Page 11 of True North

Across the field, at the house, Ma pushes out the back screen door and stands on the top step. Tea towel in hand, she dries a plate. I wave a hand, and she returns the gesture. The silent check-in she always does when I work with Pa. As if she trusts him about as much as I do.

I can handle the old fool. The only person he’s a danger to out here is himself. Inside the house is a different story.

Something thuds.

The cattle startle.

I search for the old man’s hat.

Nothing.

Fuck.

Jumping off my horse, I climb through the wooden rails and walk to where the heifers have separated. Between hooves and covered in dirt, he lies, out cold. I knew he was drunk, but this is a new level. Even for him.

I roll him over with one hand and his head lolls. “Jesus Christ.”

I stand up, heading for the rail. “Ma! Come grab the gate, will ya?”

She drops the plate and towel to the step and hurries to the yards, her worn long skirt hovering over the golden grasses as she goes. When she sees her husband lying in the dirt, her face falls. She grips the gate, staring for a moment before undoing the latch and standing ready to open it for me.

I talk to my old man, scooping his thin frame off the ground, and carry him home, following Ma as she walks ahead. I hope she doesn’t think this is her fault. She’s partial to giving him whatever he wants these days, if only to keep the peace.

God, how the fuck is this still our damn life?

She pads up the back stairs and pushes the door open. “On the daybed, my love. I’ll clean him up.”

“Let him sleep it off, Ma. You don’t need to baby him.”

“Maybe.” The word is no more than a whisper.

Inside, the house smells almost like roast beef. The scent of seasoned veggies, herbed and cookin’, tangles with the odd meaty fragrance.

“What’s cookin’, Ma?”

“I thought more food, hearty meals, might soak up the extra booze he’s been taking in. A roast, etc.”

“Always lookin’ out for him.” I kiss her forehead. “Don’t understand why.”

“One day, Harrison Rawlins, you will love someone so much, you would turn yourself inside out to make sure they’re okay. With no regard to your own well-being. Then, you will realize you have something real. Something worth fighting for.”

She pats my cheek like she’s done for the past twenty-eight years. I force a smile. I had that. At least, I thought I did.

Louisa was my person. The one girl who had me in pieces with just a smile. For every second we were together, until the day she smashed my heart to smithereens. I still love her. Probably always will. We were young. But you don’t feel that deeply, that completely, for someone if it’s simply a fleeting phase.

When I don’t respond, Ma tilts her head. “You’ll find it again, I promise.”

I can’t even respond.

The phone rings, and she rushes to grab it before it wakes the old man.

“Oh hello, Evelyn.”

Ma’s best friend. I have the phone bill to prove it.

I nod asee you laterand push for the back door. I haven’t allowed myself to think about her since that night.

That doesn’t mean she hasn’t infiltrated my thoughts every damn day since.

---