Searching for Tomorrow (Tomorrows)

by Kathryn McNeill Crane

  I gasped, and quickly looked up at Tripp’s face. He gave a quick tug on the bow, and then his hands covered mine. I was drowning in the love that poured from his eyes. “Wrynn, my love, the red tulip represents the perfect love. Our love. You are my forever, my once in a lifetime. There will never be another love for me. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” He lifted my left hand and brought the ring to the tip of my finger. “Will you marry me and live out my tomorrows with me?”

  Two things happened in a flurry of movement. I shoved my finger through the ring and threw myself onto Tripp, knocking him back onto the blanket. Between the rapid-fire yeses and the millions of kisses I showered on his face, Tripp got the message that I was sending. Those big, strong arms wrapped around me so tight and then his lips began to chase mine until he caught them. With the murmurs of, ‘I love you’, and the thoughts of our forever, Tripp and I forgot about our families waiting nearby and the troubles of the world as we lost ourselves in each other. He was right. This was the beginning of all our tomorrows, the promise of our forever.

  Chapter Eleven

  Present

  Sunday evening rolls around, and when I get off work, I head over to Momma and Daddy’s to grab a bite of supper, before taking the girls into town for the Memorial Day weekend fireworks show. It’s been a couple of days since Liam ran off from the house. I’m really hoping that my mom and dad have heard from him by now. His behavior hasn’t been this erratic since his college days, but I guess hearing Lara’s voice on the answering machine was a shock to his system. Even though he doesn’t talk much about their relationship, I know that her leaving the way she did left a lot of damage to his heart.

  When I pull up to Mom and Dad’s, I see the girls outside swinging on my old tire swing. When I was a kid, it was my most favorite thing in the whole world. My girls love to hear the story of how their dad and I met over a tire swing. Of course, I have a tendancy to gloss over the part about Liam and me fighting over it. Lord knows, my girls don’t need any further encouragement to fight and bicker amongst themselves.

  As I close the driver’s side door, Dad steps out onto the porch to call the girls in for supper. Seeing me step out of the car, he walks over to give me a hug. “How’s my little song bird? Did you have a good day at work?”

  Leaning into my dad’s arms, I close my eyes and breathe deeply. He always feels like home to me. My mom may have been the one to cook, clean, and taxi us around when we were younger, but Daddy was the one who always made me feel loved, cherished, and protected. He was raised in a time where, no matter what, a woman was made to feel as if she were of noble character and her worth was far more than precious jewels. He has never viewed my mom or me as weak, and he shows us in many, many ways that he treasures us. This is one of the wonderful things that he taught Liam and Tripp as they were growing into men.

  After placing a kiss on his weathered cheek, I sigh. “Well, Dad, two days into season, and I’m not sure that I’m going to make it.” I give a short laugh, and squeeze my arms tightly around him. “Remind me again why I put heels on when I know I’m going to be on my feet for hours.”

  Dad leans over looking down at my shoes, and when he stands back up, he’s shaking his head. “Women. I will never understand why you ladies insist on torturing yourselves.” He draws away from my embrace, and wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he leads me up to the porch. “I will admit though, those things sure do make your momma’s legs look mighty fine.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down, and the smile on his face just cracks me up.

  We walk through the door laughing, and Mom steps out of the kitchen to greet me. “Hey, sweetheart. Your timing is perfect. Everything’s ready, so help me get it to the table.” She gives me a kiss, and turns to my dad. “William, you’ve got that look in your eyes.” With that said, she just shakes her head, cups his cheek in her hand, and gives him a kiss. Pointing towards the bathroom, she sighs. “Go. Make sure the little ones are washing their hands and not just the bathroom tile this time.”

  Uh oh. I step back and take a close look at Momma. She and Dad are in their mid-sixties, but I’ve never given thought to their aging. I always see them through the eyes of a child. Upon closer inspection, I notice that Mom’s auburn hair is now liberally sprinkled with gray, and she has new lines on her face. For the first time in several years, my mother looks simply exhausted. When I stop to think about it, worrying about me, watching my girls, and wondering where Liam ran off to would be enough to make any person tired.

