Epilogue
Dixon
Sprawled on Stu’s bed at Bax’s house, my legs hung over one side and Stu’s dangled over the other, but we both stared up at his bedroom ceiling, trying to come up with an ending for the story he’d helped me write.
I’d been working on it for two months. The story came to me in the days and nights I spent alone in the Cascades, but in my downtime over the last couple months, I typed it out on AJ’s old computer and read it to Stu before bed most nights.
For a five-year-old, the kid had a lot of feedback.
Although, most of it was pretty good, so I’d stay up late, rewriting and fine-tuning.
But now, the thought of turning it into an actual book that strangers might read scared the shit out of me, and the fear had given me my first attack of writer’s block.
“What about if the elf prince wins a big contest,” Stu suggested. “It could be a fishin’ contest. He’d get a big prize, and then the maiden would kiss him. The end. Bada bing, bada boom!” He flipped onto his stomach and pushed up on his elbows. “Now can we go fishin’?”
I laughed, hoping that, in his eyes, things would always be so simple. “Sure, kid, but this time you’re tyin’ your own lure—”
The bedroom door creaked open, and my brother tossed a sketchpad at my head. “I’m comin’ too,” Bax said, “just as soon as you have a look through that.”
“What is it?” I asked, sitting up and grabbing the pad before it fell to the floor.
Stu army-crawled and sat next to me. He flipped the notebook open to the first page, which was a drawing Bax had done of—
“What is this?” I said again, but I knew exactly what I was looking at. “This is my character. It’s Jaze the Brave of Loftovel.” Running a finger over my brother’s drawing, the words I wanted to say got caught on awe. “Th-this is exactly how I picture him in my head. How did you know?”
Bax shrugged. “Y’all been in this room for the last two months, chatterin’ and tellin’ stories, and I heard you complainin’ to Abey about needin’ character art and mock-ups for the book. So, there ya go.”
“Good job, Daddy,” Stu said, and he hopped off the bed and skipped over to pat Bax’s arm. “I’m gonna go get the worms.”
Bax chuckled when Stu left the room. “Kid’s got food and fishin’ on the brain.”
“I can’t believe you did this for me,” I said, still staring at the drawing, and when I flipped to the second page, the fictional town of Loftovel I’d been dreaming up for years came to life.
Bax had even drawn a life-like version of the high towers and castle Stu and I had built out of Legos. “This is amazing.”
“Thanks.”
I stood and looked at him. “Seriously, Bax. I knew you could draw, but this is next level.”
“Well, good then. Glad you like it. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I walked by one day when you and Stu were goin’ on about the story, and I guess I kinda liked it, so I grabbed my sketchbook and sat outside the door while you talked.
And then you were here all the time, and sometimes I get bored. Plus, I mean, I kinda owe you.”
“You owe me? Owe me for what?”
“Y’know, for my…” He shifted on his feet and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “I owe you for what my dad did. How he treated you, and I never knew how bad it got. Maybe I didn’t wanna know. I just… I’m sorry.”
“Thanks for sayin’ that, but it wasn’t your fault, Bax. You think you could’ve stopped him?”
“No,” he said. “No, I probably couldn’t have, but I’m still sorry you had to go through that alone.”
“Thank you.” I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, holding onto his drawings in my other hand like they were diamonds. “I don’t blame you. I never have. So, let’s put the subject to rest. I talk about it enough in therapy.”
I’d also talked more about it with Merv. She helped me fill in some blanks in my memories, but we hadn’t gone too in depth yet. I thought it might be good to do that in the therapist’s office.
William had shown up. He met Stu, and he and Merv started going for walks. What they did or talked about on those walks was a mystery. She was tight-lipped about it. I thought he might be seeking a little redemption himself. Time would tell.
He and I had talked a little, but if he wanted to be my father, he had miles to go to get there. I knew what I deserved now.
“You know you’re gettin’ more annoyingly well-adjusted by the day?” Bax asked.
This time, I shrugged. “Don’t we have some fish to catch?”
Stu popped his head in the door. “Yeah, we do, so let’s go! Oh, and AJ’s here, and she brought her new fishin’ pole.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s pink.”
“I don’t think the fish care,” Bax said.
