Page 93 of Country Music Cowboy
“Well, Hank honey, the poor girl doesn’t exactly have the best luck, now does she?” Momma smiled. “Her father, her mother, poor Johnny…”
“What about them?” Krystal asked.
Momma cleared her throat. “Johnny’s not the only one who’s struggled with drugs and alcohol.” She shook her head, picking up her lemonade. “Does she drink or do drugs? I only ask because I don’t want that sort of thing around you, Travis.” She smiled. “And now this mess with her father. I hope it won’t make things harder on her.”
“I’m trying to figure out what it is you object to about her, Momma.” Travis sat back in his chair.
“I have no problem with her,” Momma assured him. “I just want what’s best for you.”
“And what if Loretta’s best for me?” he asked.
“This is what I was worried about.” Momma dropped her napkin on her plate. “You are in no place to be thinking about a relationship, Travis. And not with someone like Loretta Gram, for goodness sake. She’d bring you down, son. And when that happens, how long do you think it will be before you start drinking?” She shook her head. “Look at her life, Travis. You can’t deny there’s a pattern.”
“Is that why you went to see her?” Travis asked. He stood, headed to the drawer for the manila envelope he’d stored minutes before. “Sawyer saw you leaving.”
“Oh he did, did he?” his mother snapped. “How convenient. And where is he? I’d love to hear what he thinks he saw.”
“Sawyer’s taking some time off.” Time he’d more than earned off. But, with all that had come out, would Sawyer come back? If he didn’t, were he and Emmy Lou and Krystal supposed to pretend he didn’t exist? That was a whole other can of worms they’d deal with. Later.
“Travis?” His mother waved a hand in front of his face. “Sawyer said what, exactly?”
“He said you left and Loretta was very upset.” He placed the envelope on the table. “He also put this together for me. A copy of all the information you collected on Loretta.”
“I won’t apologize for trying to learn more about the woman you and your father have brought into our home.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m your mother. I can’t help that I worry about you.”
“Momma.” Travis shook his head, momentarily dumbfounded. “Worrying means a talk or a card or a text message. Worrying does not mean compiling a file complete with sealed childhood court records. Why do you need this information? Why would anyone need this information? Unless you’re going to work for the CIA or FBI.”
But his mother didn’t budge.
“A couple of days after your visit with Loretta, her father is in town, drunk, and causing a scene.”
His mother’s eyes narrowed.
“It didn’t take too long to see who bought Donnie Gram his airplane ticket and his hotel room. Even if I could find a way to rationalize you digging through her past, I can’t get past this. You brought her father there.” He swallowed hard. “You set this up, for what, as a warning? Some sort of power trip? Why?”
“Why?” she snapped. “I wanted her to stay away from you, Travis. Because she’s not good enough for you. Because she’s the sort of woman who preys on men like you—”
“Men like me?” Travis shook his head. “Weak? Vulnerable? About to fall off the wagon? In need of protection? Someone who needs looking after?” He shot a look at his sisters then. “I can’t tell you how much that pisses me off. I’ve busted my ass to get sober, busted my ass to stay sober. I don’t miss meetings, I check in, and I take care of myself. I do that. I’ve committed to that. I don’t need looking after and I sure as hell don’t need you to tell me what’s best for me.” He was staring at his mother. “Every week Daddy, Em, and Krystal call or go online for the family support session. You don’t even know my sponsor’s name. Part of my recovery is surrounding myself with people who believe in my success and my ability to get there.” He sighed. “You don’t fall into that category. This proves that.” He tapped the file.
She stood then, no traces of her calm facade in place. “I can’t keep being the bad guy here. Not for you or your sisters or your father. I can’t do it. I won’t do it. All I’ve ever done is love you the only way I know how. But I don’t think there’s a place for me here anymore.” She broke off, waiting—as if they’d stop her or ask her to stay.
He held his breath, half expecting Emmy Lou to do just that.
But the silence held.
“I think maybe you’re right, CiCi.” His father finally spoke up. “I think it’s time we all move on. I’ll get those divorce papers drawn up and we’ll go from there.”
Travis knew it was the right thing, but it didn’t stop it from hurting. All of them. Messed up or not, they’d been a family. Now that was ending and they’d all have to find a way to come to terms with it.
From there, it was all slow motion. Momma leaving. Daddy staring straight ahead. Emmy Lou crying. Krystal cleaning up.
It was done.
But none of them felt good about it.
At the moment, he felt like shit. “Dad?” His voice was low. “That, a divorce, is between you and Momma. I never intended this to happen. I wanted you to know what she’d done because I…I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us.”
His father looked him in the eye. “I think that’s a damn fine idea.” His voice was unsteady. “I hate to think about all the secrets that have slowly chipped away at our family.”
