Jackson
The house is quiet in the way it only ever gets after bedtime as I tread cautiously down the stairs. My head’s still buzzing from trying to string together something resembling a story for the kids.
I couldn’t do it.
Lately Odessa’s been the one handling bedtime stories, sharing funny moments and fond memories—often embellished with fart sound effects and obvious lies that elicit giggles from her brother. On the nights she doesn’t feel up to it, I read the kids a book.
But tonight Rhett wasn’t having it. He insisted I be the one to tell them a story, and when Odessa tried to tell him she was doing it, the two got into a scrap that made my eye twitch and my palms sweat as I fought the urge to tell the both of them to shut up.
So I agreed to a damn story.
Odessa tucked herself into bed with her arms around that ragged old horse she sleeps with.
And Rhett smugly parked himself right next to me.
I made up a memory from when Rhett would’ve been too young to remember and, truthfully, I think even Odessa was questioning whether it was real or not.
It wasn’t particularly funny and had some serious plot holes, but they stared up at me like I was their entire world.
And in that pretend memory—one I want so badly to be real—they were mine.
I step into the kitchen and consider turning around when I see Austin and Red are hanging out here tonight.
But Kate spots me first and gives me a smile. “Kids asleep?”
I sigh. “Yeah, finally.”
Then I head straight for my empty spot at the table, letting my body go slack in the wooden chair. Austin and Red’s conversation about moving cattle comes to a halt, both of them turning to look at me.
“Barely survive bedtime?” Red asks from across the table.
“They insisted I tell them a real story tonight.” Shaking my head, I grunt. “Which is damn hard when you’re reading from a book missing ninety percent of the pages.”
“Kids don’t even notice, man. I skip pages in Hazel’s storybooks all the damn time.” He cracks open a pistachio from the bowl in the center of the table and pops it in his mouth.
“I don’t know….” I force a breath out through my nose. “It feels like I’m failing them.”
Austin clears his throat at the far end of the table, folding his arms. “You’re not.”
“But it feels that way.”
I’ve found my way back to Kate and thank God for that. But the kids…It feels like they’re drifting off to sea, and I’m still standing on the dock, promising I’ll catch up when I don’t even know how to swim.
Kate slides me a glass of water before taking the seat next to mine. Her cold hand falls to my lap to melt some of the anxiety burrowed in my chest.
“Odessa kept giving me this look tonight like she was trying so hard to be nice about the fact that my story was awful.”
Austin chuckles. “Damn, she must’ve had to work hard at that.”
Laughter ripples gently through Kate, culminating in a tight squeeze of her hand above my knee. “She’s trying to be patient with you. Give you the space to figure things out again.”
“She shouldn’t have to, though.” I scrub my hand over my jaw. “She’s only eight. And Rhett keeps asking if I’m all better yet…. Fuck. I’m trying, but I can’t get there for some reason.”
“It’s only been a few months. They don’t need perfection. They just need you,” Kate says. Austin and Red hum an agreement.
“Yeah, but I feel like I’m not even giving them that. Most of the time, I’m faking my way through fatherhood. I smile, I listen, I say the things I think I’m supposed to say. But I…I don’t feel like their dad.”
Kate flinches. Barely. But I see it. She knew I was struggling with my connection to the kids, but I’ve been following my therapist’s advice and sitting with them even when it’s hard.
Even when watching them color or cheering them on outside while they ride bikes is the last thing I want to be doing.
So on the outside, it probably looks like I’m almost there with them.
I slipped a ring on my finger, promising her that I was ready for all of this. And I am. I want that connection with the kids. I love them, I think, but there’s a gaping, aching hole in my chest whenever I think about Odessa and Rhett, and I have no idea how to mend it.
I run a hand over my face again, ashamed of saying it out loud. But it’s the truth.
“You’re still healing from a brain injury. It’s gonna take time,” Red says to cut the tense silence. “You think any of us know what the fuck we’re doing as parents? Just wait, Aus. You’ll be here freaking out about how to take care of a baby soon enough.”
Austin lifts a brow, clearly not believing that. I’m not sure anything fazes him. Even when I remember the day our mom died, or the glimpses of the past I’ve gotten from the years when we were struggling with the ranch—Austin’s always been the calm, collected, get shit done brother.
“Yeah, but you’ve got the cheat code,” I say. “You remember loving them.”
To my nonsurprise, that lands with a thud, and I regret saying it the moment the last word leaves my lips.
I quickly add, “I didn’t mean it like that. That I don’t love them…I do. I know I do.”
Kate’s hand falls away from my lap and one glance at her glassy eyes has my own burning. Austin and Red are staring wide-eyed, with mouths sewn in thin, straight lines. Nobody’s so much as breathing. Fuck.
I exhale, pushing the heels of my hands against my stinging eyes.
“God, I’m trying. Every damn day, I’m trying.
But Odessa was mine. She was always by my side, right?
