by Leslie Pike
Remembering the feeling I had when first I saw the view from this porch is the best support I can call on. The feeling of being in a place that means something big in my life. Something true. That could not have been false. Now, I need to put action to feeling. If we are meant to be together, there needs to be clarity about who we are. Right from the start.
He should know the people in my life have been chosen carefully. They are each there by reason of their goodness. I can’t imagine life without their friendships. Nobel doesn’t seem to have many close friends, other than his brothers. He said it was always like that. And that’s okay. For him. I’m a different beast. I like people around me.
I ring the bell and wait. Maudie shows up first, peeking out the window. I wave and make kissing sounds. A wagging tail says her hellos. It feels like a lifetime before the sound of the human’s footsteps reach the door. It swings open. For a moment we just look at each other. Then my confidence evaporates, and the tears start streaming.
He takes me in his arms.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mean to deceive or hide anything,” I say, burying my face in his chest. “You have to believe me.”
It takes a moment before he responds. When I look up into his beautiful eyes, the anger is gone. But he’s still uncomfortable. I can see.
“Let’s go inside. We can talk it out there.”
Maudie stands guard at the doorstep, and she’s watching us. Her eyes are mostly on Nobel and she questions the mood. Are you sad? In an offering of love, she licks his hand.
He pats her head. “It’s all right, old girl.”
I would bet she has been comforting him since returning from my house. It’s a dog’s love language.
We go to the couch and settle next to each other. Maudie curls at his feet, not wanting to be apart.
“So tell me. When was this and why did it end? I need to know, and then it will never be brought up again.”
“That’s fair. It was about a year ago.”
He doesn’t like that, I can tell. Hands comb through his thick hair and rest behind his head.
“So it basically just happened,” he says coolly.
“No. Well, yes, but there’s extenuating circumstances. Hear me out.”
He’s silent, staring straight ahead. So I begin.
“Jimmy and I have known each other since we were about nineteen. He’s always been in love with me.”
“Oh that’s great news,” Nobel says dryly. “I feel much better.”
“Hear me out. I realized it wouldn’t be kind to encourage what I did not feel. So, I talked about my boyfriends. I made sure he knew there was nothing but the undying affection of friendship between us. He and I had started a band way back then. Not the one you see now, but the seed was planted. We began writing our own music. We’ve been together through each incarnation of Montana.”
“How did you get from there to an engagement?”
I sigh into the memories of the story.
“My grandmother got sick first. Grandpa and I took care of her for just a year, but it took a toll. For him it was physical. For me, it affected my music. My focus on music and the band had to take second place status. That was just a fact. We lost our bass player and eventually the drummer. Why would talent hang around someone who is not putting the music first? Tony had an offer for another band and had to take it to survive. But Jimmy never budged. He stayed steady with me. Stayed even when his own source of income slid.”
Nobel’s arms come down and he angles his body toward mine as he listens.
“Then when Grandpa got sick two years later, there was just me to take the mantle. There was no other person to care for him as he deserved. So again, I became a caretaker. I’m not complaining, just explaining.”
“How did you survive financially?”
A little snort escapes me. “We had a home, a vegetable garden, and grandpa’s social security check to help us. There was a small savings account but that went fairly quick. I had to pick up gigs whenever I could. But by then we had been joined by Oscar and ZZ. They were the best we’d had. I think they could see the writing on the wall because grandpa was already in hospice. It wouldn’t be long until we’d be able to concentrate on getting dates booked. They were willing to wait. At the end, Tony came back. And that’s what happened.”
“I still haven’t heard how you ended up engaged to a man you say you didn’t love.”
“That’s the thing. It happened suddenly and I was trapped. Let me explain, please. Just listen.”
He remains silent.
“So, all those years, through all the romantic connections for each of us, nothing changed his mind. I could see the longing in his eyes. But he never acted on it. He had always been the most wonderful friend. When my grandparents got sick, he would do whatever he could to help them and me. They loved him. I had no one else to cry to and complain to and just generally let see the rawness of the situation. That’s where I made my mistake. I relied on him emotionally. Too much. But in my defense, I was in a fucking storm and I grabbed the lifeboat of friendship. I didn’t see that he was mistaking it for a possibility of love. It was entirely my fault, but I was so beat, so wounded, I let my guard down. He mistook my gratefulness as affection.”
“Still confused.”
“Here’s what happened. After my grandfather died, I took a month to decompress. Then I decided to have a party inviting only the closest people to me, the ones who had supported me and loved me so genuinely during the bad years. It was really beautiful, with laughter and tears. Stories. Almost everyone spoke of the love and devotion my grandparents and I shared. We had large amounts of tequila. There was dancing and singing. But around midnight, right in the middle of one of my songs, Jimmy grabbed the microphone. He asked everyone to stop. He took my hand and knelt in front of me. He proposed.”
Nobel waits.