Stu rolled his eyes again, this time more dramatically. It was his new thing. If he didn’t roll his eyes six times an hour, he did it ten times the next.
“Yeah, but pink’s a girl color.”
“A pink pole will catch fish same as a blue or green one,” I added.
“I like pink,” Bax said. “You like pink, Deedee?” He elbowed me lightly in my ribs, letting me know we were good, and I smiled, ’cause even though it pinched a little, it felt right. Ribbing and jabbing each other was what brothers were supposed to do, like we used to when we were Stu’s age.
“Love it,” I said. “I kinda have to since it’s AJ’s favorite color. Everything that woman owns is pink.”
“Her van’s not pink,” Stu said. “Her cat Fancy’s not pink. Her flower shop’s not pink…”
This time, I rolled my eyes. “Somebody needs to teach this kid the meaning of sarcasm and the difference between figurative and literal.”
“Ooo, fancy words for a redneck,” Bax joked as we descended the stairs.
Stu ran ahead to hug AJ, waiting for us in the living room, and he made sure to give her pink fishing pole the side-eye.
“Y’know,” Bax drawled, “I think you should pay me for my artwork. I’m thinkin’ five million dollars when you get a big book deal.”
I snorted. “Pretty sure it don’t work like that.”
“Well then, the least you can do is cook up all the fish I catch today for supper.”
“As long as I get to eat some of it, you got yourself a deal.”
“Five fish!”
AJ beamed, looking down into her bucket of trout. She’d beaten me and Bax both. And poor Stu looked utterly dejected with only two fish dangling from the hook lures in his hand.
“I like my fish grilled with a dash of lemon and Lawry’s salt,” Bax informed me, smirking, and he reached over to ruffle Stu’s hair. “Ready for football, Stu Man?”
“Yeah!” Stu handed his fish to me. “Deputy Frank says if we’re late for practice, he’ll arrest us.” He darted ahead and tossed his pole into the bed of Bax’s truck.
“I think he was kiddin’,” Bax said, chuckling.
“It’s only Pee Wee football. Alright, see y’all around five.
It’s just the four of us tonight, Stu, and Rye.
Athena’s eatin’ at Shaylene’s, and Aubrey’s doin’ inventory at the bookshop.
Merv said she’s busy, so it should be a quiet, uneventful evenin’. ”
They buckled into the truck and took off, but as they drove away, Bax stopped and Stu yelled out his backseat window when Bax rolled it down.
“You’re comin’ next week, right Deedee? It’s our last game!”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kid.”
My son smiled like I’d just handed him the key to a free toy store. He threw me a thumb’s up, and AJ and I waved as they disappeared around the bend.
Turning toward her, I asked, “Can I show you somethin’?”
“Sure, as long as you promise my fish will still be alive when we’re done, or else I’ll release them back into the lake now.”
“You know we’re eatin’ those fish tonight, right?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean they have to suffer before their deaths.”
I didn’t mention how the hook holes through their mouths probably wasn’t a pleasant sensation. She refused to touch the fish, so I had to unhook all five.
“They’ll be fine, baby girl. Promise.”
She set her bucket on the ground in a nice little pocket of shade under a poplar tree.
I unhooked Stu’s catch and added them to the count, along with mine and Bax’s, and we walked south around the far side of the lake and up a narrow road that had been recently carved into the earth by my brothers’ tires.
Rye had cleared the vegetation with his tractor, and Brand ordered gravel to be laid, but it hadn’t arrived yet.
Sunshine peeked in and out of the lodgepole pines and quaking Aspens along the road, playing hide and seek with their boughs and branches.
The air was crisp, and a perfect end-of-fall breeze rustled around us.
AJ huddled into her hoodie, looking up at the dwindling leaves still left on a cottonwood.
They shimmered in the light and covered us with a warm orange glow.
“Where we goin’?” she asked, and she studied my face as I answered.
“Somewhere special. At least, I hope it will be.”
She was quiet for a minute, but then she said softly, “You’re so handsome. I look at you, at the man you are now, and I feel peace.”
Compliments weren’t something I had quite gotten used to hearing yet. “Yeah well, you need glasses. Gran said it the other day.”
“I do not. Just accept the compliment, Dixon, because it’s true.”
“I will,” I said, standing still and pulling her close for a kiss, “because it came from you.”
