Heart of the Country (7 page)

13

M
Y BACK ACHED
for some of that ointment that turns hot after it touches your skin. Sometimes I just want to rub that all over my body. But I guess that’s what old people do. Sometimes I had to remind myself I was thirty, not eighty. I stood in line at the grocery with just a few items, but behind the one woman in town who liked to buy three weeks’ worth at a time.

“Sorry about that, Olivia,” Teresa said, hoisting a two-pound bag of okra onto the conveyer. “I’ll be done here in a sec.”

“Mommy, can I have a
 
—”

“No, you cannot, and if you’d like to know, the man
who invented the candy display at the checkout aisle died of candy poisoning.”

Victoria’s eyes widened. “He did?”

Nell snorted. “Of course he didn’t. She just says that because I guess it’s easier than saying a plain no.” She glanced at me with those wise eyes she got from her grandfather.

Finally Teresa and her three carts of groceries were done. Angie sensed my agitation and checked me out quickly.

“Ah. Your dad’s favorite,” she said as she slid the pumpkin over the scanner.

“Oh yes. I probably toast six or seven pans of pumpkin seeds this time of year.”

“Oooo, I love ’em too. With salt and a little olive oil.”

I thanked Angie and hurried the kids to the car. We still had the afternoon science lessons for Nell, plus multiplication, and I figured Dad was going to want to chat a little like always.

I was driving too fast, hoping a rock wouldn’t pop up on the windshield and crack it. It had happened seven times and Hardy was getting tired of replacing the windshield.

I saw it as I came over the hill . . . that black, shiny city car I’d seen from the corner store. It was parked on the side of the road, near the mailbox. It made me feel funny inside. Why hadn’t they pulled into the drive?

I pulled around it, eyeing it carefully. As best I could tell, nobody was in it. I turned onto the dirt drive, creeping along, watchful for anything suspicious.

Everything looked in order. I could see Silver near the fence, his tail twitching, his eyes calm.

I parked and waited for a moment.

“Mom, what are you doing?” Nell asked.

“Stay here,” I instructed and got out of the truck.

“But the sack
 
—”

“Just stay here.”

The front door was open and the screen was shut. I climbed the steps to the porch and tried to see into the house. I never knocked at Daddy’s, but then again, there weren’t ever any cars out front that I didn’t recognize.

I opened the screen door. It let out its typical screech.

“Daddy?”

The front room was empty and the house was particularly quiet as I stepped in. Usually at least the television was on. “Dad?”

Nothing.

I hurried to his bedroom. But it was empty. His bed made. Everything tidy.

“Dad?”

I went to the kitchen and then saw out the back door. There he was. With a woman. They were looking out at the pasture and didn’t see me.

I dusted my hands and smoothed my jeans, tugging at the flannel shirt that seemed to have shrunk over the past few years. I wondered about getting the kids, then decided I’d do that in a minute.

I opened the screen door and smiled pleasantly. “Hello?”

Dad turned around first and I gave a short wave, then looked at the woman. The pleasant smile dropped straight off my face. “Faith?”

“Hi, Olivia.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets. Looked apprehensive. And not like herself at all. Fancy hair. Fancy clothes. Apparently fancy car.

I glanced at Dad, who gave me a look that said I should pick my smile up off the porch and put it right back on.

I walked down the steps, stretching that smile hard across my face. “Faith. My goodness. How unexpected.”

Dad looked like he was about to burst with excitement and tears all at once. He walked with her as we met halfway. He had a hand on her back. A grin on his face. A spring to his step.

We hugged, but I let go of her because frankly I’m not much of a hugger. Never have been. At least since I was a kid. I tried not to stare at her, but it was hard. I mean, she looked like she’d run into a paint truck with that lipstick and eye shadow. And if her orange shirt got any louder and crisper, it might be a Cheeto.

Suddenly the door flung open and Nell and Vic were bounding toward us.

“I told you guys to stay in the truck.”

“Who’s that?” Nell said, pointing to Faith. “Here’s your medicine, Grandpa.”

“Girls,” Dad said, “this is your aunt. Faith. This is Nell and Victoria.”

Good grief, could this get any more awkward?

“Well, listen,” I said, huddling the girls and pushing them toward the house, “I know you two have a lot of catching up to do. Years’ worth, really. I’ve got to get home and get the schoolwork done. Faith, you just stopping by or are you here for a while?”

“Not sure yet.”

Of course you’re not
. “Okay. Boy, wish I could be as whimsical as that. ’Course that’d throw Hardy for a loop, you know, me just up and leaving. Dad too, for that matter.” I let out an unfortunately timed laugh, which sent awkward ripples through the breeze.

“Daddy, pharmacist says that’s the same medication, it just looks different. New manufacturer or some such. Faith, I’m sure we’ll catch up soon. You might want to move that fancy car of yours. That gravel can put some real dings in even the nicest of paint.”

I heard Dad say something, but I pretended not to hear it. I let the back screen slam and continued to whisk the girls out front and toward the truck.

