by Pamela Morsi
Kelly added, “The Coban is like unmistakable evidence that he’s moved from just recovering to rehabilitating.”
“Congratulations,” Red said.
“Thanks.”
Red talked to Kelly as Cam and Sean shared what Red thought of as guy talk about sports teams and dove hunting. Neither sounded particularly involved with any of it, but they kept at it until they got to a subject they were both interested in—music.
Sean had been into rock, but he was interested in honky-tonk and Cam knew enough about both to discuss bands and trends.
“So do you play at all?” Cam asked him.
Sean hesitated. “I used to,” he said. “I used to play guitar.” With a kind of fatalistic half grin at his burned arm, he added, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it now. I’ve lost some use of my hand. My elbow is pretty stiff and the ends of most of my fingers are gone.”
Cam nodded. “Could you hold a pick?”
“A pick?”
“I’ve heard about guys who switched hands,” Cam said.
Sean raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I don’t know if a guy could ever get any good left-handed.”
“Did you ever hear of Django Reinhardt?”
“No.”
“He’s one of the great jazz guitarists of the thirties and forties,” Cam told him. “He was badly burned and lost two of his fingers when he was eighteen. They said he’d never play again, but he taught himself a new technique despite his injuries. If you had a left-handed guitar, you wouldn’t have the dexterity issue.”
“That’s true,” Sean said thoughtfully.
“Music is all in the brain anyway,” Cam said. “And the brain is very good at compensating.”
The two continued to discuss the possibility. As they did, the quiet, shy young man opened up to being the bright, funny, interesting fellow that his wife had wanted them to meet.
“I think we’d better go,” Red said a few minutes later. “We don’t want to wear you out.”
“At least not on our first visit,” Cam added.
“I’ll walk you out,” Kelly said, before adding to Sean, “I promise to be right back and carrying Christmas cookies.”
Once they returned to the family room, there were hugs and high fives and Christmas greetings all around.
Kelly opened the present that Olivia and Daniel had bought for Kendra with their own money. It was a very soft little lamb that the little girl immediately began chewing on.
“Thanks so much for coming,” Kelly said to Red. “It means a lot to me.”
“You and Sean mean a lot to us, too,” Red told her.
As they walked across the parking lot, Cam snaked an arm around her waist.
“They seem to be doing okay,” he said.
“Yeah,” Red agreed. “But it’s still so scary. How much is he going to recover? How is he going to work? What are they going to do?”
“Hey, don’t start looking down that road too far. You’ll scare yourself,” he told her. “Remember, we’re learning to live happily with uncertainty.”
Red nodded.
Later that night as she tucked Daniel into bed, she understood how hard it was for humans to do that.
“Mom is coming home tomorrow,” Daniel stated firmly.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Red told him. “Maybe the day after.”
“No, tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Red agreed with a kiss on his forehead. “I’m going to hope so, too.”
To: [email protected]
December 25 6:21 p.m.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Almost home
Mom I am hoping that by the time you read this you will be sitting here beside me. I don’t think I can stand more waiting. We are still not having Christmas until you get here. But it looks like Christmas in my house and Aunt Phils house too. I guess everything you ordered for us on the internet must be here. Red won’t let us open the packages until you are here, so they are still in the shipping boxs. Very funny! Forget red and green. Brown is now my favorite Christmas color.
We went to the hospital today to see Kendras dad. He is burnt on his chest and neck and his arm. We didnt get to see him but there were other burnt men there. They look bad but I remember how you told us to look past the outside. Their insides look real good. Before we went I reminded Daniel too and he was cool.
I have tried to remember everything you told me. I have tried to do my duty and be a good soldier at home while you are a good soldier away. I have done my best Mom. But now I really want you to be home. Please be home tomorrow. I know you can’t make the army moved faster and I am sorry that I whine but I miss you too much.
C U tomorrow! I hope. I hope. I hope. And I luv u as ever forever.
Livy
33
Red’s daughter made it home the day after Christmas, but just barely. A few minutes after three in the afternoon, Bridge called to say she was stateside. Her commercial airline flight from the coast would arrive at the airport late. It might be the last flight of the day.
The place was rather quiet, except for the noisy exuberance of a small band of red, white and blue well-wishers. Everybody held signs and flags. Red would not have thought to bring anything, but Olivia, who had vivid memories of being through this before, told her what they needed. She and Olivia carried flags with streamers. And Daniel, with Olivia’s help and some crayons, fashioned his own sign that read Welcome Home, Mom.
These were the families of the soldiers from the same medical unit as Bridge. They had been through the same long stretch of separation and they were feeling the same sense of adulation at a small victory in a big dangerous world.
Babies squalled. Young wives checked their lipstick a dozen times. Children like Olivia and Daniel peered down the long ramp in expectation.
When the first person dressed in desert camouflage was spotted, a whoop of joy went through the crowd. There was cheering and applause and shrieks of recognition.
