Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dixon
Bax bellowed into his cell phone, “You did WHAT?”
When we got back to the house, I heated up Stu’s dinner and sat him at the table with a glass of milk. That seemed like a fatherly thing to do.
And then I hid in the laundry room so Stu couldn’t hear me and called Bax.
“Dixon, I warned you. I fuckin’ warned you!”
“Bax,” I whispered into my cell, “you’re not hearin’ me. He already knew. He brought it up. All I did was confirm the truth. Did you want me to lie to him?”
“Oh, that’s all you’ve done? Right. Just don’t say another word till we get there. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. We’re leavin’ the fairgrounds now.”
It probably should’ve taken Bax and Bea a lot longer to get home, but thirty minutes later, their truck skidded to a stop in front of the house.
Bax’s door sounded like it might fall completely off the frame when he slammed it shut.
And I heard Bea pleading with him to “stay calm” before the screen door clacked against the wall when he threw it open.
“Stuey.” His eyes zeroed in on Stu, and he swept across the room, lifted Stu straight out of his chair, and hugged him so hard, I didn’t think Stu could get a full breath.
“Daddy? I thought I wouldn’t see you till tomorrow. Where’s Athena?”
“She’s still at the fairgrounds. Shaylene’s mama will drive her home later. Are you okay, buddy? You’re not upset?”
“No. Why?” Stu pulled away and patted Bax’s cheek. “I’m okay, Daddy. How’d Athena and Tulsa do? I can’t wait to see ’em do the barrels at the rodeo.”
Bax didn’t say anything, and he sat with Stu in his arms, like letting go might be physically impossible. Bea took the chair next to them, and then everyone looked at me, standing in front of their fridge like a deer in headlights.
“I didn’t say a word. I swear. He asked me.”
“Stuey, honey,” Bea said, caressing her hand over Stu’s messy helmet hair, and she smoothed away a streak of dirt on his cheek with her thumb, “how did you find out about Uncle Dixon?”
He shrugged, looking just a little bit guilty.
“Stu, we need to know.”
He sighed. “Sydney’s mama said my daddy was hot. And Mrs. McNamara at school agreed, and she said ‘That Bax Lee sure is one fine cowboy.’”
Bea’s face turned purple. “She said what?”
“That’s what Sydney said, a-and then Sydney’s mama said, ‘No, not Bax. I meant Dixon. He’s Stu’s real dad.’” Poor Stu looked perplexed, like he couldn’t figure out why his family was so upset about something another five-year-old had said. “Sydney told me at recess.”
Bea looked like she might be ready to murder both women. “Oh my God! I’m callin’ the principal right now.”
“Bea, just wait,” Bax said. He pulled Stu’s face back to his. “What else did you hear?”
“Well, after dinner the other night, when Avery came over?” Bax nodded.
“That night, you were readin’ me my book before bed, Mama.
’Member? But I had to potty, and on my way back, I heard daddy talkin’ on his phone in your bedroom.
You were talkin’ to Uncle Rye, Daddy, and you said Uncle Dixon’s name, and then you said, ‘He better not try to take Stu away from us.’ And then you said, ‘Oh, shut up, Rye. God, your sunshiny dispolition pisses me off.”
Bea corrected him before she realized what she was correcting or that he’d cussed. “Disposition.”
Stu nodded. “That’s what I said.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the truth,” Bax said. “Grown-ups always say stuff like this, but we really were tryin’ to protect you.”
“It’s not right to lie, Daddy. You told me that.”
“No, you’re right. It’s not okay to lie. It’s also not very nice to eavesdrop.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means listenin’ to people when they’re havin’ a private conversation.”
“Oh.” Stu looked at the floor. “Am I in trouble?”
Bax and Bea shook their heads. “No, Stuey,” Bea said, “you’re not in trouble, but do you have any questions about what you and Dixon talked about? What did he tell you?”
Stu looked at the ceiling and tapped his index finger against his chin, and I tried not to laugh, but he was just so damn cute that I had to fight it hard.
“He said that he was there when I was born. Did you know I was born in California? And he said he was sick and couldn’t take care of me so he brought me to you so I wouldn’t get the chicken pox.”
“Um, Stu,” I hedged. “That’s not exactly what I said.”
“Oh, and he said my real mama’s name is Kel and that she’s in Heaven with Pawpaw and Duo. Isn’t that nice, Daddy? They’ll never be lonely.”
Bax was speechless. He looked from Stu to Bea and back at Stu. “That’s a nice way to think about it.” Reaching for Bea’s hand, they held onto each other, and in that moment, I missed AJ so much that I physically ached for her.
Since I’d come home, she’d been there for me countless times, just like Bea was for Bax.