“I thought you said we’d stay for a little bit,” Nell whined.

“Not today. Busy, busy.” I hoisted Victoria into the truck and shut the door, then went around the back to try to catch my breath. My hands were shaking. It was like I’d seen a ghost or something.

I climbed into the truck and started it up.

“I didn’t know we had an aunt,” Nell said.

“’Course you did. I told you.”

“We never seen her,” Victoria said.

“Yes, well, she’s very busy with her life in New York.” So busy that she couldn’t pick up the phone. Told us she was married after the fact, on a postcard from someplace I’d never heard of. Eloped. I think I still had her present in a closet somewhere.

We drove up the dirt road. I cranked the air just to keep the kids from jabbering. The pumpkin sat there on the seat next to me.

After a while, Nell leaned forward from the backseat. “She looks like your mommy.”

I might’ve seen a ghost after all.

14

“D
ON’T WORRY ABOUT
L
IV.
She’ll come around. Just shock, that’s all. I was getting ready to ask you if you’d called her to let her know you were coming.”

I looked at my feet. Pedicured toes peeking out of designer stilettos. Just didn’t fit the scene here. “No. I, uh . . . I wasn’t ready for that.” I lifted my head as a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. “Can we walk to the barn?”

Dad shrugged. “Sure.”

We walked in silence for a while. There was too much to say, and that was the problem with coming home. At least like this. But the simple walk to the barn brought me a comfort I couldn’t explain. Took me back to my roots, I guess.
It’s easy to underestimate your roots until they’re all you’ve got left.

Beside me, Dad limped a little, like he had a bad knee. I’d have to ask him about that later. Every time I looked at him, he’d smile. Part of me wanted to just observe him without his knowing. His temples were gray. The skin over his eyelids sagging just a bit.

I had hoped the sadness would be gone from his eyes. But it was still there.

Dad unlocked the large door. I pulled one side; he pulled the other.

At the barn’s smell, I was instantly taken back to my childhood, memories bulleting through my mind so fast they were almost blurry. My mind wasn’t the one really seeing them, though. It was my heart.

I could see her atop Lady, blazing through the fields, racing Daddy. She was looking back at him, laughing, racing Lady harder.

Olivia and I would cheer, one of us for Momma and one of us for Dad.

I followed him through the empty barn out into the pasture, where the horses must’ve been. “Silver,” I said, smiling as we approached him. He was standing in some mud, twitching his tail. He used to be a beautiful white, with a hint of gray undertone that caused him to shimmer. He was dirty white now. I couldn’t go all the way to meet him because of the mud. Didn’t stop Dad, though, and he looked behind me like he expected me to be there, then noticed my shoes.

“Where’s Lady?” I asked, glancing down the fence line.

“Lady died. Couple of winters ago.”

A hard knot formed in my throat. Dad didn’t look at me but instead seemed interested in the graying sky. He then gave Silver a hearty pat-down. “Silver over here’s been hanging tough, though.”

“Liv and I always said he was the son you never had.” I smiled and looked at the horse. He looked so old, so worn out. Lonely. He blinked at me and I wondered if he remembered me. My smell. My voice.

“Has anyone taken him for a ride recently?”

Daddy didn’t answer, but he looked at Silver and the answer was obvious. “He’s still got it in him.”

“Let’s saddle him up, then.”

We started toward the barn. I noticed just then how the paint was peeling and how the equipment wasn’t tidy like he’d kept it before. It was sort of a picture of my dad’s life. Maybe mine too.

“You’re not going to ask me why I’m back?”

“We don’t have to talk about anything. Ever. If you don’t want to.”

I nodded, helped him with the saddle, and appreciated more than ever this simple man. It was perhaps his simplicity that drove me away, at least in part. He didn’t grieve like me, and I couldn’t ever get him back where I wanted him. But now I appreciated it because I understood the complications of life more than ever. I’d learned more of its complexities and its deep disappointments. I had a better grasp on heartbreak.

Silver without Lady was like Daddy without Momma. Watching that lonely old horse being saddled up for the first time in who knew when caused the threat of tears. Daddy buckled and strapped, seemingly not having missed a day of it.

“He’s all yours.” He pointed to my feet. “Except you’re not gonna go far in those. Heck, you might just impale his sides if you’re not careful.”

“My riding boots still in there?”

“’Course.”

I hurried to the barn, slung off my shoes and found the boots in one of the storage closets. They still fit perfectly. I marched toward the horse, my boots plodding through the mud.

I stroked him on his jaw, where he liked it the most, and patted him hard against his still-muscular frame.

“Don’t worry. He remembers you.” Dad helped hoist me on. And it was like riding a bike. “I guess you’ll be staying for dinner?”

I nodded.

“I just have some TV dinners around. Maybe we’ll go get some fried chicken, okay?”

“Sure.” I winked at him. “I promise. I’ll be home in time for dinner.”

He snorted. “Yeah, where have I heard that before?” He slapped Silver on his hindquarters and the horse leaped forward. We were off to the fields.

