Two weeks before the wedding, Chelsea was recovered from a bad cycle. In May, the first Andy had witnessed, she had bled for eight long days. Four months later it was the same, her doctor in Arkendale seeing no differences. Chelsea had tracked her periods since she quit taking the pill after graduating from college; now she bled for longer, the months between stretching from three to four, sometimes five. No longer could she expect when she might start her period, but now that she lived ten minutes from home and was getting married, maybe it didn’t matter.
Two weeks before she wed Andy Schumacher, Chelsea only considered minor details; did she have enough pairs of pantyhose? Would the cake be right, two layers of white topped with one chocolate? Did she need to remind her cousins to print out boarding passes, which actually meant the guys; Travis, Daniel, Brian, and Dustin. Then she considered Eric. He was flying too.
Traveling alone, he had said the last time she asked, his girlfriend Dana not accompanying him. Chelsea had wanted to include her, not that any of them had met her yet, not even Travis. But Eric said she wasn’t ready for that.
Chelsea wouldn’t pester the female cousins, all of them close enough to drive, even Emily in Washington. She was heading to Kelso, then traveling south with David, collecting Courtney in Portland. With barely a spare moment to kiss all those relatives, maybe Chelsea wouldn’t miss the two not in attendance.
She would give more than a minute to Janessa, one of her flower girls, along with Susannah. But Chelsea wanted to share that day mostly with her immediate family. She wanted everyone there of course, but with time squeezed, there would be more conversation at Thanksgiving and Christmas. And maybe by then, Tanner might be home.
That was on everyone’s mind two weeks before the wedding, from Travis in Los Angeles to Mitch in Iraq; all anyone wanted was for Tanner to return.
To everyone’s tremendous shock, Tanner arrived at his parents’ house, but not in the clutches of Jackson Hooper. More like his Aunt Jenny had made her way to Arkendale on the arm of a stranger, really that of an angel; what Tanner said, what only Alana, Scott, and their children witnessed. A woman looking like a young Sylvia Baxter escorted Tanner to his parents’ residence on Sunday, the eighth of October. Less than two weeks before Chelsea’s wedding, Tanner Cassel came home.
The knock was heard by Janessa, watching TV that Sunday morning, the rest of her family asleep. When they considered it later, it was appropriate she was the first to greet her brother. Janessa was the only one to get a close-up view of the woman, which also bore hallmarks of a message. None of the Smiths, Cassels, or Sheltons, not even Catholic Andy Schumacher, was particularly religious. When Tanner returned from what all had considered the grip of death, several members of that extended family had to rethink previously held notions. Only by God’s grace, Tommie claimed, had Tanner returned.
Janessa opened the door, not assuming anyone but family would knock so early; maybe Grandma Rae, Grandma Debbie, Aunt Jenny, or even Grandpa Tommie. Grandpa Jacob would still be sleeping, Janessa knew.
When she saw her brother, Janessa noted his green eyes, but not his ashen coloring. She didn’t see sunken cheekbones or fingers like sticks, didn’t notice legs trembling or arms akimbo. Tanner wasn’t high, but scared stiff, clutching the woman’s arm.
“Tanner?” Janessa’s voice was small, then she enveloped that sibling as he nodded. “Oh Tanner, you came home!”
Janessa missed the brief conversation between her brother and the woman who helped him through the door with some difficulty, as Janessa wouldn’t let him go. The woman asked if she needed to stay. Tanner told her for another minute.
“They’ll be glad to see you,” she said, attempting to untangle herself from two grasping siblings, Janessa’s arms tight around her oldest sibling.
“God, I don’t know,” he mumbled, his face buried against his little sister’s shoulder.
“She is. They will be too.”
Then Janessa looked up. “Who are you?”
The woman smiled, stroking the child’s head. “A friend of your brother’s.”
“Oh thank you, thank you!” Janessa shouted, her voice finally reaching all but Courtney, asleep in her Portland apartment, but not for much longer.
The woman was stepping from the house when Scott and Alana, followed by Melissa, Nanny, Susannah, and Mike, raced down the stairs. Only the parents caught a glimpse of her face, just enough to tell the family she looked like Sylvia Baxter. They didn’t even get a chance to catch her name or say a few words, merely a brief peek of a woman Janessa deemed an angel. An angel brought her brother home alive.
