Homecoming

by Janet Wellington

  “Almost noon—”

  “Oh, God. Ted’s probably at your house right now. How is he ever going to explain this to Mitch?”

  Cory’s stomach fell at the insurmountable idea of having to break the news to a child that his mother was gone. “I should go.”

  Sara nodded, opening her robe to bring Molly’s mouth to her breast.

  “You two going to be okay?”

  “Having Molly here is what I think I needed most, Cory. Ted can bring Mitch back with him.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?” The immediate pain in her gut predicted Sara’s answer.

  “I imagine they’ll want his father to take him.”

  It was Jake’s own story unfolding before her eyes. “I have to go.” She leaned to kiss the top of Molly’s head, then gave her friend’s shoulder a squeeze. She’d tackle ordering the phone line installation another day. All she could think about was getting back to Jake and Mitch.

  ***

  Jake hadn’t even heard the car pull into the driveway when he saw Ted’s Honda as he walked around the corner of the house pushing a wheelbarrow filled with topsoil.

  Ted was on one knee, his hands on Mitch’s arms. Time slowed as Jake translated the look on Ted’s face and realized what was happening. His stomach clenched into a hard knot as his heart hammered painfully in his chest.

  As he dropped the wheelbarrow to the ground, spilling a pile of soil, he watched the boy step back and wriggle out of Ted’s hands, screaming, “I don’t believe you!”

  Ted reached for him again, this time holding Mitch more firmly and bringing his face close to the little boy’s. Jake ran the short distance between his position and the developing scene, snatches of his own experience flashing through his mind.

  Then Mitch turned toward him. His face was bright red and he watched as the boy’s wide eyes narrowed in anger. “I hate you! You lied—you said you’d tell me what was going on and now she’s dead! She’s dead and I didn’t even get to say goodbye!”

  Mitch burst into tears and before the boy could run away, Ted scooped him up. Jake watched, his own feet becoming weights, holding him where he stood. Ted put Mitch into the car where he curled into a ball in the front seat, tucking his arms and legs into himself, sobbing.

  Ted shut the car door softly, then turned to Jake. “I think I better take him to my house. I’m sure he didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay, Ted.” But it wasn’t okay. His heart had split in two at the sound of the hatred in the boy’s voice, as he realized he had indeed broken his promise to him. Self loathing surged through him as he watched Ted back the car out of the driveway. His hands clenched painfully, his jaw tightened.

  He stayed in the spot until the car disappeared, not knowing what to do, where to go. He’d blown it. He’d screwed up royally. And there was nothing he could do to fix it. What had he been thinking when he’d made the promise to Mitch?

  Dammit.

  He’d buried his head in the sand, avoiding even the possibility that things might not turn out all right for Mitch. He hadn’t really faced the facts until this morning when he’d talked with Cory. Now it was too late.

  He felt his nails digging into the palms of his hands and finally opened them, then took long strides toward the tool shed. Inside, he pulled the sharpened ax off its spot on the wall, then went to the pile of limbs he’d cut from a fallen dead tree. Desperate for mind numbing work, he started to split the logs into quarters against a tree stump, removing his tee-shirt as it quickly became soaked with sweat.

  He worked feverishly, throwing his anger into the swing of his ax, working at a fast pace so he could stop thinking. The boy’s pain became his own and his heart pounded as his blood boiled through his veins.

  He should have said something at the beginning...made Ted take Mitch with him to the hospital. At least he could have seen his mother, said his good-byes; at least he would have known what was happening to her. God, how could I have been so stupid?

  He stopped to catch his breath and used his shirt to mop the sweat from his face, then saw Cory running up the driveway. She came to a dead stop and looked at him, then walked slowly toward him.

  “I’m too late, aren’t I.” Her brown eyes were red-rimmed and he saw the tracks of her tears on her cheeks.

  “Yeah.” He put another log on the stump and cracked the ax against it. Splinters flew causing Cory to take a step back. Fresh concern shone bright in her eyes.

  “Jake, why don’t you come in the house...”

  He swung the ax again, and this time a larger splinter sailed her way, hitting her leg hard enough for her to say ‘ow’ and take another step back. But just for a moment. She stepped several steps closer, then, too close for him to risk swinging the ax again.

  He leaned against the handle and met her gaze.

  “Jake.”

  The worry in her voice cut through him, sending with it a new wave of anguish. “I was a bad idea for that boy.” He spat the words at her, his anger peaking, shattering the last shreds of his control.

