“I understand,” she said.“You know, you’re not the only one who’s been goin’ to therapy.”
“Abey mentioned that.I’m glad to hear it.”I sat on the couch, but I couldn’t relax.There was just too much bad blood, and it flowed between Merv and me now, like the churning sea Bea had alluded to.I didn’t belong in my mother’s house.Sometimes I wondered if I belonged anywhere.
There was so much more to say, but the timing didn’t feel right.I’d barely been home a week, and I couldn’t risk upsetting Merv yet, in case she interfered with Stu.
It seemed she wasn’t up to the harder conversation either.“So, how’s Mrs.Ellison’s place?”she asked.
“It’s fine.It’s just a room, but that’s all I need right now.But I got a job.”
“I heard.Devo tells me they hired you up at the community center.”
“Yeah.Abey said Devo works there, too, but I haven’t met her yet.I also took a part-time gig at the vet clinic on the weekends, helpin’ with the animals.”
“That’s nice.I’m happy for you.Why don’t you come for supper Sunday?Everybody will be up at the big house.Athena wants to see you, too, and you could see your son.”
“I might,” I said, “but I’d like to check in with Bax first.Make sure he’s okay with it.”
Merv grumbled something but then started pushing her feet on the floor and rocking her chair again.
“Mama, say what you mean, please.The passive-aggressive bullshit doesn’t do either of us any good.”
“Fine.You’re right,” she said curtly.“I said that Bax needs to get off his high horse, and I’m not ashamed I said it.”
“Bax has every reason to be angry with me.”
“He can be angry if he wants to,” she said, “but I wish he’d try for all our sakes.Most importantly for Stuart’s sake.”
“He’s protectin’ Stu exactly like I asked him to.”
She sighed.“When did you get so level-headed?It’s kinda annoyin’.”
Shrugging, I said, “I dunno about level-headed, but you’re just not used to me sober.”
“That’s true.”She stopped rocking again and leaned forward in her chair.“Dixon, I know I’m not the best at communicatin’ how I feel, but I’m workin’ on that, and I want you to know that I’m so happy you’re home.I’m proud of you, and if havin’ you in my life again means I have to change, I’ll do it.
“For you, I’d do anything.”
The old placehad been repainted and Bax and Bea had added a new wraparound porch, but the house was still the same ugly sunshine-yellow color, like it had been when I was a kid.
I parked between Bax’s blue Ford he’d had for probably ten years and a tricked-out, black RAM, and as my boot touched the dirt beneath my tires, yips and barks filled the air.I heard cows too and sheep.Like I could ever forget the bleating sounds of sheep.
As I walked toward the new barn, I remembered the first time I’d seen it, when it had been newly built, right before I dumped my kid.But I’d hung around before that, with Stu strapped to my chest in a bed sheet, trying to get up the courage to face my family.In the end, I couldn’t do it.I knew how ashamed they were of me and of the mistakes I’d made, but I knew they would love Stu and give him all the things I couldn’t, so instead of facing them, I made sure Stu found his way into trusted hands, and then I ran.
I was ready to face them now, so I hung the second pair of sunglasses I’d bought in the past week from the neck of my T-shirt.The sun had slipped behind heavy rain clouds that cast dark, moving shadows over the land, like silent trolls emerging from their Hell caves.Thunder rumbled far in the distance, and I pictured the ugly ogre that used to inhabit this farm and his big footsteps shaking the leaves off the trees.
But that was make-believe.There were no trolls, no ogre.He was dead, but it surprised me how many times I had to remind myself of that, and it surprised me how, now that I’d come home with a clear mind, stories filled my head again, characters and settings blooming to life easily.
Chuckling, I remembered Nesty laughing at my stories late one night in rehab while we ate hard candies in our bunks, making shit up and trying to do anything we could to distract ourselves from detox.I’d told tales that night of ogres and princesses, of mysterious circus ringmasters and a band of brothers who traveled the West, saving little kids from evil.Nesty ribbed me, told me I was nuts, but whenever he had a bad day or a hard therapy session, he’d beg me to tell my stories.
A fine line existed between make-believe and reality, and trying not to fall on my ass while I walked that line like a tightrope was hard as shit, but it was the thing I needed to master if I wanted to stay sober.
Zephyr and Tilly came bounding in my direction from the northwest field, and my brothers and another guy followed slowly on their horses.When they came closer, I realized the other guy was Rye Graves, Bax’s best friend since they were ten years old.
He dismounted from his horse, tossed the reins over the animal’s back, and then he bounded toward me, too, threw his arms around me, hugged me, and patted me not so gently on my back as Zephyr and Tilly ran circles around us.The German Shepherd sat a safe distance away, watching it all like a silent King’s Guard at Buckingham Palace.
With my hand, I gave Zephyr and Tilly the command to sit and was shocked again when they obeyed.
“Heard you were home,” Rye said.He released me and stepped back, taking in an eyeful.“It’s good to see you.Damn, man.I don’t remember you bein’ this big.Whatcha been eatin’ for breakfast?The hearts of the men who done ya wrong?Fertilizer?”