That’s what everyone keeps saying. And now…
now I can’t even tell a bedtime story without making her second-guess it.
” A little quieter, through teary eyes and a voice thick with emotion, I say, “I want them to feel like they’re mine. ”
Kate’s hand finds mine, pulling me from the dark thoughts swirling around the way the wind howls outside. When something falls over on the back porch with a loud thunk, we all turn to look at the window out of habit, but no one moves.
“I should get home before that storm gets too bad,” Red says, standing. I’m sure he’s really only leaving to escape the awkwardness of this conversation. Poor guy came over thinking he would be talking about cattle and feed prices with the boss and got saddled with hearing about my shit.
“Thanks for pulling extra weight around here lately, man.” Austin stands, too, and claps Red on the back. “And offering to take on even more after the baby comes.”
Red nods. “No problem. What brothers are for, right?”
I lick my lips and roll them together, mulling that over. An opportunity to feel like I’m useful would be great. “What are you guys doing tomorrow? I can help…. Be good to get out of the house for a bit.”
Austin and Red exchange a glance, and Red shrugs.
“Yeah, I mean…Aus barely even does any ranch work anymore. That’s why he’s getting so soft around the middle these days.
” He dodges the swing of Austin’s arm and looks over to Kate—probably for reassurance that I’m allowed to do physical labor of any kind.
“But you can come with me for the day. I’m sure we can find something for you to do. ”
Don’t love that I’m going to be tagging along and likely given tasks Odessa’s capable of doing. In fact, since tomorrow’s Saturday, maybe we should bring her, too.
Kate leans over to kiss me on the cheek before she starts clearing glasses, and Red grabs one last handful of pistachios. “I’ll be here before six. Think you’re still capable of getting out of bed that early?”
I shake my head with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be ready, you ass.”
The front door closes behind him with a thud, and it’s just the three of us.
Kate hums softly as she rinses the last glass.
I lean back in my chair, letting it take some of my weight.
My head’s heavy, painful fog creeping in like it does every night.
Right now, it’s a gentle reminder to take a heavier dose of medication so I stand a chance of sleeping tonight.
Give it another few minutes, and I’ll have no choice but to basically crawl my way to the bedroom.
With a long, slow sip of water, I let my eyes drift shut for a second.
Long enough to see Odessa’s face when she asked for a story tonight.
That little hopeful smile she tried to hide.
I couldn’t give her what she wanted, not really—but she curled up beside me anyway, like she still believes I will, eventually.
Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe the work will help.
Maybe bringing Odessa along will help spark something in me so I can squeeze my kids tight, kiss them on top of the head, and tell them I love them without feeling like a fraud.
Maybe I’ll be a dad again tomorrow. At the very least, I’m going to try.
—
The next morning I wake to the alarm set on my phone, and I understand Kate’s disdain for the sound now—the loud beep cutting through the peace of sleep is nothing but obnoxious when I’m not waking up for a hot date with my wife. I shut the stupid sound off with a groan.
I move slowly down the hallway to the kitchen where Kate’s dressed already, hair piled on top of her head, coffee mug in one hand while she stands at the island, staring out toward fields drenched from last night’s rain.
Beryl’s next to her, refilling the sugar canister from a bag that seems extraordinarily large for her spindly arms to manage, shooing my younger brother away when he tries to help. Denny rolls his eyes at her, squeezing past to grab a scone from the counter, and notices me.
“Morning, sunshine,” Denny says, chomping down on the scone and quickly sliding his free hand under his chin to try and catch stray crumbs.
I yawn. “Mornin’.”
Kate looks over at me then, and her smile’s a little sleepy. I want to feel that curve of her lips against mine, so I close the short distance between us and kiss her, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“You’re up early,” she says once I’ve had my fill of her—rather, once I’ve had an appropriate amount of her, given the family members and ranch hands loitering in our kitchen.
“You think Red would let me live it down if I slept in?”
Red walks up and grips my shoulder in his massive palm. “Nope, I wouldn’t. You ready?”
Kate tilts her head. “You should have some breakfast first.”
“Nah, I’m okay.” I shake my head. “Is Odessa up yet? I was gonna see if she wants to come with us.”
Just as Kate starts to say she’ll go upstairs to wake her up, Beryl cuts in with an insistence that I eat something before I go out with Red.
The two women’s sentences merge and somehow both of them end up giving me hell for skipping breakfast, so I make a show of grabbing one of the scones and taking a bite.
Appeasing Kate enough that she heads off in search of Odessa, I lean against the counter to enjoy my breakfast.
Today’s a jalapeno cheddar scone, which is a pleasant surprise. I’d say the upside to getting up early is securing one of Beryl’s breakfast treats, since they always go so fast, but she’s been secretly tucking one away for me every day for weeks. I could sleep until noon and still get one.
Kate’s footsteps are slow and light as she saunters away.
A few minutes pass.
And her footsteps are fast and sharp when she comes back.
I straighten before she even speaks.
“She’s not in her room.”