Chapter 4
Dakota
Just as Mom was taking the pot pies out of the oven, I could see the guys coming over the ridge in the distance. The sun was setting, causing their shadows to stretch out far in front of them. I knew which figure was Jack almost immediately. He was skipping and swinging his arms. Hank was flanking one side, and it looked as if Andy was on the other. I could only imagine what they were talking about. My heart squeezed as I thought about these moments that Alex was missing. We’d talked about me moving back home and raising Jack in the country. Alex wanted him to grow up the way I did. I just never thought I’d be a widow at thirty-five.
“You gonna help, or stare at the boys?” Mom called as she waddled toward the table with a steaming casserole dish.
“I’m not staring,” I mumbled as I grabbed a second dish. One thing that hasn’t changed around here is the boys can eat.
“Ok, so you’re checking to make sure they’re coming back here. Is that it?” she teased. “You know, there’s no harm in moving on. It’s been a year. He’d want you to be happy.” She patted my shoulder.
“I know you’re right, but it’s hard, and every time I feel like I’m moving to a good place, it all comes back. The smallest things make me remember what I’ve lost, and then I feel like I’m a terrible person for even trying to move on.” I leaned against the counter and as Mom moved closer, I rested my head on her shoulder. “When will it stop hurting?”
“That I can’t tell you, but I do know that there’s a man out there who’s still carrying a torch for you.” She hugged me.
“How do you know that?” I murmured.
“I’ve seen the way he still looks at you.” She squeezed my hand just as the screen door came flying open and Jack’s feet came thundering inside.
“Mom!” he called as he rounded the corner.
“Did you have fun?” I smiled and ruffled his hair.
“The best. Can I go back tomorrow?” He grinned up at me.
“If Hank invites you, then yes. Go change and get ready for supper.” He took off down the hallway, and I soon heard his feet as he stormed up the stairs to the bedrooms. “Thanks.” I nodded at Hank.
“You’re welcome. We go every day when it’s hot. I’d be happy to watch him.” He smiled softly and then turned to go outside. I watched as his tall, tanned frame walked toward the bunkhouse. As he disappeared into the trees that lined the back of the property, I slowly went back to preparing the table for supper.
It wasn’t long before all the guys came lumbering in, sitting down, and greeting Mom and me with “ma’am” and “miss”. Dad came in from where he’d been working in the office that morning, and as Mom and I carried the last of the dishes to the table, everyone had a seat. “Where’s Jack?” Dad looked around.
“Coming!” he shouted as he skidded to a stop. “Sorry.” His mouth turned down as if he were worried he was in trouble. “I was trying to hang up my wet stuff.” He sat down and folded a napkin in his lap. Dad smiled, and then he said grace.
Everyone helped themselves to pot pie, and then I passed the tea pitcher around.
“You sure have the best food around, Grandma.” Jack shoveled another bite of the chicken into his mouth.
“I bet your mom cooks pretty good, too.” Hank glanced at me before giving his attention back to Jack.
Jack glanced at me, frowned, and then stared at his plate like he was trying to come up with a way to say what was on his mind.
“Codie was never really the one wanting to be in the kitchen with me when she was growing up. It was usually Louise who wanted to follow me around. Codie was always calculating stuff and hanging out in her dad’s office.” Mom smiled gently.
“It shows. Mom can’t cook that great,” Jack mumbled. My dad started laughing, and then the guys chuckled, too.
I turned to stare at Jack. “You know how we always took those fun trips with your dad? It’s because I saved money on other things. Numbers are my thing. Sorry, kid.” I shrugged. He was right. I wasn’t a great cook, but I could find ways to pinch pennies and how to cut costs on just about anything.
“That’s ok.” Hank smiled. “We can’t all be good at everything.”
“My dad was,” Jack whispered. At that moment everyone got quiet and finished eating in silence. I knew he didn’t mean to make things awkward, but Jack had a knack for saying things right when they came into his head, and not thinking about them. I knew he missed Alex as much as I did and I had hoped that bringing him here would help, but he was learning to adjust just like me, and time was the only thing that was helping right now.
When dinner ended, everyone put their plates in the dishwasher, and left to go back to the bunkhouse. I helped Mom clean up, and Jack went into the family room with my dad. I could hear them chatting away about something, and then Jack ran upstairs.
“Everything ok?” I was wiping my hands with a towel when I peered in to see my dad stretching out in his easy chair.
“We’re fine. He’s getting ready for bed, and then I promised I’d tell him a story about you when you were his age.” He smiled as he stared at me. “It’s doesn’t seem like that long ago.”
“I know what you mean.” I sighed. “The moving truck is supposed to be here in the morning. Do you think you could spare some time to help me unload it?” I called as I went to put the towel in the kitchen.
“I think I can get you some help.” His voice was light and had a slight hint of mischief in it. I could always tell when my dad was joking around and when he was serious. He was like me; he couldn’t hide that sort of thing.
