Page 115 of Rugger: The Huntress

“You’re going to watch me or are you going to eat, dear?”

Sonnie was every bit of his father. I couldn’t quite detach myself from the revelation. Every move he made reminded me of his son.

“When I’m ready,” I stated.

Sniggering, his father nodded. “Yeah. She’d love you.”

Over lobster, scallops, crab meat shavings, oysters, jumbo shrimp, steak, and alcoholic beverages, we shared fond thoughts of Psalms. It was very clear that his father admired a man he had very little knowledge of. And, it was clear that he missed him dearly.

2.92 hours later…

Solomon stood tall with his arms stretched. His head shook from one side to the other.

“Well, as much as I hate to walk away from this table and depart from the closest thing I’ve had to having Sonnie here with me, I think I’ve held you hostage long enough. Tell my son, wherever he is and whoever he’s become– I’m proud of him. I love him and I hope one day soon we can be together again.”

My body lunged forward from his grip. He pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around me until my shoulders were pressed against his. He was in no hurry to release me. Feeling the weight of his son’s absence in his entire frame, I held onto him.

It didn’t matter that I’d rather remove him from my personal space in an instant or that physical touch was the furthest from my love language. He was hurting and he was an extension of Sonnie.

And, I, too, knew the pain he hoarded. Being separated from my family wore heavily on my spirit as well.

“Merry Christmas, Gazelle,” he whispered as he began to pull backward.

“Rugger,” I uttered as we broke our connection.

A raised brow of his displayed his confusion. I shared his bewilderment. Why I’d released such personal information was beyond me but it felt right. Just as the moment did. Just as the three hours I’d spent with him did. Just as catching him up on his son did.

“Rugger Childers,” I admitted, extending a hand, “He prefers Gazelle. So– let’s stick wi–”

“It was his mother’s favorite animal.”

I nodded with a smile. “Figures.”

“Goodnight, Gazelle, and Merry Christmas.”

Soreness tugged at my heartstrings. Three years ago, I would’ve been surrounded by my siblings and our parents as we opened presents gifted by one another before starting our Christmas Eve movie marathon.

On Christmas morning, we’d wake up and dine at the family table before all parting ways to spend our holiday as we pleased. Most of us never left our family residence. The rest would eventually find their way back, because we hardly had anyone but each other. Two years ago, that had all changed.

This year, Sonnie was the closest thing to family I had within reach. A trip to St. Catana would have sufficed, but sunny days and eighty degree weather made it hard to feel anything remotely close to the holiday spirit.

Rather had Priest and their son. Though she wouldn’t mind, I didn’t care to intrude on their first Christmas as a family. Sonnie was my safety net this holiday. His father had unknowingly become part of my small Christmas celebration. For them both, I was thankful.

“Merry Christmas.”

I walked out of the restaurant with my heart on my sleeves. Emotions mounted, threatening to spill from my eyes at any given moment. Sadness wasn’t the culprit this time. It was something else.

Something greater.

Something powerful.

Something foreign.

Something deeper.

Something profound.

Clyde’s presence was almost nonexistent in comparison to whatever was consuming me. I passed by him and climbed into the truck. Immediately, I was struck with the recognizable aroma. The distinctive pull, like magnets in a metal wasteland, pulled me across the small space between the seats and into outstretched arms.

---