Her home is neat and tidy and looks like it has been decorated the same way for decades.
The couch is short and has a plastic cover. Her oversized recliner sits facing the T.V. as QVC plays. There are framed quotes covering every inch of the walls, some are bible verses, some are about family, some are cross-stitched. The kitchen cabinets and flooring look original and outdated but lightly used.
I let my eyes linger over to the little hutch up against the wall. It’s too formal for the room, but it suits the space. There are white doilies under picture frames with faces I don’t know. Happy people, grumpy children, long limbed teenagers. But there’s one in the back that catches my eye.
“How’s the apartment treating you?” Dollie asks and I spin around like I got caught doing something I shouldn’t have. Or seeing something I shouldn’t have.
“It’s wonderful,” I chirp. “And actually, I was wondering if it is available for a couple months in the fall too. I’m thinking of extending my trip.”
She flicks her eyes over at Tanner then back to me, and smiles. “It’s all yours if you want it.”
“You have to let me pay you rent. I have money, plenty of it?—”
“So do I.” She shakes her head. “It’s sitting empty otherwise and it means more to me that it’s being used than sitting empty. Here, let’s sit at the table. Tell me, how are those sheep doing?”
Tanner laughs. “Well, that farm vet guy came out and said everything is looking good. He thinks there’s only one lamb.”
“I called Colleen and told her, and she said she had no idea it was a male. They were both rescues and she paid someone else to shear them, so she never got close enough to know better,” Dollie tells us. “She has a cow she’s looking to re-home as well if you’re interested.”
“Oh yes!” I say so quickly it almost startles Tanner.
“Yes?” he laughs. “Are you signing me up to get a cow?”
“Why not? We could make butter and sell it and then you could really start your business.”
“Colleen actually already reached out,” he admits. “And I told her we’ll take the cow. There’s a little pasture spot where it can go once I mend the fence.”
“And you didn’t tell me yet?” I press.
“I was going to surprise you and Winnie with it once she got back.” He rubs the back of his neck, almost looking shy. “I already bought a big bow to put on her for you guys.”
The landline begins to ring making Dollie stand and shuffle to the wall mounted receiver. My eyes drift back over to the hutch.
“That picture over there,” I whisper to Tanner. “The pink frame in the back. It looks like the one of you and your father. Not Daniel. Richard.”
Tanner’s eyebrows scrunch together as he looks over his shoulder. And he must spot it because he stands and picks it up but doesn’t move for a long moment.
“Sorry, that was just one of those survey callers.” Dollie shakes her head as she returns, but she comes to a halt at the sight of Tanner holding the framed photo.
“Dollie.” His voice is almost an echo as he turns the frame to her. “This is my father.”
She doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, hands clasped together, and her deep-set eyes now look on the verge of tears.
“Dollie?” Tanner’s voice is questioning and fragile, and I want to do something. Say something. But neither Dollie or I do. “Why do you have a Mother’s Day frame with a picture of you and my father in it?”
35
“He left home at sixteen,” Dollie says.
The three of us are sitting around her kitchen table still, cups of coffee sitting untouched and cold in front of us. Though Tanner is looking at Dollie, he is somewhere in his own head. I keep my hand on his bouncing knee.
“Ricky was so troubled, and my husband, Rich, and I could never figure out why. We switched him to Marnmouth schools early on in hopes the bigger district could give him more help. We took him to church, we tried therapists, we tried wrestling and football to get his anger out, but nothing ever worked. He wouldn’t settle on anything. He wouldn’t settle in general. We gave him a lot of attention. We gave him no attention. We couldn’t figure it out. Then at sixteen, he packed his bags and moved to Wisconsin to be with my sister, Dora. Dora was ready to turn him away on arrival, but I begged her to let him stay because if he wouldn’t be happy with us, then maybe he would be happy there with her. And at least I knew where he was. I knew he was safe.” Dollie dabs her eyes with the tissue Tanner had gotten her. “We didn’t hear a word from him for three years. Thenhe showed up on our doorstep saying Dora kicked him out and that he was back.” The pain has etched itself into her skin over time. The worry of a mother can be seen in her frown lines and sad eyes. “It was like the prodigal son had returned. His father was so happy, and Ricky seemed so happy. But I was so scared he would do it again. Get intoanotherfight. Get arrestedagain. Get caught with drugsagain. Dora wouldn’t tell me why she kicked him out. She just said it wasn’t a good fit anymore. But then after a few months, he came to me and said he was leaving again. Got a job as a trucker. It was the best thing that ever happened to him.”
Tanner flinches next to me.Heshould have been the best thing to ever happen to his father. Not some shitty job.
“He came and went as he pleased. He would stay with us for a day. A week. A month. Then go back driving to Florida. Stay there for a few weeks, sometimes months on end. My husband and I almost considered retiring to Florida so we could see him more, but then Rich passed before we could, and then Ricky stopped coming back home.” She shakes her head as steady tears stream down her cheeks. Tanner, despite himself, reaches over and takes her shaking hands in his equally wavering ones. It’s obvious that comforting her is an instinct, something he has done for years. I blink away the tears in my own eyes. “Tanny, baby, I didn’t know who you really were until you werefifteen. Ricky never told me he got a girl pregnant. I knew Danielle Irwin and I knew she got pregnant young. She would come in, buying baby books and rubbing her belly. I had no idea. When he was up visiting, he would say he was going out to see friends from Marnmouth. He never mentioned a kid. Let alone his own. Your mom started dating Dan Auclair when you were pretty young, nobody really thought too much about it. You’ve always been his boy.”
Tanner clears his throat and wipes his cheek but returns hishand to hers. “Did my mom know who Richard was to you? Did anybody know?”
