by Tiffani Lynn
A few miles off of the main strip, we turn down the mile-long dirt road that leads to his parents’ house. There is wire fence on both sides of the road, designed to keep the livestock in. They graze that whole front of the property in the spring and summer. The back of the property is where the soybeans and corn are grown. The ranch-style house and two-story barn are a deep red color and look like they were painted this year. The utility building off to the side is white and sports a fresh coat of paint. Everything is covered in fresh snow, giving the appearance of a Christmas card.
I’ve always loved this place and if there were a hospital somewhere nearby, I probably would’ve wanted to move here and help his parents. But I’m a nurse who loves her job and didn’t want to give it up completely.
As Wes puts the Bronco in park, the back door opens and his little, short grey-haired mother steps out with a big smile on her face. His dad, who also has short grey hair, but is much taller, about the same height as Wes, comes out right behind her with a similar smile on his face. They wait patiently as I open the door and climb out, and Wes reaches behind him to grab the cat carrier and then exits.
I only take a step or two toward them because nervousness sweeps through me again. I know I did them wrong. They didn’t deserve to be swept from my life. I missed them terribly and I still love them like I did five years ago.
“Come here, my sweet girl,” his mother commands with a tinge of excitement and a ton of love. I breathe a huge sigh of relief and move toward her. I bend down and she wraps me in her little arms and holds me tight.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she tells me in my ear. “So glad you’ve come home.”
The tears slip down my face unchecked and I let the beautiful memories of every other visit to their home flow through me.
Finally, Wes’s dad comes up. “Hey! It’s my turn. Quit hogging my girl.” Then I’m passed from her to him and Wes was correct. His dad’s hugs have always been like magic, taking away any kind of hurt and infusing love. They’re strong but not too tight, warm without being stifling and always what I need at any given moment.
“Come on, let’s get inside or Zuzu is going to lose patience. She’s been good the whole ride, but I’m sure she knows where we are and is ready to be spoiled.”
“Come on in. I made you a blackberry pie. Those berries were so good this year, by far the best fruit we had all summer.”
When we go in, it’s like nothing has changed since I’ve been gone. The outside might have gotten a paint job, but the inside is comfortingly the same. There are a few cartoon cow pictures on the walls as decor in the kitchen, but the rest of the house is covered in pictures of the farm over the years and their kids and grandkids. The couch is the same brown plaid one that’s been there forever. The recliner might be newer but still not brand-new. There is a scent that hangs in the air, sort of a mix between pie and fried food. I love it.
His mom follows me inside. “You know where your room is. Wes, you and Dad take your stuff back there. I need to get some pie in Jess. It’s been too long. She’s probably having withdrawals.” We all laugh and I nod because there’s nothing better to eat than her pie, except Wes’s omelets, but I don’t tell her that.
Sixteen
Wes
My dad and I head out to the Bronco after I set Zuzu free in the house. She follows my mom and Jess into the kitchen.
“How’s she doing, son?” my dad asks as he pulls our bags out of the passenger side and I grab all of Zuzu’s crap.
“She was afraid to face you guys, so she’s been quiet today. Otherwise, she’s been okay. Not great, but also not a mess. I’m doing my best to keep her steady and help her get through this shit.”
“I know you are. Your mother and I have worried for years about her.”
“I’m taking care of her the best I can.”
“You’re a son any man would be proud of,” he tells me, not for the first time.
“I don’t know about that, but I’m glad you think so, Dad.”
He nudges me with his boney shoulder. Even with his big wool coat I can tell he’s lost weight. I hate watching my parents get older.
After we set our stuff down in my room, we make our way to the kitchen, where we find Mom and Jess finishing off their pieces while giggling about something. My dad and I sit in the two empty seats available at the little round kitchen table and dig into our pie. My mom wasn’t kidding about the blackberries being good, but with them baked into pie form, they are superb.
“Mom, this might be the best pie I’ve ever eaten.”
“Oh, son. You say that every time.”
“And I mean it every time too. Don’t tell me after all these years you’re immune to the power of the pie?”
“Point taken,” she concedes.
We all laugh.
The rest of the afternoon moves easily with everyone catching up. Around five o’clock, my mom and Jess start dinner and get in a familiar rhythm. My dad and I are sitting in the living room watching a show about Alaska when my sister and her kids push through the door in a whirlwind of noise and activity.
“Uncle Wes!” my six-year-old nephew, Tommy, yells as he leaps over the back of the couch to get to me quicker.
I grab him in a headlock and tickle him. “You know not to come over the back of the couch, you crazy kid! Now I must tickle you until you promise to follow the rules!” He squeals and giggles uncontrollably, squirming to get away from my tickle assault.
Finally, I let him go and am hit full frontal by my nine-year-old niece, Paulina, who wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes tight. “Hey there, my beautiful girl. How have you been?”
She looks up at me and I know instantly that her eyes are too sad for a nine-year-old. “I’ve been okay, Uncle Wes.”
“I can tell you aren’t telling the truth but we will save the real conversation for later.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Uncle Wes. My mom needs a hug from you.”