“I was so shocked and so was everyone else. But there he was laying his heart out in front of God and friends. The entire world stopped for me as I tried to figure out what to do. The only thing that I could come up with was, say yes. Say yes here, and then I would tell him it couldn’t possibly be when we were alone. He could blame the proposal on being drunk off his ass. I could blame my agreement on the same. And that’s how it went down.”
He sits with the information, absorbing the truth.
“That must have been brutal.”
“It was for both of us.”
“So you never had sex with him?”
“No. God no.”
“He still loves you. Anyone can see it.”
I don’t contradict the man. I’m not about to start lying now.
9
Nobel
The sound of moving water over smooth stones reaches through the trees. It grows louder with each step closer.
“Watch yourself here,” I say, extending a hand.
Who am I kidding? I’d trip over the fallen sapling before she would. Wouldn’t be surprised if she leaped over it and did a pirouette. Instead, she goes along with the offer, and takes my hand.
“We’re almost there. Just down one more slope.”
Passing through the Ponderosa Pines and Sycamores, we head to the river. Before long it comes onto view. A few steps, slope to shore, and we are on flat land.
The last time I was here my ankle was screaming, I was leaning on a rifle crutch and my mind was on the mountain girl I had just risked life and limb to see. The scenery has changed. Were the leaves always this varied in color? Did the scent of the Pines smell so wonderful? It’s like that with Dove. My view of the world around and within has changed with her effect.
“Let’s go to the fishing hole. I think they would like a good view of the river.”
She adjusts her backpack, and the precious cargo it holds. As we walk, silence accompanies steps. I’m following her lead and respecting the solemn occasion. I never asked when the scattering of ashes would take place. Figured she would know when the time
was right and let me know.
Last night in bed I saw her making a list and when I asked what for, she said, “I think I should take Grandpa and Grandma to the river tomorrow. I want to say something that honors them. Just making a few notes.”
My nod and kiss on her shoulder was agreement. Anything else would have been intrusive.
It only takes five minutes to reach the spot she has chosen for the final resting place. Light on the water sparkles like newly cut diamonds in the midday sun. The birds are singing an accompaniment, and a fat squirrel runs away between two rocks. There’s movement in the bushes. A rabbit appears and watches. Nature is gathering as witness.
“Here,” she says. “Let’s look for a spot.”
“Are you going to scatter on the incline, overlooking the river? Or on the shore?”
She thinks for a few moments before answering. Tears well in her beautiful brown eyes.
“Either way, they will become something new. Part of something else. Wind will blow them against the stones, or water will claim them as part of the river.”
As soon as the words leave her lips, she knows what to do. A look comes over her face as if she is a hundred percent certain.
“The edge of the river. That way they’ll be here forever and I will be able to be part of where they rest. Oh, Nobel.”
The last words soften and are lost on the breeze as she begins to cry. I take our backpacks off and hold her in my arms, kissing the top of her head.
“It’s all right babe. This is the perfect spot. Nothing is dead here.”
She looks up. “It’s so much better than a cemetery, right?”
“Listen to the songbirds. Your grandparents will be in good company.”
“Yes. This is the right place. Besides, Grandma always wished she could have seen this spot. Now she will. They used to fish together when she was younger.”
“You ready?”
“Yep.”
We take the two small urns from our backpacks. I hand mine to her.
“Want me to stay here?” I ask. “I can give you some privacy.”
With a shake of her head, she invites me into the intimate moment.
I follow her along the shore to where she had been camped that day we met. Right where the water deepens, and the trout have found their home.
“Here. I want to say something first.”
Facing the river, she speaks through her tears. As she begins, a hawk glides over the scene.
“Today you begin your final earthly adventure together, Grandma and Grandpa. You have to go on ahead of me. That’s all this is, nothing more. I know we will be together again. Thank you for my beautiful life. You created a happy home and a happy child. You taught me how to care. How to have faith in a Creator and in myself. Thank you for every sacrifice you made. There was big love between us three, and you made sure I knew to always look for it in life and not to settle for less than the real thing. How effortless you made it all seem. You are my heart.”
Tears fall freely now, and she wipes them on her shoulders. I allow mine to fall.
“So, I scatter your ashes at the edge of the Yellowstone, under the big Montana sky. The lapping waters will carry you together toward another shore. A more perfect one. A little bit of you will stay here amidst the stones, so I can come talk with you any time I want.”
Her head hangs and her voice breaks. “I can’t let you go completely. I will love you forever and promise to carry your legacy, your love, and your light as long as I live. Until I see you in heaven, you’ll be my sunshine.”
Dove hands the silver urn to me and takes the gold one in her hands. She unscrews the lid and holds it to her breast for just a few seconds. Then she tilts the jar close to the shore and gently pours the ashes. When that one is empty, I hand her the second. She does the same, mingling the remains one atop the other. A fine mist of ashes picked up by the gentle breeze lifts and floats into the air.
