Page 8 of Losing his Daddy

“How long do you have, Clancy? The truth.”

“We aren’t sure. The doctor said that it’s bad enough for me to get my will sorted out soon, but he told me I could enjoyChristmas and the New Year. It could be weeks or years. We won’t know.” I answered as honestly as possible.

I could sense he wanted to ask something else, but noise from the other room has us turning.

“What’s all this racket about?” I pretended to grumble at the men until I saw a face I’d recognize anywhere. My world froze, then sped up all at once. “Atticus?”

He stood in the doorway, a shy smile on his face. It was the same one he used to give to me and his mother when he was nothing but a scrappy toddler getting into trouble with kids from school.

“Hey, Pops! Merry Christmas.” Atticus approached me slowly, his gaze locked on me. The room had gone quiet to watch our exchange. He was their family as much as he was mine. Time didn’t change that.

When he got close enough, I used all the strength I had to pull him into a hug. Tears filled my eyes as I hugged my son for the first time in far too long.

“A merry Christmas indeed,” I said softly.

Travis snatched up his gift, then Atticus was searching for food. It felt like no time had passed with how things settled into place. I took my seat on the couch, eyes on my family. Not just the one person here who was blood related to me, but the rest who I’d welcomed along the way.

Gerald subtly slipped his hand into mine. I let the move slide because really, what did it matter anymore? Hiding my sexuality had been an idiotic move. As time passed, it became a habit not to let anyone know.

And now… well, it felt like something I didn’t need to add to the pressures ahead. What if me telling them all caused a rift? I didn’t want my final days to be bombarded with hurt feelings because I kept it secret.

Still, I could give him this. Small touches and the closeness we’d only shared in private.

I didn’t want to let go until I had to.

Chapter Four

Gerald

A partof me died the day they put Clancy Coleman in the ground.

It wasn’t really noticeable at first. There was grief, just like the others around me. We’d all been touched by Clancy’s big heart in one way or another.

For Atticus, it was the loss of a father he’d run from for years, only to return right at the end.

For me, it was losing the other half of me. The half that kept me glued together.

Without Clancy to keep me balanced, I began to crumble day by day. First, it was my ability to focus. Then it became my desire to do anything at all. Why work when there was no point in it?

A couple of weeks after the funeral, I found myself unable to sleep at night. I was like the princess and the pea. Every minuscule change in the mattress beneath me felt like a seismic shift. I longed for the bed I’d shared with Clancy. It was feather soft, like a cloud gently laid on a wooden frame.

Even more than that simple difference was the change of sleeping alone. I’d never noticed how close I’d clung to the man I loved. His body and mine were molded together, the shapes worn down until there was no other way to rest.

I couldn’t replicate it no matter how I tried. Stacks of pillows were useless. Blankets were worse. I’d even tried using some of Clancy’s cologne. I thought the scent of him might calm me enough to rest.

What a joke that had been. I’d cried into the pillow for hours, his memory an overwhelming entity suffocating my ability to breathe.

So much had changed lately. I wasn’t even sure I could find my way out of the hole I’d fallen into. Immediately after Clancy passed, there were a million tasks to take care of. I’d focused so hard on them; I didn’t allow myself a moment to miss him. It wasn’t really intentional. I’d merely been wanting to help since I knew so much of the ranch’s inner workings.

Atticus appreciated the help, which he told me often. I knew he probably could have figured it all out. Hell, I’m sure there were all kinds of paperwork in place for the transition. But of course, I saw an opportunity to avoid reality for a while, and I jumped in with both feet.

Now that everything was mostly settled, I had to face the facts of what life looked like without Clancy Coleman in it. I found I didn’t like it very much.

There were so many pieces of my life wrapped around him and this ranch. Simple things even. Like dinner time for one.

We all ate together every night. The ranch hands, Clancy, and our ranch cook Rosie, all sat together to enjoy whatever magic Rosie had whipped up.

After the funeral, Rosie decided it was time to leave the ranch. While I understood her choice, it left a hole in the routine. Harlan stepped up to fill the role, but it wasn’t the same. Add in the empty chair at the head of the table that no one dared sit in just yet and, well, I felt lost. I rarely attended a dinner anymore. It was easier to wait until they’d all finished, then I’d go grab aplate of something. The few times I braved it enough to join, I sat as far away from that empty chair as I could.

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