
“Son?”Merv appeared on her porch, and the screen door clacked closed behind her.Abey had been right; our mama was already crying, her eyes red and puffy.“Dixon?Is that you?”
“Yeah, Mama,” I said as I got out of the truck, reaching back in to grab the flowers I’d brought for her from the dash, and I walked slowly toward my mother.God, how she’d aged.Her hair was all silver now, and I could see the years passed on her face like a road map to her heartaches and joys.“It’s me.”
She nodded.“You look different.”
I climbed the stairs somberly, like a funeral procession to a grave, but I held the bouquet out toward her, even though I knew a handful of daisies couldn’t fix what I’d broken, or what she had.
“So do you.”
She patted her hair.“I’m old.”
“You’re beautiful, Mama.You always have been and you always will be.These are for you.They ain’t much but?—”
The flowers fell to the porch as Merv flung herself into my arms.I wrapped them around her shoulders and held her close while she cried.
Between sobs, she mumbled, “I’m sorry.I prayed for this day, and I promised myself and God I wouldn’t blubber, but I can’t help it.I’m so thankful to have you home.You don’t know what it’s been like without you.”
