The Heart of the Matter

by Heather M Green

  As an adult, nothing changes. Just when I thought I had no more tears to cry, they came. The mere sight of my mom and dad and I had permission to break down.

  “Now come on,” my dad said. “What’s with all the tears?”

  “She’s thrilled to see us, David,” my mother stated as if no explanation ought to be necessary.

  My father pulled back and looked into my glossy eyes with a question in his own.

  I offered him a weak smile. “Sorry,” I apologized. “Don’t know what happened there.”

  He searched a minute more and handed me into my mother’s waiting arms. “So good to see you, honey,” she said softly. “You have to tell us all about my new grandbaby. And little Jeran...How is he? And what’s this about you not staying at the house?”

  “You catch her up while I go get the luggage,” my dad said. “Grab one of those luggage carts so I don’t have to carry it all by myself.” He winked at me. “Although I could.”

  I laughed and watched him walk away. My crazy dad…

  “So…” my mother urged.

  “There’s so much to tell,” I started. “It will take a while to cover everything. Dylan is home, of course. He’s doing so well. He’s smiling and cooing. And Jeran...You won’t recognize him.”

  “Of course not, dear. He’s was only a few months older than Dylan is now when we left.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, he talks up a storm,” I laughed. “He’s a little stinker. But a cute stinker. And Trevor is a good dad.”

  My mother nodded as if there was no question. After all, he wasn’t raised to be any other way.

  I spotted an empty luggage cart and snatched it up quick. “And the scenery...Mom, you’ll think you died and went to heaven. Nothing but green. Wet and cold too.” Unlike the stifling Texas heat.

  “Well, I’ll want my jacket then,” she said as if already making a list in her head of things to pack when we flew there in just over three weeks.

  “Probably a coat,” I replied. “And an umbrella.”

  We pushed the cart over to my father and I snagged one of their suitcases off the carousel.

  “There’s another one,” my mother pointed out.

  When all their luggage was piled onto the cart, we maneuvered it into the eighty-five degree heat where my car waited in short term parking. What a change from drizzly Portland. And I had worried that I’d never warm back up. Ha.

  “Do y’all want to stop for something to eat?” I asked as we pulled onto the freeway.

  “Oh, no,” my mother waved off the suggestion. “We’ll make sandwiches at home.” Always the practical one.

  “I thought y’all would be exhausted after your long flight.”

  “Sandwiches won’t take but a minute,” my mother informed me.

  “We’ll need to stop at the H-E-B then,” I reminded her. “I wouldn’t want to eat any bread that may still be at your house.

  “Let’s stop at Rudy’s BBQ,” my dad suggested. “It’s almost been two years, Dahlia. You can’t tell me that doesn’t make your mouth water.” I watched him wiggle his eyebrows through the rearview mirror and smiled.

  “Sound’s good, Dad. We could get it to go and I’ll stop and pick up some groceries while y’all unpack.”

  “Well, thank you, darlin’. You’re a good girl,” my mother praised, patting my arm. “Isn’t she a good girl, David?”

  “You know what would make you even better?” he asked with a sparkle in his eye. “Picking up the bill for the BBQ.”

  “Oh, David. You really are something else,” my mother replied with a teasing shove to his shoulder.”

  I shook my head. “Good to have y’all home.”

  “Hey, friend,” Kaley said. “How are things?” She sounded hesitant like she was testing the waters.

  “Things are good,” I replied. “It’s great to hear from you. I miss you.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You know...I worried it would be awkward between us after my brother who I’m not claiming these days did the unthinkable.”

  My heart squeezed at her words. “You are in luck,” I said, feigning cheerfulness. “I have been blessed with the divine ability of separating the offender and the innocent bystander. Just don’t bring him up and we’ll be fine.”

  “Have you found a place for your clinic?” she asked, effectively changing the subject.

  “No. But I am an eternal optimist.”

  “Listen to you! I’m impressed.”