I sank low, let my hair come undone, let the wind snap at my face.

“Whoa, buddy,” I finally said to Silver, pulling up on his reins. We were walking along a line of trees. The sun was setting and I loved how the light filtered through the trees, streaming through the gaps and illuminating patches of dying grass. Fingers of heaven.

The warmth of the sun saturated my skin, and I turned toward it, closing my eyes. I missed him. I missed his touch already. His lively eyes and killer grin.

“. . . it works great until the music stops.”

Out in this part of the country, people lived by faith alone. They had to. The soil of the earth and the clouds of the heavens collided in prayer. And I felt it too. It was peaceful and void of the frantic noise that washed away any hope of quiet solitude in my life.

Except I couldn’t pray. Shame washed over me. My momma had taught me many simple prayers, but for the life of me I couldn’t utter one.

I stroked Silver’s mane. “Come on, buddy. It’s time to go back . . .” I wanted to say
home
, but the fact was I didn’t know where that was anymore.

15

I
PRESSED THE PHONE
to my ear so hard that I felt the cartilage crunch against it. “Pick up . . . come on . . .” I waited impatiently. Filling in the infinitesimal seconds of silence were haunting voices. Jake’s, Faith’s, my father’s.

“Hello?”

I gasped at the sound of his voice.

“Jason, hey . . . hey, it’s Luke.”

“Yeah, I could see that on my caller ID.”

“Listen, I’ve left you a few voice mails, just wanted to see if we could get together and maybe
 
—”

“I can’t be seen with you, Luke. Okay? You get that, right? I mean, that’d be instant career death.”

“Oh, come on, Jason. Don’t you think you’re overreact
 
—”

“No, I don’t. I saw it that day.”

“Saw what?”

“I was getting a hot dog, saw you standing on the street corner, looking around like something was really wrong. I was just about to go ask you if you needed help when . . .” He cleared his throat. “When they came and took you away in handcuffs.”

“So guilty until proven innocent, eh?”

“You know what kind of world we live in, Luke. This is nothing new to you. We eat our young and everybody knows it, and so do you. And if the tables were turned, you wouldn’t even take my call.”

Click
. I held the phone there for a moment, hoping it was just a glitch and that he was still there.

I took in a deep breath. And another. I dialed Steve. Voice mail. Then Kelly. Voice mail. Then Richard. Voice mail. I wasn’t even sure why I was calling people, but it seemed a good idea to maintain some contacts . . . some normalcy.

I leaned against the counter, listening to the hyper flow of air in and out of my nostrils.

It was the village, and I had leprosy.

I set the phone down and my mind drifted away again. Where had Faith gone? She wouldn’t answer my calls, which I expected, at least temporarily. But it was a strange feeling not knowing where my wife was.

My doorbell rang, sucking me back into my present circumstances. I’d been expecting Darmon but hadn’t realized
what time it was. I quickly opened the door and greeted him with a hug and a few slaps on the back.

“Come on in,” I said, ushering him in and closing the door. “No trouble getting up here?”

“Not like last time, that’s for sure. I swear your doorman really works for the Secret Service.”

“He takes his job very seriously.” I smiled. “Come, sit down. You want a drink?”

“No, I’m good.” And he didn’t sit. “Listen, we need to talk.”

I glanced at him from the kitchen, where I was opening some seltzer water. “I know. I’ve got to catch you up on a lot of things. I know you’ve heard some stuff.”

“Luke, I can’t stay.”

“What are you talking about? You just got here.”

“Yeah. I know.” Darmon looked like he was being crushed by every second that went by. “I wanted to talk to you in person. You deserve that.”

I set the water down. Put my hands on the counter. “Sounding kind of ominous, Darmon.”

“You’re in a big mess. A world of trouble, Luke. You know that. I don’t have to tell you.”

“What’s your point, Darmon, because I called you over here for that very reason. I am in a world of trouble. That’s when you call your friends. Your best friend.”

“I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you on the news.” He shook his head and fingered his watch. “I can’t help you out. There’s nothing
I can do. And standing around defending you is only going to make me look like I know something or at the very least vitiate my reputation.”

“Just get out!” I shouted at him. The suddenness startled us both.

“Luke, look
 
—”

“Get out!” My voice turned sarcastic. “Why should I expect any more from you than this? We’ve only known each other since we were thirteen.”

“I never understood it.”

“What?”

“Why you left your dad’s business. I had to work for everything I ever achieved, but it was handed to you on a silver platter. Yet you wouldn’t take it.”

“Let yourself out, you self-righteous . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence, even though a hundred crude words sat on the tip of my tongue, ready to be spewed. I couldn’t disrespect him, even though he’d abandoned me at my darkest hour.

I heard his steps and the door shut quietly. I wanted to sob into my hands and scream and throw something, but I suddenly went completely numb and couldn’t even feel the pain of my own predicament. Only one thought wandered through my mind:
How can I stay this way?