By noon everyone knew Tanner had returned as a shadow of himself, but not strung out. He needed a shower due to the long drive from San Diego, and new clothes wouldn’t hurt. That he was repentant was another noted feature. Scott had been right in telling Janessa that Tanner had to apologize if he wanted to return. Without even being asked, it was the first thing Tanner did.
In front of all his siblings, Tanner rested in his mother’s arms, begging her forgiveness. While Scott called his parents, then Alana’s, Tanner bawled and trembled. His sisters surrounded him, Mike kneeling on the floor. Once Scott said goodbye to Tommie, he completed the group, only Courtney missing. After Tanner’s tears subsided, Melissa rang her sister, then all were together, hearing Tanner’s pleas for mercy.
By lunchtime, he had spilled his story, taken a shower, eaten some toast, which was all he wanted for the moment, mixed with elation, curiosity, and prayers. Once her son had sought absolution, then finally removed himself for that necessary shower, Alana had walked upstairs, closing her bedroom door. She fell to her knees, weeping softly, thankful for this new beginning. Tanner said that was all he wanted, all he hoped they might extend. Alana wished for it too.
During the day texts and calls flew between the cousins. Eric spoke to Tanner briefly, then Travis rang. They didn’t wish to overwhelm or frighten, only telling Tanner they loved him, would see him in less than two weeks. Tanner had made it home for Chelsea’s wedding, both Eric and Travis noted. The Triplets would be complete.
Within Tanner’s house, no one mentioned it, for they saw him on that first day. Having knocked this child to the muddy ground, Scott had the hardest time setting aside the past. Alana forgave easily, but a father’s heart was harder.
But not a rock; Scott gripped his son’s bony hands, leading to slender, marked forearms. Tanner wore a long-sleeved shirt, but showed his dad the tracks, somewhat healed. He hadn’t had a hit in four weeks, how long he had stayed with Gloria in San Diego. She was an angel, he agreed with Janessa, some miracle worker plucking him from hell.
If Jackson ever set foot in Arkendale again, Tanner would have him arrested for kidnapping. He had been drugged, then taken to Los Angeles, held hostage in a city Tanner saw very little of while conscious. Jackson had kept Tanner so strung out, he remembered almost nothing of those six weeks, except for the last ten or twelve days. That was when he had started to come out of it, Gloria weaning him from heroin a little at a time.
The details were harrowing and Scott took them as he embraced his son, warily but with arms open. He could do nothing less, for Tanner seemed contrite and ashamed. Seemed or maybe he was, Scott wasn’t sure. Time would tell if he was again bullshitting them, what Scott told his wife. He said that to Lana, his dad, and to Sam; maybe this was just another round of lies.
If they had been able to talk to the woman, perhaps Scott might be more obliging. As it was, Tanner was alive, thin, sober, and sorry. He only wanted to live at home, regain his strength, go back to work, if his dad would have him.
Blue and green eyes gazed at Scott. Alana’s were the only gray, but hers spoke for all. Tanner’s eyes possessed deep agony for what he had caused and what he carried, but the rest of his family had suffered too, so many more of them, only one of Tanner. It wasn’t for that one Scott allowed a black sheep back into the fold. It was for the rest, especially his wife. For Alana, Scott would
do anything.
In bed that night, he held her as she heaved silent sobs. Scott let her weep for him, unable to allow that son back in so easily. But Alana had never let him go.
She couldn’t speak, didn’t need to. Scott knew her mind, tried to soothe her tears. Once she could breathe without difficulty, he got her some water, hearing his sleeping children, six of the seven. Tanner was the quietest, but could be made out over the din of Mike’s youthful snores.
The boys’ rooms were at the end of the hall, Tanner’s the last door. It was cracked, and he inhaled with such little force Scott wondered if he was actually with them. Then Scott shuddered as the roar from Mike’s room overshadowed that elder sibling. Mike’s brother had come home, but how much of Tanner remained?
Scott had no idea, but conceded that the person sleeping in that bed had returned the rest of Alana’s bearing to her, to them all. Only Scott knew how much she had lost on that August night, set where all of Tim’s actions rested in her head. A plethora of tears were released, and if nothing else, Scott was thankful for that. He took her the water, and she drank it all. Then they made love, refilling reserves having run low over the last six weeks. Six weeks their son had been missing. Now what remained of him lay just down the hall.
