Bring on the Rain (42 page)

When Coy came back the party cranked
up, and his gifts were given, and practical jokes played-without
anyone being seriously hurt-because, in his family, they were
pretty inventive. Mitch told everyone Max might never come there.
He might never be a part of the family willingly.

Coy’d been the only one who said it was
fine with him. The rest had blown up in a big fit, about how he
couldn’t let that happen, and how he was blood, and no matter how
highbrow he was educated, how well he dressed or what car he drove,
you never had enough cornbread brothers to watch your
back.

Mitch felt good about their support. He
felt bad though about the reality. Because he saw more than they
did in the young man. He saw Madeline's pride, her strength and
her, to-hell-with-you look, when she was angry. Oh, he was glad of
it. He wished he hadn’t lost it when she told him, because he
hadn’t said what he’d meant or felt. He was a nervous wreck inside,
thinking about never seeing Max, worrying he’d hurt
Madeline.

So, when Mitch awoke this morning,
smelling breakfast, he remembered everyone he had brought home.
When he showered and dressed in Levi’s, boots and a thin summer
shirt, he walked in the kitchen and realized the whole damn bunch
was there. All the men anyway, cooking up a storm in his
kitchen.

“
Where’s Renée?” he asked
Jason.

“
Cleaning my house,” Jude
answered. “I’m paying her. It’s worth it. These ass-holes put
shaving cream and God knows what else on Coy, when he fell asleep.
The bed looks like someone greased a pig on it.”

The men laughed, waving Mitch down as
they passed heaping plates of food.

“
Where is Coy?”

“
He’s getting dressed. He’ll
be up here soon.”

Mitch filled his plate and got coffee.
“Why is everybody here anyway?”

“
Because.” Jason snorted,
“It’s Saturday. We figured we would play music, maybe ride four
wheelers or the horses. Might as well have a good time, with so
many of us together.”

Mitch agreed. “Yeah,” He smirked and
looked over the group. ”Y’all were good about getting dolled up for
Coy’s Graduation.”

“
Hell,” one of the younger
men snorted. “We only did it because we were riding to Diamond
Back. We all know what they call us down there. Say, we ought to
build our own high school.”

“
No way,” another joked.
“Wouldn’t want them Diamond Back girls to think we were going
civilized.”

There was more jokes about the Diamond
Back girls, mothers, all the history and of how old man Coburn had
set the course for the future by refusing to let go of old
traditions and old ways. He was a man with a second grade
education, who died wealthy, and had more common sense and skill
than the whole town of Diamond Back.

It galled people. That the old man was
neither political nor a social climber, that he didn’t spread his
money their way but bought his own land, built his own businesses
and lived the way he wanted to. He was a law unto himself, minded
his own business, and wasn’t impressed with anyone.

After breakfast, dishes, and enough
showers to drain both his hot water tanks, Mitch led the way to the
big porch. Men sat, in rocker chairs, on banisters, the edge of the
porch floor. Laughter, echoing down the hollow, good-natured
arguments flowing amid the talk of sports, teasing.

Coy made an appearance and took a lot
of ribbing. After two plates of food, and coffee, he was looking
human again. Mitch knew how he was taking the fact Brook was gone
for good. He had to accept it, but Mitch was aware that Coy was
aching inside.

As for Karla, the whole family
discussed it at length. They were going to give it time, to see if
what she said was true. Coy said he’d do right by the child, but he
had no intention of being manipulated by her. He realized what he
had done, accepted his part in it, but he didn’t love her. He was
not going to marry her. Those Coburn's who’d divorced, agreed. A
loveless marriage was not good for any kid.

Mitch was seated on the porch edge,
looking down the road and listening to all the talk and jokes
behind him. It was a nice day, in the mid-eighties. A breeze on the
hill brought the smell of growing vegetables, fruit, and hay down
with it.

When the jeep came into sight, Mitch
felt his heart slam against his ribs hard. He sucked in his breath.
He could see the driver, see coal black hair, because the top was
off. He said loudly to everyone, “He’s come y’all…Max is
here.”

Everyone stopped talking, places
shifted, until the long banister had men standing at it.

Jason came to sit beside him. “If he
pulls in, are we walking down or waiting?”

Mitch confessed, “I don't know. Maybe
this should take place between me and him first, this bunch is kind
of overwhelming.”

Jason grunted. “If you think they’re
going anywhere now, you’re sadly mistaken. No way are they going to
miss the chance to meet him.”

Mitch knew it was true. He was holding
his breath, wondering if Max would keep on going. He slowed, and
pulled in amid all the vehicles parked every which way in the drive
and half in the yard.

Mitch stood and felt Jason’s hand on
his shoulder, as Jason stood too.

“
Breathe, Dad.”

Mitch let out the air, drew it in
calmer. His eyes glued to the tall man walking now up the steps. He
murmured, “If he hits me, don't do anything, all right.”

Jason grunted.

“
I mean it.”

Jason didn’t answer.

Max reached the top step, two-foot from
them. He drew off his sunglasses. His violet eyes were calm as he
looked between them. He glanced up, at the men lining the banister.
He nodded politely. “Good morning.”

They greeted back in various
fashions.

He gazed at Jason, a long time Mitch
thought.

The time he took gave Mitch a chance to
see him up close, better than the other day.

He saw winged black brows, dark violet
eyes, and thick lashes. A good strong nose and square jaw that was
lean. Max had his lips, his hair color, and his lashes. He was
built broad of shoulder, hard roped muscle and though Jason had a
chin dimple, they too looked alike. Max’s hair was straighter, his
eyes shaped like Madeline's.

“
Jason?”

“
Max.”

They shook hands. Mitch noted their
hands were similar and like his own.