AJ was my person. She wasn’t just a light in my life.
She was the sun in my universe, and her warmth and the connection she had to the earth beneath my feet were the foundation I was just now realizing we might be able to build a future on. A sturdy one. A happy one.
Stu nodded, smiling brightly, and then he looked at me. “Do you have a picture of Mama Kel?”
“No,” I said, “I’m sorry, but I-I don’t. I don’t have many things from back then. I had pictures on my old phone, but I lost it a long time ago.”
“It’s okay,” Bax said. “We do. When we couldn’t find you, we had someone dig a little into Kel’s background, and we found her senior picture from high school. But Stu, you don’t have any other questions for Mama or Daddy? Or Uncle Dixon?”
“No, well maybe one. What should I call you?”
All eyes landed on me again. I had no idea how to answer, but Bea saved me.
“What would you like to call him?”
“Mama,” Stu griped, “you can’t put me on the spot like that. I dunno. It needs to come to me organally.”
A snort burst out of Bax’s nose, and Bea corrected Stu again. “Organically.”
“That’s what I said.”
Bea stood and scooped him out of Bax’s arms. I wanted to hug him and ask for more time. I wasn’t ready for the night to end, but she carried him upstairs to get ready for bed, which left Bax and me alone.
When they were out of hearing range, he said quietly, “I’ve a been a little worried about the gossip around town gettin’ back to Stu.” He sighed heavily. “But I wanted to strangle you tonight.”
“I know.”
“I’ve wanted to strangle you for a long damn time.”
“I know that too.”
He crossed the distance between us and stood in front of me. “But right now, for some goddamn reason, I need to hug you.” He didn’t wait for my response. He wrapped his arms around me, patting my back like guys do, but then it became a real hug, and he held onto me like he loved me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine what I’ve put y’all through, but Stu forgot to tell you the second most important thing I said tonight.
The first was that I love him, but the second is that I’m so damn lucky that you’re my family and that bringin’ him to you was the best decision I’ve ever made.
“I stand by it, brother. You saved me. You saved him, and I’ll never know how to make you understand how much that means to me.”
“That little boy,” Bax said, and he tried to clear the lump out of his throat, but didn’t quite manage it, “he saved me when I didn’t know how to let go of the past. He gave me a future to look forward to. Bea and Stu both did. Athena too. They all saved me, and he… Stuey, he’s—”
“He’s your son,” I said, hugging my brother harder. “He’s our son, and nothin’ will ever change that.”
Dressed in soft, white pajamas with brown cows all over them, Stu climbed into his bed and smiled up at me and Bax on either side. He stuffed his bare feet under his bed sheet and rubbed them over the mattress.
Bea walked into Stu’s bedroom, carrying a manila folder, and when she stood at the foot of the bed, she pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to me.
I smiled when I saw Kel’s young face looking back at me.
Kellie Gale. She had been a whirlwind of a woman, and she’d never know the gift she’d given me.
Memories swirled around my head of the silver lunch car diner by the park we used to go to get high.
We’d sip milkshakes and talk about our lives before the drugs.
Mostly I talked about my brothers and sister, but Kel had big dreams, and she could talk for hours about wanting to be a journalist someday.
“She wanted to be on TV,” I told Stu as I handed him the paper. “She wanted to be the person who said, ‘We have breaking news tonight.’”
He took the paper from my hand and studied the person looking back at him.
“She’s pretty.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “And she loved you.”
Nodding, he folded the paper and stuck it beneath his pillow. Bea turned to leave the room, but Stu said, “Mama, where you goin’? Aren’t you gonna read me a story tonight?”
She stopped in the doorway. “Oh, well, it’s really late, and I’m kinda tired. I thought maybe tonight Dixon could tell you a story. I’ve heard he’s really good at it.”
Stu propped himself up on his elbows. “You are?” he asked. “Like me?”
I shrugged and sat on the edge of his bed. “I dunno if I’m any good at it. I’ll let you be the judge of that, but yeah, I like tellin’ stories.”
Bax and Bea took turns kissing Stu’s forehead, and then they left the room quietly, and I relaxed back against Stu’s headboard. He lay down and turned toward me, waiting patiently with his hands tucked up beneath his cheek.
“Is it okay if I call you Deedee?” he asked.
“Deedee?”
“Yeah, D.D. for Daddy Dixon.”
“Sure, kid,” I said, trying not to die right there on the spot from too much happiness. “You can call me whatever you like.”
“Okay. Good. Now, tell me a story, Deedee.”
“Alright, bossy.” I cleared my throat and hiked his blanket a little higher so he wouldn’t get cold. “Once upon a time, there was a prince…”