Page 223 of Severed Heart
He turns back to me, a laugh on his lips. “She does, doesn’t she?” He chuckles. “I said ‘mater sandwiches’ the other day, and I think she peed her pants laughing. She ran out of the room.”
I wince as urinary incontinence is a sign that her body is starting to fail her, but if she had to have that embarrassing moment, I’m glad it was laughter that caused it. This I keep to myself. “It’s getting pretty cold out here, buddy. Do you want to go inside and talk for a little while?”
“I don’t want her to know I’m upset,” he sniffs. “She worked so hard to make this Christmas perfect for us. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“It is perfect. You’re not ruining anything. Nothing will or could ruin it, mark my words.” The instant I release that declaration, a French shrill sounds from the house and fills the yard.
“MERDE! PUTAIN! MY FUCKING YAMS ARE BURNT! DAMN IT, TYLER! I TOLD YOU TO TELL ME WHEN IT WAS FORTY-FIVE MINUTES!”
Zach and I hit the ground, laughter erupting from both of us as more shrieks ring out.
“ALL FUCKING DAY I WAIT TO COOK THESE LAST SO NOTHING GETS BURNED... THEY ARE POTATOES... HOW DO THEY BURN?... I HEAR YOU LAUGHING AT ME, ASSHOLES!”
Chapter Sixty
TYLER
SPRING 2016
BLINK.
Zach tightens the bolt as I watch on, pride filling me for his progress, even as the gnaw that’s been tugging at me since we left for King’s this morning threatens to again set in. The two of us ordered to march by our general, thrust away from her bedside after pancakes, and her insistence we get ‘sun on our faces.’ A sun which remains concealed under the blanket of clouds hovering over the garage outside of the bay.
Batting down the unease that’s been threatening since we left her, my solace is found in Zach’s answering grin when I commend him, knowing he finds the same satisfaction in fixing things the way I do. Another commonality we’ve been bonding over recently while doing maintenance on the equipment at the farm. This spring fighting for every bloom as winter temperatures continue to linger. Over the long, cold season, and as Delphine started to take more frequent, lengthy naps, I taught him the ins and outs of hunting, which also had us gravitating more toward each other.
Though his grins have become scarcer in recent months. Fewer and far between, as have minebecause ofsaid nap frequency while Delphine began to dissolve before our collective eyes. Every smile between us now hard-won while rewarding in its own right. The kid I collided with months ago in this garage vastly different now in demeanor and appearance than the one I’m stealing glances of this morning. A kid who speaks so little, yet knows so much, as I marvel at the changes in him, and the knowledge Delphine was right.
Zach is a genius.
According to his first staggering aptitude test results, as well as his fifth—which annoyed him—he’s got the potential of becoming a Rhodes Scholar and beyond. Not that we ever doubted his intelligence, it was just the opposite, and it’s now confirmed.
Delphine had known he was special, that he had potential we probably hadn’t realized, but he’d tested off the charts. For weeks now, I’ve been pondering big decisions when it comes to him. Along with having lengthy conversations with Delphine about how to move forward in raising him. Daily, I’m becoming more impatient to start the conversation I’ve been mulling over, while growing more eager to pose the question.
“Are you happy living at the orchard, Zach?” I blurt outright, while marveling over the truth that some things work out for the better—no matter where they stemmed from. Or how theymightwork out if Zach agrees to claim the place Delphine and I have made in our home and our hearts. Now unable to imagine what these past months would have been like without him. The idea of finally havingthetalk staving off the gnaw that’s trying to sneak its way back in.
Pausing the tool, he looks over to me for motive to see my inquiry is genuine before releasing an easy reply. “Yeah, I am. Your family is awesome. I love Barrett and Charlie, but Jasper and Jessie are a trip,” he laughs.
It’s your family too, if you’ll have us.
But instead of voicing my thought, I keep it light. “I’m ashamed to admit I don’t know my younger cousins very well,” I tell him honestly.
“Because you never come to the Sunday baseball games,” he reminds me.
I nod. “I’ll make it a point to come to the next one.”
“They would love it. They ask about you all the time.”
“It’s crazy that you know my family better than I do.” I grin. “But I’m glad you know that—” The premonition takes over mid-sentence, the gnawing crashing over me in a tidal wave a nanosecond before my cell phone buzzes in my pocket. Or maybe it’s simultaneous. Either way and without looking to see who’s calling, I identify the gnawing. Knowing it to be a certainty because I feel it in every fiber of my being now—she’s leaving me.
She’s leaving me.
“Tyler, what’s up man? Tyler,” Russell sounds, jarring me from the darkness shrouding my vision as Zach’s eyes dart to mine.
“Fuck.” I lower my eyes to my watch to buy time, summoning the expertise of the liar within for my biggest trial yet. “I just forgot I had to pick up that part from Spellman’s by ten this morning. Shit. Russell, can you take me? I’m going to let Zach stay back and work on my truck.”
Reading into my lie instantly, Russell pulls out his keys, an easy “sure” leaving him as Jeremy, standing a bay over, speaks up, following as well. “I’ve got him, bro,” he assures, giving nothing away as I glance back at Zach.
“You good for twenty?”