“I will make sure to give her one as long as I get one more from you. You give the best hugs.” She blushes a little and hugs me again. I hold tight a second longer than normal because I can tell she needs it. I make a mental note to take some time with her before Jess and I head back.
When we let go, I head for the kitchen, where I find my sister and Jess locked in a strong hug, both crying. Of course, Zuzu is meowing at their feet, clearly pissed that she hasn’t garnered Maryann’s attention.
Paulina comes in behind me and leans into my side and quietly says, “I told you she needs one of your hugs. She’s been crying lots.”
“I’ll take care of it, kiddo,” I reassure her, with an arm around her shoulders until the two women separate. When they do, I step closer to her so she knows I’m not waiting anymore.
“Come here, Maryann.” I pull her against me and hold her through a full-blown sob session. I should have been coming here more often to check on her through this divorce. I’ve been twice, but that’s clearly not enough. As her body shakes with emotion, I hold tighter and kiss her hair. My sister and I have always been close. The only time we weren’t was when I came back from Afghanistan when Darrien died and I lost Jess. I pulled away from everyone.
It took me a while to get back to them, but I finally did. Now I realize I wasn’t around enough.
“Guess we need to talk,” I whisper against her hair.
She nods her head but doesn’t say anything.
“We will make time.”
My sister settles down and we roll back into family life as if nothing has changed, even though Dan is gone, Jess is no longer my wife, and Tommy is a new addition since Jess was around. He was born while I was deployed the last time and she never got the chance to meet him because of everything that happened.
At the end of the night, I approach Maryann. “Can we have the kids tomorrow? I’m taking Jess shooting and I think it’s a good idea for the kids to go. Also, I could use some time with them.”
“It’s a schoo
l day.”
“I know, but do you think we could make an exception?”
Her face softens. “Yeah, sounds good.” She leans around me and yells into the living room where the kids are working on a puzzle with Jess and my mom. “Kids! Want to spend the day with Uncle Wes and Aunt Jess tomorrow?”
“And miss school?” Paulina asks.
“Yeah. One day won’t hurt.”
“Yes!” They both scream and start jumping around.
Mom pipes up behind us. “They can just stay the night here with us tonight. We have clothes here for them. Then you don’t have to drive back over tomorrow. Take the night off and relax for a change.”
“That’s good. Thanks, Mom.”
The next morning, after an awesome farm-style breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage and biscuits, Jess, the kids, my dad, and I drive out to the back part of the property on the snow mobiles. We set up a shooting range area back there when I was young and I come out here every time I come home. I just like to keep those skills sharp.
My niece has come back here to shoot with me, but this is a first for Tommy. My dad takes Tommy aside and shows him how to handle the gun, how to load the gun and how to be safe with it while I pull out the Glock 17 9mm and load the magazine. Then I hand it to Jess to hold while I walk to the end and attach the paper targets on the boards we have up. Once I’m safely behind her, next to Paulina, Jess takes several shots at the target. All of them hit the face region and one hits the heart. When she finishes, she turns and smiles at me, victory clear in her expression.
Next, I let Jess help Paulina, and then before she fires the gun, she slips her headphones on to help block the noise. Paulina isn’t as accurate but she gets one in the neck and one in the shoulder. That’s better than I expected since it’s been a while.
We spend a little over an hour taking turns. Once we are finished, we ride the property on the snow mobiles for a little fun before we head back to the farm and have lunch. After lunch, I volunteer for Paulina and me to go to out and brush the horses down. My intent is to spend some time talking to her and figuring out what has her so sad. Jess talks Tommy into teaching her how to play some game on Xbox and they disappear into the living room.
I start with small talk while Paulina and I stand side by side, brushing Ignatius—one of two quarter horses my parents own. We talk a little about school and her friends before slowly rolling into what’s going on.
“My dad doesn’t want to see us,” Paulina softly confesses.
“What do you mean? Your dad loves you.”
“Not anymore. He didn’t just leave Mommy, he left us all. I heard her on the phone telling him that he could come get us whatever day worked for him. Then she started to fight with him. All the days she told him he could come, he must have said no because she kept trying until she finally hung up the phone and sat on the floor in the kitchen and cried.”
“Did Tommy hear the phone conversation?”
“No. He was outside playing in the yard. I didn’t tell her I heard the phone call because I didn’t want her to cry, but we were in the car a couple days later and Tommy asked when we would see Dad again and she started crying and said she didn’t know when.”
“Did you tell anyone you overheard the phone call?”
“Who am I gonna tell?”
“A teacher, Grandma or Grandpa, a friend?”
“No, it’s embarrassing that my dad doesn’t love us anymore.”
I glance over to find that her lip is quivering as she tries to fight the emotion. “Come here.” I pull her away from the horse and hold her tight. “Your dad still loves you. How can he not? You and your brother are the coolest kids I know. He’s probably embarrassed about how he’s treated your mom. It’ll work out; give it a little time and he’ll be so sad without you that he won’t be able to stay away anymore. But until then, I’m going to give you my phone number and if you need someone to talk to, you can call me any time, day or night. You can use your mom’s phone or grandma or grandpa's phone to call me. I’ll always answer when it’s you.”