  I grab the bowl of green beans and the platter of sliced vegtables from the kitchen counter, and as I walk to place them on the dining room table, I decide the only way to get an answer is to ask the question. “Mom, you’re looking a little tired. Anything you want or need to tell me?” Even though she’s volunteered to watch the girls, I can’t help but feel a little guilty that I am adding more work for her.

  Mom follows me to the table with the fried chicken and mashed potatoes. “Sweetie, I am tired. This getting old stuff is hard on a body.” She gives a little laugh, and the sparkle in her eyes eases some of my guilt. “Before you ask, and yes, I can see the questions in your eyes, Liam called. He should be rolling in any minute now. He stayed with some friends, and the only thing I got out of him was that he had some thinking to do. Now, when he gets here, give him a chance to settle before you pounce. Besides, your dad and I have something we want to tell you two.”

  “Oh, I hate it when you do that. You know that I’ll be squirming in my seat and imagining all sorts of things.” I playfully stomp my foot, and then grimace in pain. “Ouch! Dad had me laughing so hard when we came in that I forgot to take these stupid heels off.” I pull a chair away from the table, and as I sit, I slide my feet free from the shoes and give a huge sigh of relief.

  As Mom walks back to the kitchen, she says over her shoulder, “I hate those things, but for some reason, your dad loves—”

  The sound of a slamming car door covers Mom’s words, and a few seconds later, Liam walks in the front door. I jump from the chair, rush over to him, and for once, I give him the comforting hug. He slowly wraps his arms around me and rests his chin on my head. “So glad you’re back, Bubby. I’ve been worried.” Thinking that short and sweet works best, I leave off the rest of the thoughts going through my head.

  “Just needed some thinking space, Wrynn. That voice …. ” He breaks away from me, and the pain in his eyes makes me gasp. “I just never thought I’d hear that voice again. Remember when I used to torture you by sticking duct tape to your arm and then rippin’ it off? That’s kinda how her voice made me feel. It just knocked my feet right out from under me.”

  “Liam,” I whisper. I know the anguish, the despair that he’s feeling. I understand what it’s like to be desperate to hear a person’s voice just one more time. I often conjure Tripp in my head because I have that desperate need for just one more moment with him. Unlike me, Liam can once again hear the voice that so very obviously haunts him. “She’s back.”

  “Liam, son. I see you’ve made it just in time for your momma’s fried chicken.” Dad walks up and gives Liam a hug. “The girls are at the table. Y’all come on and let’s eat before everything gets cold. We can finish this conversation afterwards.”

  As we walk to the table, we are greeted by the girls yelling ‘hello’ to their Unka Liam. Mom scurries around the table and grabs him up in her arms. As she steps back, she takes his face in her hands and just stands there, looking deep into his eyes. She must see something that makes her happy because she gives him a small smile before letting him go. “Sit, sit. The food’s getting cold, and our bellies won’t get full by just watching it.”

  After we get the girls settled and we’re all seated, Dad blesses the food, and then it’s every man for himself. One great thing about eating with family is there are always extra hands to help the little ones fill their plates. As we pass the serving bowls around the table, I notice Mom and Dad having one of their wordless c
onversations. Those two can talk for a long time using only their eyes and facial expressions, and it never ceases to amaze me how well they read each other. After being together for over forty years, it’s as if they could read each other’s minds. Mom gives Dad a little nod and that seems to be his signal to speak. “Your mom and I’ve been mulling things over and we’ve made a decision that we’d like to share with you.” The serious tone in his voice lets us know that what he’s getting ready to say is not only important, but also that it’s not up for discussion. Whatever it is, I know that they’ve talked long and hard about it, and come to a resolution together. I can’t help but feel a little tense.

