“Cool.God, I still can’t get over how different you look.Big change from the last time we met.”
“You mean when I abandoned my kid in your cabin?”
She smiled, but pity laced her tone.“Yeah.”
“Well, I am different.I’m sober, four years now.”
“Good,” she said, nodding.“That’s good.Um, are you here to see him?The school year just started, so he’s still there.”
“Stu?I’d love to see him, but I wouldn’t do that without talkin’ to you and Bax first.No, I promised Merv I’d come back and let her know where I’m stayin’ and check in.You’re welcome to join us.”
Bea snorted.“You’re on your own there, captain.That sea’s a little too choppy for me.I have to get back to work anyway.We got some mail up at the house for your mama, so I dropped it off on my lunch break.”
Man, I really liked her.And now I had a clue where Stu had learned how to be funny.Bax hadn’t influenced that particular personality trait; my brother was about as funny as a paper plate.
“Thank you,” I said.
“For?”
“For lovin’ my kid.For teachin’ him everything he knows.For bein’ his mama.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
“I know you didn’t, but I’m still grateful you did.”
“You’re welcome.”She nodded over her shoulder toward where Merv had just opened her screen door and stood on her porch.“Good luck in there.”
“Thanks.”
“By the way,” Bea said as she pulled open her truck door, “Stu taught me everything I know too.He and Bax and Athena gave me a family and made me a mom.So did you when you brought Stu here, so I’m a little bit grateful to you too.”
Bea’s unexpected grace filled me up in places I never knew were empty, and I let it lift me up and carry me toward a hard conversation.She waved out her window as she drove away, and I smiled.It didn’t feel forced or fake.Bea was real.Her words were genuine, and I knew I could trust her.
“I’ve been waitin’ for you to come back,” Merv said when I turned and headed toward her.
“I said I would, but I s’pose you’re not used to me doin’ the things I promise.”
She tsked her tongue and waved me inside, and I followed.She had always done that, spoke in hushes and gestures so that I was never sure what she really meant.
“Is that not true, Mama?”
She sat in a plush, sage-green recliner in front of her big-screen TV.“I reckon it is true.”
“Then what was the noise you just made?”
“I just don’t like hearin’ you talk about yourself like that.You were a good boy.”
Okay then, guess we’re just gonna jump right in.
“When I was little, I was a good boy.When I was a teenager, I wasn’t so good.And as an adult, I’ve let you down in many different ways.I’m not a boy now, and I don’t want or need you to treat me like one.”
Merv froze and stopped her chair from rocking.Her knees popped.The sound echoed around the quiet house, and it was then I noticed how mangled her arthritic hands had become.
“Listen, I’m not here to blame anybody for anything.I made my own poor choices in life.But I’ve had to learn how to hold myself accountable, and I’d like you to try to do the same.I want you to expect good things from me, not excuse the bad things I’ve done.”
“That’s fine, I guess.”
“No, Merv.It’s not‘fine.’I’m tellin’ you what I need.You can give me what I need, or you can decide not to, but you should know that sobriety is my priority.Stu is my priority.Our relationship”—I wagged my finger between the two of us, but the hurt look on her face told me she knew exactly what I meant—“and the dysfunction that came with it was so unhealthy.And the way I dealt with it, the way I manipulated youandthe way you manipulated me, helped me stay sick, so if you can’t get on board, then I’ll have to distance myself.”