Red searched the faces. Is that her? No. Is that her? No. Would she even recognize her daughter? Would she even know her if she saw her?
Suddenly Daniel broke away from the group and went running up the ramp. Red called him back and then caught sight of him enveloped in the hug of arms in uniform.
“Mom!” She heard Olivia beside her, jumping up and down. She was desperate to get to her mother, but determined to follow the no admittance beyond this line rule.
Bridge half carried, half dragged Daniel to the end of the ramp, where she dropped down to her knees to clasp both her children close.
Red stood back slightly, not wanting to intrude. This was Bridge’s family. She deserved to have time to just enjoy them.
When she rose to her feet and acknowledged her mother, Red gave her a hug. It was quick, it wasn’t much, but she hadn’t hugged her daughter in way too long. Bridge seemed startled but not displeased.
With the rest of the loud, hugging, kissing, laughing crowd, they made their way to the baggage claim and picked up Bridge’s duffel before heading to the parking garage.
Daniel and Olivia were both talking so fast, it was as if they were trying to get in every word they’d wanted to tell her in all the time that she was gone.
At last, close up, in the passenger seat beside her, Red cast quick glances at her daughter. Had those lines been on her face before? Maybe she was just tired. She was toned and tan, her red curls were smoothed back and tucked into a very neat and circumspect bun. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, but she never did, allowing her freckles to be a part of her beauty, not a detriment to it.
As Red maneuvered through the airport traffic and onto the city streets that would get them home, the kids hardly took a breath. They were so excited. Daniel was rocking in his seat as if he could barely be tethered to the city around him. With a big smile, Bridge seemed to be drinking in their simultaneously jabbering voices as if it was an elixir of youth. She was lau
ghing and listening and looked happier than Red could remember seeing her.
At the bungalow in Alamo Heights, Red pulled in to the driveway. She saw Bridge’s eyebrows go up.
“Cute,” she said. “Not exactly your style.”
“It was Cam’s grandmother’s,” Red told her. “He calls it his lace-doily crib.”
“Wait till you see my room,” Olivia gushed from the backseat. “I’ve got a bed with fairies painted on it. Cam’s mom painted those fairies when she was my age. It is so totally cool, Mom, you’ll love it.”
“My room is where Cam’s buddies stay,” Daniel piped in. “That’s why I sleep there, ’cause it’s for guys.”
The children piled out of the car and rushed to the porch. Red and Bridge walked to the back to get her duffel. Once the hatch was shut, Red held out the keys to her daughter.
“This one is the house,” she said.
“You’re not coming in?”
“Not unless you need me to,” Red said. “And I don’t think you’ll need me. You should get some time with your kids.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“I would like to come over tomorrow, since that’s going to be Christmas for us,” Red said. “If that wouldn’t be intruding.”
“No, it will be fine.”
“And Cam’s aunt, who’s been taking care of the kids in the evenings, is fixing a holiday dinner tomorrow. You’re not obligated to go. I’m not sure you’d want to spend your first day back with strangers.”
Bridge raised an eyebrow. “People who take care of my children are not strangers,” she said. “So we’ll see you tomorrow.”
Red waved goodbye to the kids and walked out to the CRX parked at the curb. The minute she drove away from the house, she began crying.
She would miss the kids. She would miss the strange new life in affluent suburbia. She would miss the little house. But she wasn’t crying about any of that. Her tears were for the daughter, who turned out so well, now home and safe at last.
34
The official Christmas Day of the family began with Red’s ringtone trinkling out the first few stanzas of “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky-Tonk Angels.” Red buried her head farther in the pillow, determined to ignore it. Cam rolled over, spooning against her back, and reached beyond her to pick up the phone. He clicked the Talk button and then pressed the device against her face.
“Say hello,” he suggested.
“Hello,” Red moaned.
“Grandma! Grandma! You won’t believe what I got, I got a scooter and it folds up and it’s got a bell and Mom says I can ride it on the sidewalk and maybe to school but that’s a ‘we’ll see’ but I think I can and I got video games and Livy got her own computer. Her very own computer…and…and—”
“My turn,” Red heard Olivia say, before a little muffled fumbling.
“My mom buys the coolest presents, wait till you see,” Olivia told her. “When are you coming over? Mom said you were coming over.”
Red had managed to pull herself into a seated position. “Uh…I don’t know…. What time is it?” she asked.
Olivia hollered, “Mom! What time is it?” assaulting Red’s eardrum.
A couple of seconds later, her daughter was on the phone.
“I’m sorry to call so early, Red,” Bridge said. “It’s only eight in the morning. But the kids just couldn’t wait to tell you what they got.”
“No, it’s fine,” Red said.
“As soon as you’re up and dressed, come on over. The kids miss you and they want you to see all the plunder.”
“Cam, too,” Red heard Olivia say to her mother. “Invite Cam, too.”
“Absolutely,” Bridge said. “Bring Cam with you, too.”