“Perfect. I plan to meet the truck at the guesthouse at eight.” I came in and sat down on the couch. “Be nice with these stories. I don’t need him getting stuck somewhere.” I wagged my finger, teasing him at the same time.
“I’ll be good.” He smiled.
“I think I’m going to grab a book and sit on the back porch. I’ve been going all day.”
“Go relax.” Dad shooed me away. “I can watch Jack until he goes to bed.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I came over and kissed his cheek before heading up to my room.
Jack was coming out of his room and passed me in the hallway. “I’m sorry,” his voice was almost a whisper.
“Sorry for what?” I squatted in front of him.
“For talking about Dad at supper. I know it makes you sad.” His lip quivered and he sucked in a deep breath as if he were trying to put on a brave face for me.
“Baby, you can talk about your daddy all you want to. I know you miss him. I miss him too, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about him.” He flung his arms around my neck and hugged me tight.
“I just… I think about him sometimes and it makes me sad, but I don’t want to forget him either.” He buried his face in my neck.
“You’ll never forget him, and it will get to the point where it doesn’t hurt to remember. It just takes time, but I want you to know that I’ll never be upset with you for talking about him.” His arms slowly released me, and he stepped back.
“Thanks, Mom.” He smiled as I stood up.
“You’re welcome, buddy.” I ruffled his hair. “Your grandpa’s waiting for you. I think he’s got some funny stories to share.” With that, Jack turned to rush down the steps, and I slipped into my room.
My heart hurt thinking about what he said. He was trying so hard to be brave, I guess I hadn’t noticed how much he was still hurting. I leaned against the closed door and clutched at my chest. My soul hurt for my son, and for the life he was robbed of when we lost Alex. I wasn’t sure how I was going to move on and give him the happiness he deserved, but I was sure going to try.
I grabbed the book off my night table and made my way downstairs. As I passed by the family room, I heard Jack’s laughter as my dad was telling a story. I could only imagine what they were sharing, but it felt good to hear his joy.
*****
It was a warm evening, and when I stepped onto the screened porch, a gentle breeze blew, causing a few hairs that had escaped my braid to tickle my neck. I sat down on the porch swing, and turned myself sideways so I could put my legs up. I adjusted one of the pillows behind me to cushion my back, and then released a deep sigh. I hadn’t really taken any time for myself since arriving back home, and this was one of my favorite places from my childhood.
When I was young, I’d play out here because the bugs wouldn’t bother me. I’d spend hours reading or working on a puzzle. When I was older, I came out here to watch the guys. They’d sometimes be outside at the bunkhouse tossing a football or finishing up a chore that didn’t get completed during the day. There was a path that led to the barns from here, and Hank and I would use it to sneak away for one of our forbidden meet ups. Once I was older and it wasn’t so awkward for us to be together, we’d sit out here in the evenings and talk. We’d talk about life, or the future, and what I was planning to do after college. None of those talks ever consisted of me leaving this place and him behind. When I did finally decide to go away, I think it was a shock to everyone, not just him.
I used one foot to push the swing, gently swaying in the night breeze as I attempted to read the same page for the third time. My mind was on anything and everything else. “Mind if I join you?” I froze as my eyes snapped up to meet his.
“Sure.” I sat up straighter and turned to make room.
“You didn’t have to move.” He smiled, but it didn’t quiet meet his eyes. He seemed somewhat troubled.
“It’s ok. Did you need something?” I was trying to hold my emotions in and not fall apart right now because the last thing I wanted was to be a burden to anyone, but Hank didn’t know how close I was to losing it.
“I just thought it would be nice to talk. You know, we used to tell each other everything.” He sighed as he sat beside me, one jean clad thigh pressed against mine. I looked down, just staring at our legs, trying to pretend that I wasn’t a mixed-up ball of emotions right now.
“Things change,” I murmured before I lifted my eyes to look out across the yard. “This used to be my favorite spot,” I continued. “I’d escape from the bickering of my sisters, or my parents asking me to do something. I’d come here to get away. This is my favorite part of the day.” I glanced over at him. He was just watching me ramble. “The moment the sun sinks down, the lightning bugs come out, and the crickets chirp. I could live in this moment forever.”
“What about the moonlight? You used to tell me that being bathed in the moonlight was your favorite time.” He reached over and placed his palm over mine. The tanned skin was calloused from all the farm work he’d done over the years. He squeezed lightly. “Remember standing right over just beyond the tree line? We told each other everything. You said I was your forever.”
I pulled my hand from his. I couldn’t do this right now. I’d been avoiding being alone with him since I got here. “I can’t do this. Not right now.” I stood up and clutched my book to my chest.
“When then?” He stayed seated on the swing. “When can we talk about what happened?”
“I don’t know.” I turned and went inside. Why did I come back here? I knew this was going to happen. I knew he’d be here, and he’d want answers, answers that I wasn’t sure I had.