  A loud groan from Liam draws all eyes to him. “Seriously? I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises right now.” He stares at the table, his hand slowly smoothing the wrinkles in the tablecloth. When he lifts his head, the twinkle in his eyes catches me by surprise. “If you two are getting a divorce, then just spit it out. Wrynn and I are old enough to handle it.”

  I can’t help it. The snort of laughter just comes out, and with it, my worries over Liam’s disappearing act just melt away. I know that whatever happens, he’s going to be all right. Picking up on his humor, I play along with his silliness. “Oh, come on, Liam. Mom and Dad aren’t quitters. You know they wouldn’t get a divorce. Right?” By now, Mom is shaking her head and Dad’s chuckling. With a feigned gasp, I say, “Oh my goodness. You’re pregnant. Well, don’t you two worry. Liam and I will be here to help you.”

  “Amelia Wrynn Broun Tidwell.” Uh oh. When Mom says my full name like that, I always feel like I’m seven and she just caught me writing on the walls with crayons. “William Russell Broun.” Well, at least I’m not getting into trouble by myself.

  Liam and I look at each other when we hear the note of exasperation in our mom’s voice. He cracks a grin at me, and we both start laughing. Mom is shaking her head again, but this time she’s smiling. “What am I going to do with you two? Always joking around. You’d think after 29 years with y’all, I’d be used to it.”

  Dad joins in our laughter, and taking Mom’s hand in his, he says, “Well, hon, maybe my delivery was a little formal. They probably thought I was going to give them bad news. Should I start over?” Mom gives him a little nod, and Dad turns back to us. “Your mom is retiring at the end of this school year.”

  That’s the big news? Mom has talked about retiring for years, but she genuinely loves teaching. I know that she’s slowing down with her age, but I guess I never really thought about her not being at the school like she’s been for the last two decades. I like knowing that she’s there if the girls need her. Scolding myself for my selfish thoughts, I realize that twenty-some third graders would be hard on anyone.

  When she and Dad married, they wanted to have a house full of kids, but month after month, they were disappointed because it hadn’t happened. After being told that she would more than likely never have children, Mom filled that emptiness and longing by pouring all her love into her students. Imagine her surprise when, at thirty-five, the doctor told her that the flu bug she couldn’t kick wasn’t an illness at all. Her dreams of being a mother were coming true. When she found out that she was having twins, she was doubly thankful for her blessings.

  To say that Dad treated her like spun glass would be an understatement. He convinced her to stay home, rest, and prepare herself for the upcoming arrivals. He catered to her every want, and often times anticipated her needs before she had time to voice them. Mom jokes that he was always underfoot, overbearing, and at times, downright irritating, but she never once doubted his love and devotion to her and the babies she was carrying.

  When Liam and I were born, she took what she fondly refers to as a ten-year sabbitical from teaching. She spent that time raising us and planning adventures. I got my love of the outdoors from those days we spent together. My mom was fond of the saying that housework will always be there, but children are only young for a time.

  Our parents had hoped for another child or two, but when Mom turned forty and no other siblings followed, she put those thoughts aside. The summer after Liam and I turned ten, she and Dad talked about her returning to work, and she’s never once regretted that decision. It’s hard to believe that was almost twenty years ago.

  “Mom, you’ve been talking about retiring for years. What made you decide to do it now?” Liam voices the exact question that I’m thinking.

  “Son, I am not getting any younger, and my grandbabies are growing up too fast. I don’t want to miss any more time with them.” She is staring at the girls with a wistful look in her eyes. “I should have quit when Wrynn moved back. She could of used my help when Tripp—” With a startled gasp, Mom’s eyes look into mine.

  “It’s okay, Mom. You can say his name. I know you miss him, too.” I am quite positive that the smile on my face looks broken, but the hitch I feel in my heart is quickly covered with happiness. When I think of Tripp, I remember only the good times.

  Mom sees the truth in my eyes, and closes hers for a moment. With her anxiety calmed, she starts again. “When Tripp died, I felt like I should have retired, but then Papa Tidwell decided to move in with you and the girls. That was the happiest he had been since Nana passed away. I wouldn’t have taken that from him for anything. Y’all needed each other and it was the perfect solution.”