“See,” Dove says, watching the dispersing cloud. “Godspeed.”
And then she begins to sing “Calling All Angels”. The beautiful voice, breaking with emotion, rises. It follows the now faint cloud. Her love sent as companion to the untethered spirits.
She takes my hand, and we walk. The trip back is taken in silence. Just two people walking each other home. I kind of think being able to be quiet with someone is a greater indicator of a connection than being able to converse.
Walking into the clearing from the trees, my cell sounds. Van.
“What’s up?”
“We’re here to meet the girl.”
Ahead I see Aargons’ truck parked on the side of the house. Two figures sit on the tailgate. I’m surprised it took this long. They have no idea what we were doing at the river, so I can’t fault the timing.
I look at Dove and cover the speaker. “My brothers are here. Should I get rid of them?”
She looks at me like I’m crazy. If I’m not mistaken, she’s actually happy about the news.
“No! I want to meet them. Do I look all right? Is my nose red?”
“You’re good. If you’re up for it my parents invited us to dinner tonight. But I understand if it’s not the right time. I wasn’t even going to tell you.”
She leans over, grabs me by the face, kissing me a good one. “It’s exactly the right time.”
I hang up on Van, knowing he and Aargon see us approaching.
She sprints ahead without me. It passes through my mind how different our personalities are. Dove moves toward the unknown. I, on the other hand, stay firmly planted in the familiar. Immediately my brain begins to absorb the news.
Aargon and Van will love her. Okay this is good. I want her to meet the family. And before Scarlett’s wedding next month. This is as good a day as any. I can’t keep the girl to myself forever. Can I?
By the time I make it to the house the three of them are laughing.
“Gasses? Your mother named you after gasses? I’m sorry, that’s brilliant and twisted all in one!”
“Aargon, and Nobel are, I’m a metal, I think. When your mom is a chemist, anything can happen,” Van says.
“We like our names. She made us think it was a cool secret to know. It’s our sister Helium who got the short end of the stick,” Aargon says with a straight face.
For a few beats Dove isn’t sure she just heard right. Then she gets the joke and bursts out laughing.
“She’s heard me talk about Scarlett,” I add.
“Hey brother. Why have you been keeping this woman to yourself? She could hang with us. Keep up with the Lyon family circus.”
“I was going to introduce you.”
“When? You forced us to take things into our own hands,” Van says.
“We were really busy,” I say smiling.
When I look at Dove she’s smiling right along with me.
Van jumps down from the tailgate and Aargon follows. We start for the house.
“Tell me one thing, Dove,” Aargon says, climbing the steps. “Has he told you his birthday is this month? He doesn’t enjoy the day as much as we think he should. Most of our family celebrates birthdays like national holidays. Except for Nobel. We’re trying to change that.”
I shoot my brother the evil eye and shake my head. Dove looks as surprised as I thought she would.
“No, he didn’t tell me!”
I feel a sharp poke to my arm as we reach the door.
“It didn’t come up,” I say, letting her pass before me.
Turning, she grabs me by the shirt and brings her face close to mine. “Didn’t come up? That’s very funny.” She looks to my brothers and explains. “My birthday is next week! The twelfth. He’s been planning it for two weeks. What kind of bullshit is this?!”’I untangle from her hold and pin her hands behind her.
“You might want to rethink your aggressive ways, Princess.”
This pleases Aargon and Van immensely. They chuckle like they did when we were kids and our mom would call me out.
�
�It’s Nobel bullshit. Have you two met? He’s The Invisible Man,” Aargon adds. “Sometimes literally.”
I feel her arm link in mine. “Not to me he isn’t,” she says firmly.
Her comment lands in my heart and in my brothers’ minds. Her attitude and confidence are not unlike our mother’s. They like it, I can tell.
“Mom and Dad are having everyone for dinner,” Aargon says. He looks at Dove. “Can you and Noble make it?”
It’s said innocently, but my brother knows exactly what he’s doing going directly to her. They don’t know I’ve already beat them to the punch.
“I’d love to meet the people who created this one,” she says, pitching her thumb at me.
Endearing herself to the brothers Lyon.
They love her already. So do I.
10
Dove
Pop. Snap.
Nobel keeps cracking his knuckles, while we stand at his parents’ door. I have never seen him like this.
“Are you nervous?” I whisper.
“No,” he says a little too quickly. “Are you?
“No. I’m excited. Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s going to be fine.” I braid my fingers in his.
A look of hope passes behind his eyes. “Did you see something?”
“No. But I have a good feeling.” He wants a vision, but none appears. There is only the confidence I feel.
As the door swings open, we are greeted by a striking looking man. It is obviously Dad, because
French artist sensibilities are on full display. Long grey hair untethered, stacked bracelets, and the top three buttons of the chambray shirt are undone, revealing a chest full of hair. I look for the Uggs Nobel said are his staple. I’m kind of disappointed. Tennis shoes have taken their place.