Page 63 of Thick & Thin

The house was quiet when I entered. It was as if the house had died along with my dad. Everything was the same. The furniture hadn’t been moved. Even Mom’s old afghan was still draped over the back of the couch like it was the last time I had taken a nap in front of the TV.

I tossed my duffel bag to the floor and closed the heavy front door behind me.

“Mom?” I called out. “Anybody home?”

I stepped into the space, pulling in a deep breath and letting the familiar scents of my childhood home rush over my memory.

I was home.

Three years was a long time to be away from the place your heart yearned for, but it was important for my sanity to stay away. However, looking around at the familiar walls and then breathing in the nostalgic scents, I was relieved to be there. Regardless of the reason I had to run home, losing my father, I still felt a sense of right when I stood in the living room of home.

The hallway to the bedrooms was lined with pictures of our life. I looked at each one as I passed on the way to my parents’ room. When my eyes landed on the picture of my dad with an unfamiliar little boy, I stopped and took a better look at it. Maybe things hadn’t stayed the same in the Black household.

The boy’s eyes were mischievous, his tilted smile hid the trouble a toddler his size could get into. My dad’s grin spoke volumes. He was fond of the little boy. I couldn’t blame him. The boy was adorable with this shaggy baby hair and tiny frame, and as I moved down the long hallway, his face slowly began to fill the parts of the wall that had once been empty between our family pictures.

I paused at the end of the hallway just before my parents’ bedroom, and my eyes caught on Jenny’s familiar face. The boy was sitting on her lap, and both were smiling at the camera as if they were the happiest people on Earth. That was when it hit me like a ton of bricks.

The little boy was Jenny’s son.

My parents had pictures of Jenny’s son littered all over their home in places where pictures of my children would never be. There were pictures of my parents holding him and smiling. Pictures of the boy playing with my old stuffed animals. Pictures of him and Dad on a horse close to the barn. He was everywhere, taking the place of the grandchildren I could never give them.

My stomach bottomed out, and I leaned against the wall, feeling as if the floor beneath my feet was breaking away. I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to will the feelings that were exploding inside me to go away. We had just lost my father. The last thing I needed to be thinking about was the children I would never have and how I had probably let him down in so many ways.

Anger and hurt sparked at the end of the spine and rushed up my back before detonating in my brain. The desire to pull the photos from the walls and shatter them was strong, but before I could move, my mom’s voice gave me pause.

“You’re home.”

I swung around in her direction, ready to rip into her about the pictures of the little boy, but when my eyes landed on her, I slammed to a stop.

There was bruising beneath her eyes from crying so hard. She looked frail as if she had somehow lost half of herself overnight. Her clothes were wrinkled, which was one of my mom’s pet peeves. But it was the slight smile on her lips that sent me reeling. Throughout everything, her losing my dad and facing the rest of her life alone, she was happy to see me.

She opened her arms, and forgetting about the boy who took the place of my children, I went to her and pulled her into my arms. She shook against me, crying so hard my chest trembled with her pain.

“He’s gone. He’s really gone, honey.”

I squeezed my eyes tight, daring the tears to escape, but they were hardheaded little bastards like me, and when I opened my eyes, they poured down my cheeks before getting caught in my beard. I held her tight, and we cried, knowing our lives would never be the same. I could no longer run from Walterboro and Jenny. It was time I came home and took care of what was now mine.

“I’m here, Mom. I’ll never leave again.”

It was a promise I was determined to keep.

My home.

My farm.

It was time I forgot about Jenny, took care of what now belonged to me, and started my life.

Living in a such a small town, I knew I was bound to run into Jenny. After Mom and I had our heart to heart, I spent the rest of the day with her, Genie, and Ashley, who had flown in from Texas for moral support. We made final arrangements for Dad, and I spent a good bit of the time we spent in town looking around for Jenny’s familiar face. I thought I had prepared myself for the moment I saw her, but no amount of preparation helped.

After spending the day planning to put my father six feet under, I needed a beer. Once the sign for Sprints came into view, I put on my blinker and switched lanes before pulling into their white rock parking lot.

Ashley looked around, confused. “Where are we?”

“Look, I know you hate bars, but I could really use a beer right now. Take my truck back to your room; I’ll catch a ride there and pick it up later. Is that okay?”

She stared back at me. I could see the argument in her eyes, but whatever she saw in my expression snatched away her fight.

“No. I’ll come in with you.”

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