  “Yes. I am optimistic that it will take an eternity to find a place.”

  Kaley laughed. “Any hot dates to report on?”

  “For Adri? Yes. For me? Not so much. But as I recently told you, I am an eternal optimist.” What I didn’t tell her was that I wasn’t ready in any way to risk my heart on a man again. It was too soon to tell if I’d ever be.

  “Right.”

  “And I have a promising career as a high paying waitress and am rooming with my best friend in a tiny, non-air conditioned apartment for the foreseeable future. I am living the American dream on steroids. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. It beats living with my parents.”

  “You’re in a mood today,” Kaley commented with another laugh.

  “I do have a good story involving a shopping trip at the mall and an up and coming film maker. He wanted me to play in the starring role.”

  “Seriously? That’s amazing. I can’t believe it. I didn’t know you were into acting.”

  “Yes. Well, I’m pretty sure this role is way out of my league.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. I’m dying here. Tell me.”

  James

  "I really appreciate this, man," Andy told me. "They said my car would be ready yesterday, but you know how it goes."

  "No problem. You caught me on a free day."

  "You haven't had too many of those lately. What's up with that?"

  "I've been on call more. Some of the other doctors have had family stuff."

  Andy looked at me skeptically. "Yeah. Sure."

  "You'll be happy to know that I have a date this weekend. Maybe that will get you off my back."

  "Don't count on it."

  Silence filled the car. While it wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, Andy wasn't one to let silence reign. He reached to turn up the volume on the radio.

  "Dude, what is this?" he asked with a laugh. His eyebrows pulled down. "’...Watching airplanes take off and fly...' Is that what he said? No wonder you've been walking around like a zombie for weeks. I'd shoot myself if I had to listen to this."

  "I don't know what it is. I don't even listen to the radio," I defended myself.

  "Then what's…” He fiddled with buttons. “This isn’t even the radio. It’s a CD. Where’d you get this?” I watched with a sinking feeling as he ejected the CD and read the front. “Ah... I see,” he gave a laugh. “It's compliments of she-who-shall-not-be-named. That's what happens when you give the woman control of the sound system."

  "Funny. I haven’t ever given a woman control in my car and I don't have a problem talking about her."

  "Good to know. Wait." He held up a hand when I moved to take the CD from him. "Let's listen to more. I want to know what made Sophie tick." Andy inserted the CD and cranked up the knob, hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, and started tapping his foot to the beat with exaggerated motions.

  "Come on, man," I complained and reached for the volume control.

  "No. Leave it for a minute. This is great," he laughed as another country song came on. "As long as I live. Whatever I do. As great as it is, you know what's a bummer? I ain't ever gonna beat this summer with you..." Andy rolled down his window and stuck his arm out to catch the wind.

  After a torturous length of time, Andy grunted and shook his head. "Yeah. That's enough of that," he said decisively and switched to the radio with the push of a button.

  Relief swept through me as some band screamed lyrics throu
gh my car. I couldn't get away from her. She was everywhere. Even her music mocked me and left me without the ability to draw a full breath. I groaned and ran a hand through my hair, grateful we were almost to the mechanic’s shop.

  “How was your day,” my brother-in-law asked as he leaned in to kiss Kaley’s cheek.

  “Predictable,” she responded. “Same faces, same errands, same messes.”

  Mark laughed. “It’s when the pattern changes that you have to be concerned.”

  Then Kaley brightened. “Except I did get a call from…” She glanced my way. “Anyway, she told me the funniest story.”

  Mark sat down at the table and smiled for her to continue. “Yeah?” he asked.

  “She and her friend were shopping the other day and at least three men hit on her in a two hour period. One of which was some loser with ‘Porn Star’ printed across his t-shirt. But he didn’t just ask her out. He also asked if she’d pose for a selfie. She wasn’t sure what kind of selfie he was interested in, so she grabbed her friend by the arm and shoved past the guy. Needless to say, she decided to cut her losses and went home where she was safe. I mean, how many crazies are there in San Antonio?” Kaley’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Oops. Sorry James.”

