Page 78 of Chasing Fireflies

“I’ll ask mine,” she says, turning the water on.

“No, I can’t deal with your mom’s nagging. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I get it,” she says, turning the water off and reaching for the dishtowel. She grabs the pots from the stove and scrapes the scraps into Bear’s food bowl. He hops up and goes to check it out. I stand up and push my chair under the table, looking down at my dog as he gobbles his dinner. Sara walks over to me and wraps her arms around my waist. I lean down and kiss her neck as I snake my hands up the back of her T-shirt.

“It’s all going to work out,” I tell her.

“Sometimes I’m not so sure,” she replies.

“Hey.” I put my finger under her chin. “Don’t think that way. We have each other. We’ll be fine.” She gives me a small smile, and I kiss her nose before I look over and see Bear is finished eating. “I’m going to take Bear for a walk.”

She lets me go and walks back over to the sink.

“I’ll be in the bath when you get back. I’m feeling achy today.”

“Coming down with something?” I ask.

“No, just one of those days,” she says more to herself.

I sigh. “Okay, we’ll be back. Come on, boy.” I push the screen door open and step out onto the porch. Sliding my hands into my pockets, I walk down the steps with Bear beside me. The evening sky shows the moon even though it’s not completely dark out yet. “They say only a lazy man can see the moon when it’s daylight, boy.” He looks up at me. “You think I’m lazy?” I ask, patting his head. He sneezes, and I laugh. “Come on. Let’s walk this food off.”

*

It’s the crack of dawn when I pull up to the house I grew up in. Even still, I know Mama is in there cooking breakfast and the coffee is ready. I take a deep breath and open the truck door. My boots sound heavy as I climb the steps I used to run down as a kid. I sigh as my knuckles tap on the door. A few minutes later, it opens and Mama is looking back at me. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her. Her brown eyes have aged, and she shows more strands of gray throughout her once dark brown hair, but it’s Mama.

“Cash?” she questions.

“Hey, Mama.”

She opens the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”

“Son, I might be a lot of things, but I’m not stupid. I know you were not just in the neighborhood at six in the morning. Come in,” she says, moving so I can step by. I smell coffee, and I hear bacon sizzling in the frying pan. “Come on in the kitchen and have some breakfast. How’s Sara doing?”

“Sara’s fine, Mama.”

“Have a seat. What have you been doing with yourself? You don’t call. You don’t come visit. You know I’ve been worried sick. I even asked your father to go check on y’all. He’s a stubborn ass, though. Never does what I ask him.”

I see he hasn’t told her he came to visit.

“Been busy. Just trying to get in a routine.”

“A routine? For six years?” she says sternly. “Here, have some coffee.” She hands me a cup, eyeballing me as she does. I set it down on the table, looking at the steam floating up from the cup. She stands by the stove, and I can feel her looking me over.

“Mama, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t get over the fact you and Dad didn’t come to our wedding.”

“I came,” she says, causing me to look up.

“You came?” I ask, surprised.

“Yes, I couldn’t miss my son’s wedding even if I didn’t approve. So I came and stood outside the door.”

“Why don’t you approve? You know how much Sara means to me.”

She sighs and takes a seat down beside me. “I know you love her. A parent can’t help but want the best for their child, though. We all lived in the same town, Cash. The stories we heard about Sara growing up—she was troubled and wild. Unstable. Her own parents even had problems controlling her.” She gets up and goes to flip the bacon. “I see how much you love her, and I see now that we were wrong for being the way we were. I’m sorry. We were being judgmental, and we’ve wasted so many years.” Her voice breaks, and I see her shoulders shake as she puts the fork down. I get up and walk over to her.

“It’s in the past, Mom. Please don’t cry.”

---