After she hung up, Red turned to assess the attractive naked man beside her.
“How did you know that call would be from the kids?”
He grinned at her. “Who else would be calling a tired old grandma on Christmas morning?” he answered.
“Who you calling old and tired?”
Cam laughed, grabbed her at the waist and flipped her over on her stomach and took a nip out of her right buttock.
“Ouch! What are you doing?”
“I just think it’s time I took a bite out of your butt,” he said. “I’m a man who likes nothing better than a hefty serving of aged armadillo for breakfast.”
Red twisted beneath him until she was on her back.
“You no-account chicken sh—”
He shushed her insult with his lips on her own. By the time he’d finished kissing her, she was no longer interested in a conversation.
Consequently it was a couple of hours later before they showed up at the bungalow. After introductions, the inventory of gifts and the fashion show of new clothes, Cam and the kids began playing tennis on the new video-game system.
Red and Bridge ended up in the kitchen.
“This is a nice place,” Bridge told her, indicating the bungalow. “It’s very homey, in a nice neighborhood. It was a good place for the kids to be while I was gone.”
Red nodded. “Cam says you can stay here as long as it takes for you to get settled,” she said. “Aunt Phyl is looking for something else around here. She knows everybody in town and I think she’d like to help you find a place here so the kids won’t have to switch schools.”
“I don’t know,” Bridge said. “It would be great. But I’m thinking that with the prices in this neighborhood, we’d have to move into an apartment. And my kids really need a yard these days.”
Red couldn’t help but agree with that.
“Well, you’re coming into a bit of money and that might help.”
“Say what?”
“My mother passed away several months ago,” Red said evenly. “She’s left you some money.”
“I thought you said that your parents were dead.”
“My father was dead,” Red answered. “My mother was dead to me.”
Bridge just stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter, her expression full of questions.
“I didn’t even know that she knew about you,” Red said. “I haven’t talked to her since I left Piney Woods at sixteen. But apparently she did, because she listed you by name on her will.”
“Piney Woods? Is this Patsy Grayson?”
Red nearly choked.
“You know her?”
“No, I don’t,” Bridge answered. “But she’s called me several times over the years. She first contacted me when I was in high school. But she didn’t say she was your mother. She said she knew who my father was. She said that he was some rich muckety-muck in this podunk town and that if I confronted him, he would pay for my college.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her I had my own plans and I wasn’t interested,” Bridge answered. “She sounded to me like somebody with her own agenda. The last thing I needed was to be dragged into something like that.”
It was hard for Red to take in, that her mother had tracked her daughter down.
“Well, she’s left you some money,” Red said. “And it is yours, so you should take it.”
Bridge nodded. There was a long silence between them before she asked the question that was on her mind. “Is the rich muckety-muck my dad?”
Red took a deep breath and answered as honestly as she could.
“Technically, yes,” she replied. “But I like to think of him as more of a sperm donor.”
Bridge chuckled lightly. “I’ve got an ex that’s kind of like that,” she said. “Don’t worry, Red. I have no intention of trying to drag some DNA stranger into my life. If you decided that he didn’t deserve to be a part of our family, I trust that you had sufficient reason.”
Red was surprised by this admission.
“Thank you,” she replied simply.
“I’m the one who needs to say that, Red,” Bridge responded, her voice softer and more serious. “I want to thank you for taking in the kids. I know you had to do it, but to be comp
letely honest, I had my doubts about whether it would work. Maybe I’m remembering it wrong, but when I think about my childhood, all I remember is that you were always at work or asleep.”
Red swallowed her guilt and nodded. “I don’t think you’re remembering it wrong,” she admitted. “The reason I never take any bows about how well you’ve turned out is because I see your success as coming in spite of how you were raised, not because of it.”
Bridge chuckled. “You know, just a few years ago I would have agreed with you,” she said. “But now I think you’re wrong. You did what you had to do to raise me. I can’t even imagine what Olivia and Daniel are going to ultimately think of a mother who deliberately brings them into the world and then spends whole years on the other side of the globe from them.”
“Don’t take that guilt trip,” Red admonished. “What you do is important. Yes, it’s a sacrifice for you and one for the kids, as well. But you should be nothing but proud of doing your duty. And your children will be, too. They’ll grow up to be better people living in what is hopefully a better world. Don’t for one moment allow yourself to imagine differently.”
Bridge grinned at her. “That’s one thing I do remember about my childhood,” she said. “If I was even hinting at a chance to screw up, you always read me the riot act about making good choices. So, okay, Red. I’ll choose to give myself a break. But you have to give yourself one, too.”
Around noon, the entire group traversed the alley gate to Aunt Phyl’s house. The kids ran ahead and charged through the patio doors without even a hint of knocking. The adults followed, immediately swept up in the delicious aromas of the season. Phyl and Bridge hit it off immediately, possibly because they were both tremendous fans of Olivia and Daniel.