  I rolled my eyes. “As if I didn’t know who you were talking about from the very beginning.”

  “I thought it was only that obvious to me,” Andy chimed in sarcastically. “James is just happy that San Antonio is taking a chapter from his book and not moving on either.”

  I glared at Andy and crossed my arms over my chest. “Don’t call her that. And I’ve moved on. How many girls did I go out with last week?” I asked.

  Andy shrugged. “Who knows. I lost count after ten.”

  “Oh, come on,” Kaley said incredulously. “More than ten in one week? It couldn’t have been that many. You haven’t even dated that many women in the past seven years combined. That’s like two a night-”

  “What does it matter how many?” I interrupted, exasperated. “The point is I’ve moved on.” I raised my glass. “Here’s to me and San Antonio moving on.”

  “That’s hilarious considering you could have been the one she moved on with,” Kaley said wryly. “You can’t even say her name.”

  “I can too,” I countered. I just did. Although I suddenly had the urge to tug at my shrinking collar.

  Andy belted out a laugh. “Now that’s what’s hilarious. You cannot. You say you have no problem talking about her or saying her name, but you can’t say her name. Just like you can’t go running on the old trails. You can’t listen to the radio. You can’t go to certain beaches.” He waved me off in disgust. “Don’t make me go on.”

  “If only,” I muttered. “You’re so helpful. You all ought to go into practice together. Corner poor suckers and help them figure out their love lives.” I stood abruptly from the table. “But leave me out of it. I didn’t ask for your ‘help’.” I raised my hands and made air quotes. “Butt out.”

  “Just because you are running your own dating service out of our apartment doesn’t mean you have moved on. In fact, it only makes you look like you are trying too hard,” Andy called to my retreating back.

  I clenched my fists and shoved out the front door. Its resounding slam did nothing toward calming my anger. And I was angry, but not at Kaley or Mark or even Andy. I was angry at myself. Why couldn’t I move on? Ten women in the past week was a slight exaggeration, but it could have been fifty for all the good it was doing. No one was as smart, or as witty, or as excited about the ocean. No one could tease, or cut hair, or drive me crazy with a Texas drawl. No one was Sophie.

  I wouldn’t admit to anyone that country was fast becoming one of my favorite genres of music. Maybe it was because it had the ability to accurately pin down my feelings to the exact emotion. Sappy and hopeless. Despondent and in utter denial. Its lyrics of loving and leaving spoke to my soul even as they tore me down to the point that I had to change the station or bawl my pathetic eyes out. And they all reminded me of Sophie. I felt closer to her when I listened even as I was faced with the stark reality that if I was a drinking man like Andy said weeks ago, I’d be wasted most days of the week.

  “What are you doing here?” my father asked as I stepped into his shop. “And in the middle of the week?” He picked up the compressor hose and blew the sawdust off his clothing. I watched as the dust swirled around the room and settled on the previous layers building on every surface, coating and covering in a blanket of security.

  “Do I need to have a reason to come visit my old man?” I asked, brushing absently at some dust on my shirt sleeve.

  “No. But it would explain a lot.”

  “No explanations necessary. I felt like a drive and the road brought me here.” I shrugged.

  “What’s new then?” he asked with a matching shrug of indifference.

  “Not much. Work. Dating. More dating.”

  “You know, with that girl of yours gone, your mom is bent on setting you up with every female relative of every member of our congregation- old or young.”

  I ignored the painful stab at Sophie being called ‘my girl’ and rolled my eyes instead. “Can’t you talk her out of it? I think I’m old enough to get my own dates.”

  “I think she’s more afraid that you aren’t capable of keeping them.” He threw me a pointed look like he didn’t believe it himself.

  “Oh, please,” I said in disgust. “Everybody’s a critic.”

  “And for good reason. You’re not doing something right, it appears.”