When Max finally looked at him, Mitch
could feel everyone holding their breath. He was braced, ready for
a mean right hook.

~*~

Max got his look at Mitch too. Light
blue eyes, silver hair, the rugged face, hard body, broad
shoulders, and dark skin. He saw many of his own features, as he
had with Jason. Only, he saw Mitch’s eyes more than the color. He
saw the forty-year-old man. He thought of Madeline, thought of her
words. He remembered everything she had told him about the
seventeen-year-old girl and the consuming love they had shared.
Nevertheless, Max let nothing show on his face, because he
understood taking someone’s measure.

He was not through. Hell no, he hadn’t
even got started.

His tone was calm, unemotional as he
said, “Mitch, I want you to know something right off. I did not
come here to find a daddy. Good people brought me up. I have the
best of everything. I came to Tennessee to see Madeline. To talk to
her. I’m here because I think it’s important to her that everything
is in the open. She doesn’t owe an explanation to anyone but
me.

You were a man. You made as many
mistakes as she did. I am here, because she knows I’m grown and
have accepted the choices she made. I’ve known her and Brook all of
my life. It was a positive step for us both. I’ve made her
understand she can’t keep paying for the choices she made. She has
made me understand why she made them.

Our future relationship is based on
acknowledging who we are to each other, the fact that love is
something that was already there. I know a lot about her, she knows
about me. We don't have any problem with each other living our
lives, respecting the fact that I’m a man that has a life somewhere
else, and Madeline’s a grown woman, who’s got hers.”

He paused a heartbeat. “I’m here to
tell you, I know the story. She told me, you and she discussed the
choices you made because of your family. I’ll let you have your
say—if you’ve got anything to add. But I don't want to hear
anything that smacks of blaming Madeline for the fact that you
didn’t know I existed. We both know why she did it. But your
grandmother is wholly responsible, as far as I’m concerned. She was
the one holding all the power, and the secrets.”

Mitch said back to him, “I agree with
you.” Then waited to see if Max had more to say. When he didn’t,
Mitch expressed, “I’d like to tell you my part, in my own words. I
never was much for talking. But I’ve realized staying silent, or
assuming things, can cost us the difference between understanding a
person’s intentions, and their actions.”

Max nodded.

Mitch looked at Jason.

Jason turned and stepped up on the
porch. “Let’s step inside awhile.”

Everyone filed in the house except
Jude. Jude went to the edge of the porch. “I’m Jude. I am one of
those who lied to Madeline. I’m also Coy's father.”

Max eyed him, seeing the different
coloring but many similar features to Mitch and Jason. “Madeline
says you came and talked to her. That’s her business. You and I
have no beef, unless, you want to discuss my punching
Coy.”

“
No. Brook is your sister. I
understand how you feel. Coy has his side of things, but he screwed
up, he knows it. And, he also knows why you punched
him.”

Max nodded. “I’m not here to beat the
shit out of everyone who lied to Madeline.”

Jude smiled. “That’s a relief, because
we’ve got a bet you’re left handed. “ His eyes narrowed and he
grinned. “I think you were gentle on Coy, when you could have hurt
him.”

Max smiled, revealing the dimples in
his cheeks, like their grandfather’s. “I
am—left-handed.”

Jude crowed with laughter and rubbed
his hands together. “Thanks, you won me fifty bucks.” He turned and
went in the house, telling everyone to pay up.

Mitch said, “You want to go up and sit
down? Have some coffee?”

“
I could stand a cup.
Black.”

Mitch nodded. On the porch, he yelled
for a couple of coffees, one black, one with cream.

G.W. brought them. He handed Max his,
where he sat in the wide porch swing, his foot resting on an old
ammo box.

“
I’m G.W. A cousin. Nice to
meet you, Max.”

Max shook the hard big hand. He eyed
G.W. when he sat back. “I’ll bet you’re a mean
sonofabitch.”

G.W. grinned. “I try hard.” He nodded
and went inside.

Mitch offered dryly, “Don't be
surprised if they keep popping out here. They are a crazy bunch,
but they think blood is blood, and they never think there’s enough
of us. They were hoping you’d come by.”

Max nodded, took a drink of coffee, and
rested the mug on his thigh.

Mitch was sitting in a chair facing
him. His eyes on Max’s face.

Like Madeline, he began at the
beginning, telling things from his side. Expressing better now and
admitting he had never spoken the words to Madeline, he’d only felt
them. Immature maybe, and unable to put into words what loving her
did to him.

Mitch talked more openly about the
sexual side of things than Madeline, not in a crude way, merely
explaining, man-to-man, how he expressed his love for her, his
hunger and need, in the physical.

He talked about Dovie at length, about
their upbringing, her way of getting what she wanted. He gave a
good account of her faults, her strong, hard, character. Not
excusing but describing Dovie’s iron will, a woman who could be
blind outside her own opinions.

Mitch clarified the dynamics of his
siblings, how growing up he’d more or less been the boss of them,
the biggest male influence. His consuming love for Madeline must
have been the first time anything completely sealed him off from
them. The first secrets, the first stranger to come in and take him
away from them. Because Madeline had been his life, he hadn’t
needed anything or anyone else. He also told Max, Jude told him
that his young feelings for her had become confused with his
jealousy, his anger at her, over taking up Mitch’s time.

Competitiveness was born in them, most
of the time it was good, constructive, made them challenge
themselves. At that age, it had not played out like that, and Jude
had lied to Madeline. Later, he never knew how to undo it, or to
make it right. He realized his terrible mistake, but realized too
that nothing he said or did could change the choices Madeline and
Mitch made from it. It extracted its own price from him, made a
mess of his relationships. Forgetting seemed impossible, even
straining Jude’s role as father to Coy.