As Chelsea and Andy chased loose ends, only one lingered, but a surprise appearance from Mitch wasn’t on any minds. All were still trying to adjust to Tanner.
He came round slowly, not to hide a habit or wheedle money, only to seek clemency. Some were more readily moved than others.
During his initial week home, he met with his grandparents and Sam and Jenny. Lana drove Tanner those first few days, Scott at various city offices, getting Tanner’s driver’s license and social security card replaced. The only belongings he possessed were clothes at his parents’ house. Otherwise Tanner had nothing.
But that he was still alive was meaningful, and in looking at their grandson and nephew, the oldsters held their breaths. His nearly emaciated figure drew tears, even from Jacob, but Sam was stoic. He embraced Tanner as if by doing so, he could keep Eric at bay.
Grandmothers ran hands over Tanner’s face, both clucking about his weight. Jacob clasped Tanner’s hands in his own, so aware of this boy’s tenuous hold on sanity. Tommie was the same, but did pull Tanner into his arms, as if recalling Mitch on a battlefield, Max in the coma, or Alvin’s last moments in the ambulance. Tommie whispered how much he loved Tanner, a nodding head and weeping body responding.
Jenny sat in the background, but once Tommie released Tanner, he moved her direction. Pride had started all this, his willful arrogance to assume Alana meant nothing, that Jan meant everything. Now he stood broken and aching, but on his feet. Jenny took to hers, wishing for a few tokes or some chocolate pound cake as she stepped Tanner’s way.
“It’s so good to see you.” Her voice was as if meeting him for the first time, a baby in Scott’s proud arms.
“You too Aunt Jenny. Wasn’t sure if it’d ever happen again.”
Jenny heard Rae and Debbie’s tears. “Sometimes we get a second chance. I’ve been praying for you, just so glad you’re home.”
“Yeah, home.” Tanner seemed startled by that word, then fell into Jenny’s waiting embrace.
“Home honey, oh Tanner, it’s okay. We love you baby, you’re home now.”
Jenny comforted him best; perhaps as Eric’s mother, she was Tanner’s too. When he saw his Aunt Liz, it was similar, Travis’ mom offering an equally maternal embrace. Max and Steve were wary; Tanner had threatened their sister’s life. Another man had done that and they had beaten him black and blue. Liz and Marcy balanced their husbands’ cool tenors, and by the weekend, when Courtney arrived, all in Arkendale had given Tanner their love.
He had popped in on Andy and Chelsea, then Will and Bethany, perfunctory hellos accompanied by Alana and Jenny. Tanner went to Narcotics Anonymous daily as Lana searched for an appropriate psychologist. Until his replacement driver’s license arrived, Alana drove him to various NA meetings. Then Courtney played chauffeur over the weekend. When she left, Tanner didn’t immediately hop into the extra truck Scott had waiting.
Instead he spent time at Sam and Jenny’s, Chelsea’s wedding just days away. If Tanner wasn’t there, he was at home or at either of his grandparents’ houses. All knew he was waiting, not for any sort of artificial relief, but for the brothers he’d had since he was born.
When Eric arrived on Thursday night, Tanner went with Sam to the Portland airport. Sam had been glad to take him, providing a cushion between Sam and his youngest, as well as giving Tanner a break from eyes still in disbelief. Alana had accepted her child with a far wider heart than Scott, a feeling Sam shared over Eric with his own wife. But in seeing how those two young men clung to each other, Sam had to admit perhaps Jenny was onto something.
Tanner had put on a few pounds over that collection of days. That they collided with Chelsea’s wedding was something for which Sam hoped was best, but wouldn’t hold his breath. If Tanner caused a stir, he would do what Scott had wanted, what Max and Steve still thought wouldn’t be a bad idea, just bust his ass. For what Tanner had said to Alana, for all that the rest had suffered, and for seeing his youngest in tears, grasping, clawing almost, as if Tanner was Eric’s own sibling. Sam gave them room in baggage claim as for several minutes Eric gripped Tanner. Sam assumed when Travis got in tomorrow, the scene would be similar.
A loved one returned from the dead, those having waited finally able to breathe.