“Good.”
“Good, now that’s settled, last one there’s a rotten egg!”
I took off and AJ followed me up the last rise of the hill, like we were five again, dancing and dashing in the forest. Her glittering laugh behind me filled me so full, I had to stop to catch my breath. She raced ahead of me but skidded on the soles of her tennis shoes when she saw the cabin.
“Whatcha think?” I said when I caught up.
“I don’t remember this one. Is it new?”
Slinging my arm over her shoulders, I said, “Yeah. Brand and I just finished it. The credit goes to him though, because he’s been workin’ on it for a year when he had the time. He built it for us.”
“But we weren’t even together a year ago.”
“It started out as a place for me in case I ever came home,” I said, “but once I got here and he showed me, I knew it was meant for you too.”
“You don’t mean you wanna live here?”
“No,” I said, chuckling. “It’s not big enough for all your clothes. And I know you like to be near your mama and gran, but this can be a getaway for us. A place to chill and reset.
“I was thinkin’ I could use it as, like, a writin’ retreat or somethin’. I spent so much time alone in a cabin, and sometimes I miss the silence.”
She looked at me, her hazel eyes darkening and reacting to the blue sky above and all the fall colors wrapped around us out here in the wood. A raven squawked nearby, announcing his displeasure and letting us know he didn’t approve of our presence in his territory.
“You do?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sometimes.”
“Well then, I love it.” She stretched up on her toes to kiss my cheek. “Let’s go inside.”
I followed when she stepped forward. “You know what’s even better than silence, though?”
“What?”
Gripping her hips, I turned her. She screeched her surprise, and it echoed between the trees as I lifted her and tossed her over my shoulder.
“That sound you just made, and all the sounds you’re about to make once I get your jeans off. We don’t have to be quiet out here like we do at your place.”
“It’s our place. But you’re right. I’d just die if Gran knew we were havin’ sex in her backyard.”
“She knows I live there and that you’re not a nun.”
“I know but still, she’s so innocent.”
I snorted. “If there’s one thing I know about Gran, it’s that she’s never been innocent. You should ask her about it sometime.”
“Dixon! What did she tell you?” When I didn’t answer and I pushed open the cabin door, she swatted my ass. “Spill, now.”
“Ain’t my story to tell.”
I set AJ on her feet, and before she could get out another squeak of protest, I turned her and she shut right up.
“Oh my God. It’s so pretty. I didn’t expect pretty.”
“What’d you expect?” I asked. I ran my hand up and down the knotted wood wall that had been sanded and washed with a cool birch stain before Bax, Brand, and I sealed it.
“Dark wood and masculine.”
She walked to the only piece of furniture in the place, a comfy oat-colored chaise.
I bought pillows to go with it in the colors of a pale sunset.
I set it by a window that looked out at so many trees I couldn’t count.
I’d picked it out for her two weeks ago and had it delivered.
It wasn’t fancy or expensive, but it was comfortable.
She sat and bounced once, testing the give, then leaned over the side to untie her shoes.
She kicked them off, then tucked her feet beneath her butt.
“You like dark better than light,” she said.
I shrugged. “I like whatever you like, ’cause if you like it, you’ll spend time here, and I wanna be with you here. Brand showed me how to stain the walls light like this. We did a wash and then sanded it down, but it’s just enough to make the place feel warm, y’know?”
I nodded at the door behind her. “There’s a bedroom back there and a bathroom with a nice tub. We can soak our troubles away.”
Reaching her arms out for me, she cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re not makin’ it to the bedroom. C’mere.” She extended her legs and spread them open, unbuttoned her jeans, and her hand disappeared beneath.
“I smell like fish.”
“Don’t care.”
“You’re trouble, baby girl.” I locked the door behind us and walked to the end of the chaise, then crawled over her. “Have I told you that?”
“More than once.” She pulled her hand from beneath the denim and lifted her wet fingers to my mouth.
Sucking those thin fingers, I let them glide over my tongue. My eyes rolled closed and I groaned at the sweet taste on my tongue. “Well, I’m sayin’ it again.”
She was trouble alright, spelled with a capital T, and her brand of trouble was the only kind I needed in my life.
And I’d spend the rest of it thanking her for it.
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