Page 11 of Memories of the Past

Thomas

I drove down the long driveway of what used to be my home. Nothing had changed, well perhaps the sign that hung over the driveway had. The worn wooden sign had begun to show its age, and it looked as if it hadn’t been painted in what looked like years. I noticed the fences that edged the driveway were also in need of some repair. As I slowed my truck, I saw a lot of broken areas. When I’d hit the top of the hill and the house came into view, everything about it looked worn.

I’d just cut the engine when the front door opened and out stepped someone I didn’t recognize. The stranger on the porch watched my every move as I climbed out of my truck and shut the door.

“Can I help you?” he yelled from the shadows of the porch.

“Thomas Jenkins. Who are you?” I called.

“Thomas? Thomas? Is it really you?” the old man questioned. “It’s Lyle.”

I took a harder look at the man who was now walking down the stairs of the front porch, cane in hand, as he made his way over to me. As he approached, I saw some familiar features in his face. Sure enough, it was Lyle—much older, but it was Lyle. He approached me, his hand out.

“Lyle, it’s good to see you,” I said, placing my hand in his, then hugging the man I used to know.

“Sorry about your father, kid.”

“Thanks. What happened?” I questioned.

“Heart attack out in the field. We did everything we could, but the doctor said he was gone before he even hit the ground.”

I swallowed hard, the thought of never seeing my father again weighing heavy on me for the first time since I’d heard the news. I looked up at the house and then out to the barn and noticed more of the fences were beginning to fall. “Place looks like it’s in bad shape.” I said, looking up at the house.

“It’s not like it used to be, that’s for sure. Most of the ranch hands are gone now. I’ve been pretty much running the place since your mom passed and your father’s health took a turn. It was almost as if once she was gone, your father lost his love for the place. We have three horses and about twenty cattle, that’s it. It’s a lot for me to look after now, but it gets done.”

“Looks like you’re in bad shape yourself, Lyle,” I said, nodding to the cane.

“Ah just my sciatica bothering me. I’ll be fine.”

I nodded, looking out over the empty fields that used to be filled. I glanced to my watch. “Listen, I need to head into town. I have to meet with the funeral director, and then I have a meeting with a lawyer.”

“Well bring your stuff inside. Your old room is available. I’ve been staying in the guest room. I hope that is okay.”

“Of course, Lyle. I’m not here to kick you out,” I said, making my way over to my truck and pulling my bag out from the back seat. “Besides, it will be nice to have some company.”

* * *

It had taken almost the remainder of the day to finish up with the funeral director and the attorney. It had been a blur of information; all I knew was that I had a lot of decisions to make in a very short time. I stepped out into the street and glanced around at the familiar town. A lot had changed in the years I’d been gone.

I looked around. Some of the businesses I still recognized, many others I didn’t. I went over to my truck and climbed in. Starting the engine, I pulled away from the curb. I drove down the road and stopped at a light, glancing to my right. I read the sign above what used to be the old laundromat and pulled over. I needed a flower shop, and Peggy’s Petals was probably the only one in town.

The chimes over the door rang out as I entered. A woman stood behind the counter working on an arrangement. “I’ll be right with you,” she sang, poking her head over the arrangement in front of her.

“Take your time, no rush,” I said, removing my hat.

I took a moment and looked around the storefront. Her arrangements were beautiful, I thought to myself, and since I needed to provide flowers to the funeral home, I figured this was the place.

“What can I do for you?” She smiled, wiping her hands on her apron and grabbing a pencil and a pad of paper.

“I need to place an order for flowers.”

“I think I can do that for you,” she said, glancing around with a smile and winking. “What’s the occasion?”

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “It’s for a funeral. My father’s funeral,” I murmured, swallowing hard. No matter how many times I’d heard it or said it, it still didn’t seem real, but the regret I felt for not speaking to him all these years was very real, and it was beginning to eat at me.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry for your loss.” She reached under the counter and placed a book down in front of me on the counter. “Here are some samples of the arrangements I’ve done in the past. I have most of the flowers in stock. Depending on when the arrangements are needed for, I can order different things in as well.”

“I don’t know much about flowers,” I muttered as I flipped open the book and flipped a couple of pages. “I think I’ll go with this one, and two of these,” I said, pointing to the images on the page.

---