Eric slept at home that night, Rachel also under Sam’s roof. David, Emily, and Courtney would arrive tomorrow, along with the rest of the cousins, but Eric had skipped a day of classes to see Tanner first of all but Tanner’s own siblings.
But before the wedding, Eric had one errand; tomorrow he would pick up Dana in Eugene. Eric’s girlfriend was attending the wedding.
Sam and Jenny discussed this once their bedroom door was closed. Was there something with Tanner’s return that scared the young woman? They had seen pictures of her, a pretty girl with dark brown hair and eyes, standing a few inches shorter than Eric, looking ambiguous. Eric liked brunettes with an air of mystery around them. Not too many of those girls in Arkendale, but he had dated a few from Albany and Salem, then several over the last three years at Stanford. Dana Browning had been in Eric’s heart for a while and was now almost within their sight.
“Maybe she’s just shy and we’re such an unruly bunch,” Jenny smiled.
Sam traced over her nightgown with his fingers. “Maybe.”
“Honey, what?”
“Jenny, I, I…”
“Sam?”
A confession stuck in Sam’s craw, more like crawling from the depths of his belly, an acidic apology that hurt heading north. “I just wanted to say that you were right.”
“About what?”
“You know about what.”
“About Eric coming home.”
“Yes. About that.”
He couldn’t say the words, for if he did, he might vomit. It was that ingrained within him, something so wrong, but necessary, like Alvin’s death. Then Sam leapt from bed, landing in front of the toilet just in time.
As Jenny reached him, Sam’s throat burned, but she carried a glass of water, then with her little strength, she helped him from the floor. Sam leaned against the wall, gulping the liquid, wishing it didn’t have to be this way. He wished for anything else, but as it was when Alvin died, Sam had no way to stop the march of events swirling around him.
“You okay?” she asked, not touching him.
“You know what this’s like?”
She nodded.
“Pretty shitty.”
“Yeah, I mean, for you. I know how much you wanted him to stay in school.”
Sam’s heart felt like it would burst, but not from joy. It should be over something wonderful, and if he let his mind drift, pleasant notions stood clear, like Chelsea in a wedding dress on his front lawn. The weather was cooperating;
no rain was forecast, temperatures not overly chilly. Will’s baby was so close; Sam could almost feel that child in his arms, a precious grandson or daughter.
David would be home tomorrow, Rachel was already there. Dressed in a light blue gown, she would stand alongside Chelsea as the maid of honor. Andy’s eldest brother was the best man and with Janessa and Susannah as flower girls, all would stand under that beech, a tree Chelsea was determined to use for her benefit, not the other way around.
A tree obliging to Sam, then he felt the acid return. Gripping Jenny’s hand, he wished Alvin hadn’t been lost, that Eric would do what he was told. Neither of them was paying attention; Tommie had told Alvin to leave that cat there and Eric wouldn’t listen to a thing Sam said.
“Honey, we have to let him do this, we can’t live his life for him. Tanner came back. He looks like hell, but he’s alive and we have to let Eric do the same.”
Jenny’s eyes bore into Sam, the same as when they decided to have him. So plain and honest, there was nothing else to do.
“Sam, after your accident, when you came out of that cubicle, that gown flapping behind you, oh my God!” Jenny caressed his face. “I was so sure you were gonna be just like Alvin, lying there, not moving, but instead you were on your feet, meeting me in the middle of the emergency room lobby. Looking not much better than Tanner, but Sam, I knew. Rachel was still so small, God, she wasn’t more than six or seven months old.”
Their last baby was conceived due to an accident; not that Eric was unplanned, only that in the spring of 1984, their small Honda had been crunched into nothing more than a heap of metal with Sam inside it. That he had only suffered facial lacerations was as astonishing as Tanner returning from Southern California. Some angel had brought Tanner home; maybe a similar one had kept Sam from devastating injuries.
Jenny’s soft voice reminded Sam how life changed on a dime, sometimes for bad, but a silver lining never seemed far from view. Forcing bile back down his throat, he clutched his wife as he had when seeing her terrified face in that hospital waiting room, not caring who saw his naked backside. That Sam had walked unscathed from a total wreck had been a miracle, and he would have to allow Eric, as well as Tanner, that same space for the mystery to continue.
Chapter 4
Alvin's Farm Book 5: An Innate Sense of Recognition Page 3