  I felt my defenses rise. “Are you going to throw Nicole in that ‘nothing right’, as well? That one wasn’t-”

  “Oh, knock it off,” he interrupted with a forceful wave of his hand. “I know that wasn’t your doing and you know I wasn’t talking about her.” He went to a workbench and dug through various tools and discarded odds and ends of wood, searching for something. “I probably don’t need to tell you this but Sophie was a keeper. Better not let your mother know you are here or she’ll be all over you about letting Sophie go back to Texas. She was pretty fond of her.”

  “I didn’t let her go back. Sophie does what Sophie wants.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “It had nothing to do with me.”

  “It had everything to do with you from what Kaley says.

  I growled in frustration and ground out, “Enough.” Dad’s only response to my outburst was a raised eyebrow. “Why is everyone so interested in my life? Don’t you all have something better to do?” And why was everyone so calm about everything all the time? Didn’t anyone else feel like jumping out of their skin because it rubbed and chafed? I didn’t feel right in my own skin anymore. What was the matter with me? Maybe I was coming down with something.

  “Trust me. We all have a lot better things to do than watch you self destruct.” What had Kaley told him, exactly? “But we do it because we love you. That’s the only reason, or I wouldn’t waste my time.”

  “So I’m a waste of your time, huh?”

  “When you’re like this, yes,” he admitted without shame.

  “Want to hear how much of a keeper she was?” I asked. “What was it she accused me of? Not trusting her with my feelings.” I barked out a humorless laugh. “That’s something only a woman would say. And what about accusing me of not leaning on her?” I asked without missing a beat.

  “You frustrate me to no end. Tell her you need her or move on, but do something.” If only I could. “This pity party thing isn’t working for you. And it’s driving your mother and sister crazy. That affects me by default and I’m tired of it. I’m too old for this.”

  “I can lean,” I plowed on, not understanding why I was pushing this. “Ask Andy. I have no problem leaning in to steal a basketball. I lean over to pick up my shoes off the floor. I also lean over delicate babies who have a chance at life because of what I do.”

  “Now you are just being stupid. You can try to spin it any way you
want, but the fact is she’s right about you. You’re scared. I understand that. But stop playing the victim. Own your choices. What have I always told you about faith and fear?”

  “I know. I know,” I answered.

  “Dig deep and find your courage, son. Courage isn’t the absence of fear, you know. It’s stepping into the unknown in spite of the fear. You could step into the unknown with Sophie and have something wonderful and fulfilling. Like nothing you’ve ever imagined. Now that’s not to say that life will be perfect, but it’s sure a lot better to go the ups and downs of life with someone than to go it alone. Or you can let fear rule your life, leaving you unfulfilled, depressed, and listening to country music all the time.” He cast a sly glance my way.

  “But how did you…”

  “Uh, huh.” He grinned. “I didn’t make it all the way through life by just looking pretty. Give me a little credit.” He stood and walked over to a workbench. “By the way, I found this a few weeks ago and I wondered if you wanted to get around to finishing it.” He turned and tossed a block of wood which I easily caught. My boat. I groaned out loud.

  “Now what’s the matter? My father used to tell me that the wood could speak to you if you’d let it. I thought he was crazy. But you know what? One day, I listened. It does speak to you. See what this one is telling you.”

  Nothing else to do. I shrugged and threw on a pair of safety glasses.

  “You coming for Thanksgiving?” he hollered across the room.

  “Am I still invited?” I hollered back.

  He pointed a warning finger at me and muttered, “It’s a wonder you made it as far as you have in life, as stubborn and dense as you are. Bring your cousin along if he doesn’t have a place to go.” With a shake of his head, he left the shop.

  I grinned, adjusted the jigsaw, and got to work. I’d finish this one.

  And as I sawed, shaped, and sanded, the wood spoke to me. The memories came.

  “Mom!” I called as I shoved through the front door. “Davey wasn’t at school today. The kids were saying he got hit by a car last night.”