“Thanks, Uncle Wes.”
“No problem, kiddo. Now tell me about your mom.”
She spends the next twenty minutes telling me about how her mom tries to stay strong in front of them but she can hear her crying sometimes at night.
“One of those nights when you hear her crying in her room, go crawl into bed with her. Wrap her in a tight hug and tell her that’s from me. I know she’s your mom and she’s supposed to be strong, but it’s okay for her to let out the hurt too. You can be there for her just like she’s there for you.”
“You don’t think she’ll get mad?”
“No. It will probably help her feel better to know someone is looking out for her too. You don’t need to do anything else. Just hug her and hold her hand.”
“I wish you lived here, Uncle Wes.”
“It’s not close to any hospitals for Aunt Jess to work at and she loves being a nurse. I have to respect that too, but I will make it a point to come back more often. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long.” I squeeze her hand one last time to let her know she’s not alone before we finish brushing the horses.
Seventeen
Jess
When Wes comes back in, I can tell there’s a basic shift in his demeanor. He tries to cover it up with smiles and questions for his parents about recent life on the farm, but I know him too well. Wes calls his sister before dinner and offers for us to take the kids back to her place later. We eat dinner with his parents and the kids, and then load up to drive them home.
It’s cold, the sun has set and the wind is whipping tonight, so we’re all bundled up.
As we are riding down the road, Tommy asks, “Are you gonna fix our stove, Uncle Wes?”
I glance at Wes and watch his brow furrow as he looks into the rearview mirror to see Tommy in the back seat. “How long has your stove been broken?”
“I don’t know, a long time.”
“Why didn’t your mom call a repairman?”
“Repairmen cost money, she said.”
“Did she tell Grandpa?”
Paulina finally interjects quietly. “She said he has enough to worry about without adding us to the list. We’re okay. We’re using the microwave. We don’t need the stove.”
I reach across the space between Wes and me and rest my hand on his thigh in a silent gesture to let him know I’m there and I get it and to keep his cool. He takes a deep breath.
“I’m gonna take a look at that stove and see what I can do. Is there anything else that needs fixing?”
“Our tub is clogged with gunk. I don’t know what that is, but I’m using Mom’s shower. It stinks not slip-sliding in the tub.”
Wes cracks a little grin. “Yeah, showers are not as good as slip-sliding in the tub.
Anything else?”
“Yeah, there is something hanging outside my window. It’s creepy so I usually crawl in bed with Paulina.”
“Okay, I’ll check that out. Anything for you, Paulina?”
Her voice is so quiet in the back, I can barely hear her. “The light in my closet is out.”
“Your mom can’t change a light bulb?”
“She can but she has too much to do. I’ll be okay.”
“It’s okay, kiddo, I got it. Do you have any bulbs at home?”
“No.”
“Jess and I will take care of it tomorrow.”
The rest of the ride is quiet except for the radio. When we pull into the driveway, Maryann comes outside to meet us and we all disembark from the Bronco.
Tommy runs to his mom, shouting, “Uncle Wes is gonna fix the stove!”
Maryann’s head shoots up and she looks at her brother with a little bit of fear and a lot of regret.
Wes goes in for a hug first and holds her for longer than normal, and I can hear his deep voice murmuring to her.
When she pulls away, she nods and wipes at her eyes. Then she hugs me and whispers, “Thanks.”
I’m not sure what it’s for, so I stay quiet. After that, we go inside and Wes takes a walk around the house, making a list on his phone of everything he’s going to need to fix all the little bits and pieces that she’s having problems with. Then he looks at the stove and declares that he may be good with cars, but knows nothing about stoves. He says he will call the repairman tomorrow and get it taken care of. When the kids head to their bedrooms to get ready for bed, Wes asks what we both want to know. “Is Dan paying you child support?”
“Yeah, sort of. Well, he was, but he lost his job and hasn’t had any money to pay for a little while.”
“When did he lose his job?”
“About three months ago.”
“So you haven’t gotten child support in three months. How far behind are you with the bills?”
Her eyes shift to the floor and I reach out and grab her hand. “Don’t be embarrassed. We just want to help.”
“A month on everything except the electric.”
I can’t imagine the restraint that it took Wes not to roar the walls down. He might be quiet, but he’s fierce when it comes to his family. He takes a deep breath and pulls his sister into his arms. She keeps hold of my hand so I’m oddly close to both of them, to the point that Wes wraps his arm around me too. When he lets go, he looks her in the eyes and says softly, so the kids can’t possibly overhear, “I’m gonna help you, but you have to promise me that you won’t ever let it get like this again. If you are going to miss one payment, you call me or tell Dad. If something breaks, call a repairman if you won’t call Dad. I will pay for it. Raise your kids in a home where everything works right and looks nice. Be happy when you’re with them instead of stressed out. I have your back.”
As he’s talking, my eyes well up with tears, but I fight them back. I’ve never been an overly emotional person, but Wes keeps reminding me why I fell in love with him in the first place. All these years since our split, he’s still been coming around to handle things for me because it’s ingrained in him to take care of those you love. How did I not see it? How did we get to the point where we didn’t see the love we still held for one another?