  “Young lady.” The stern note in his voice forces my eyes straight to Daddy’s. “Did you think that your mother and I wouldn’t hear about your little run-in with Mrs. Tidwell? Do you have any idea how upset we are to hear how badly she’s been treating you? Why did we hear this from friends and not from you?”

  There is a harshness to his tone that I don’t recall ever hearing before. I need to choose my words carefully, otherwise I will only cause more harm. “I … Uhm. I didn’t want to worry you. She’s been acting strange for a while now, and I actually think she may be getting sick or something.” I make a big production of rubbing my nose, making it obvious that I’m not quite sure how to worm myself out of this tight spot. “Annnyhoow, uhm.”

  I look over at the girls and notice that they seem to be hanging onto every word that I speak. There are some things that they are just too young to know. “I went over to see her and things came to a head and I learned lot of interesting things that I can’t talk about right now but just know that I took care of the problem and it’s over and done with and there is nothing more to worry about or discuss right now.” By the time I get to the end of my rushed sentence, I am out of breath from talking so fast. The girls are googlie-eyed with confusion, and the grownups know that we will have to finish this conversation later without little ears present.

  Relieved to have that over with, I clap my hands together, stand from the table, and ask, “Now, who’s ready for dessert?”

  “Wrynn, you sit right back down. We’re not finished talking yet.” Clearly Mom is irritated, but I am ready to get the target off my back and move on to another subject. She turns to Dad and asks, “Honey, could you take the girls to the kitchen and get them ice cream?”

  Mayhem breaks out as the girls rush my father to the kitchen with shouts of ‘ice scream’, ‘I want chocolate’, and ‘nillar’. Dad’s grinning from ear to ear, so I have no doubt that he will be fixing himself a bowl of ice cream, as well. Knowing him, he’ll stay in there and enjoy some time with his little princess girls, too.

  “Now, if we’re going to make it to the fireworks tonight, we need to have this discussion quickly.” Mom goes into full teacher mode. This means listen fast but carefully, because there may be a test at the end. “Liam, I understand that you were surprised to hear Lara’s voice on Wrynn’s answering machine, but you didn’t give her a chance to explain what happened. You just rushed out of the house, and let us all worry about you for the last couple of days.” She leans over, covers Liam’s hand with her own, and gives it a squeeze. “Wrynn ran into her in the parking lot of Mountain Fresh. It was out of the blue. They sat and talked f
or a bit and Wrynn invited her to supper to talk some more. Nothing more and nothing less. Before Wrynn had the time to talk to you about it, Lara called to cancel. That’s as far as it got.”

  Mom stands up from the table and moves behind Liam, gently wrapping her arms around him, offering the comfort that only a mother can. “I know she hurt you baby, but you need to understand that she’s back in town to stay. You also need to know something else.” She steps back around, kneels in front of him, and takes his hands. “I saw her at the school on Friday. She was there picking children up. You need to prepare yourself for the fact that she has a family and may have a husband. You know that you WILL be running into her, and as small as this town is, it will be soon.”

  Liam rests his forehead on Mom’s, and just as he opens his mouth to reply, Dad and the girls rush from the kitchen chattering excitedly about the fireworks. Of course, that signals the end of this conversation, and I can’t help but wonder what Liam was getting ready to say. Why didn’t I think to ask Lara if she was married? I could put his mind to rest if I had answers for him.

  “These girls are ready for some fireworks.” Dad walks through the kitchen door with one monkey on his back, one in his arms, and one riding his foot. All four of them look like they are raring to go. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Mom gently rubs Liam on the head and says, “We will finish this conversation later.”

  Liam stands from the table, folds Mom into his arms, and holds on for dear life. While it hurts my heart to see him in so much pain, I can’t help but hope that something good will come out of this mess. If anyone deserves a happy ending, my brother does. After all that he’s done for me, all the times he’s been there for me, I will do everything in my power to help him find just that.