  “He loved being here with us...with you.”

  She started to reach for him and he held up one hand to stop both her lame excuses and her touch. “I promised him I’d keep him informed about his mother and I blew it. Big time. I don’t know what the hell I thought I was doing trying to be....” What? A father figure? Bile came up his throat and burned as he choked on his fury. Then he swallowed hard and picked up the ax again.

  Cory’s eyes filled with tears as she watched his face become a glowering mask of rage. She assessed his anger; she’d back off for now, let him chop wood until he was too tired to lash out at her...or himself. Then maybe she’d be able to find the words to try to assure him that he’d done nothing wrong.

  Cory walked back into the house to gather the rest of Molly’s and Mitch’s things, relieved to have her own busy work. She tried to swallow the lump that lingered in her throat, but finally gave in to her own tears. She ached for them all—for Mitch’s loss of a mother, for Ted’s loss of a sister, and especially for Jake’s inward misery that had instantly rebuilt the walls that had given way as he’d played a fatherly role to the little boy.

  There has never been a cat

  Who couldn’t calm me down

  By walking slowly

  Past my chair.

  Rod McKuen

  Chapter 16

  “You want a ride?”

  Cory looked up to see Jake standing in the hallway. She’d packed up the diaper bag, cooler, and duffel bag and was just trying to decide if she could manage all three bags and make the trek to Sara’s.

  Not waiting for an answer, Jake walked toward her and took the bags. She followed him outside and sat in the passenger seat while he put the bags in the trunk. He still wore no shirt, and the waist of his shorts was damp with the perspiration he’d worked up splitting wood.

  When he sat down, he looked at her for several long seconds as though he couldn’t find his words. Finally, he let out a little sigh, then licked his lips. “Mind if I just drop you off? I need to go somewhere.”

  “Sure.”

  They rode in silence and Jake was glad she wasn’t trying to make him talk about his feelings like many women would have. He knew that if she’d asked, he wouldn’t have even been able to put anything into words. He felt numb, without any feelings he could even isolate, like he was functioning on auto-pilot.

  He pulled up to Ted and Sara’s and popped the trunk, keeping the engine running and staying in the car while Cory retrieved the bags. She offered him a tiny smile and a wave, then walked up to the door without a backward glance.

  Jake pulled away from the curb and drove out of town. The wind whipping against his face was what he needed more than anything at that moment; he yearned for the carefree feeling of freedom. Freedom from responsibilities, freedom from his own heart, from daring to care for Mitch in a way he shouldn’t have.

  After a few minutes he started scanning the side of th
e road, looking for an unmarked turnoff that would lead him to a secluded outcropping of rocks that jutted into Lake Michigan. It was a place he’d discovered the very first time he’d ventured away from Faythe in an old Ford he’d bought from a classmate, one he’d fixed up and kept hidden from his old man. It had been important to him even at the tender age of sixteen that he have his own wheels, his own means to get away when he needed to.

  He peered at a break in some bushes, but too late to make the turn. He jammed on his breaks, threw the car into reverse, then nosed into the narrow lane. He took the unmaintained road slow and easy until he finally pulled into a clearing. The space would be just big enough for him to shimmy his car around so he wouldn’t have to back all the way out in order to return to the highway.

  He got out of the car and starting jogging up a primitive trail that didn’t look like it had been used by more than an occasional deer. Branches scratched his bare skin as he pushed through the dense brush.

  He shouldn’t have lashed out at Cory. She’d been nothing but good to him...good for him, he admitted, and he planned an apology to her at his first opportunity. But first he needed to sort out his emotions, get back in control.

  Regardless of the physical exhaustion his body felt from chopping wood plus the aftermath of the adrenaline and anger he’d felt, his thoughts were racing haphazardly in his head. It was the feeling he detested most.

  Clambering over the large boulders, he planted himself on the rock all the way at the end, forcing himself to breathe deeply and focus on the water.

  After many minutes, he felt his brain shift into another gear, a sane gear. Then he allowed the thoughts to come, slowly, examining each closely and impartially.

  Somehow he’d make things up to Cory. Her heart was as big as the expanse of water in front of him, and it would probably be a somewhat easy task, though he’d have to be ready to answer her questions.

  No doubt she’d try to get him to talk about Mitch. That was a given. A heaviness centered in his chest as visions of the last three days flashed through his mind, mingling with flashes of his own childhood. He liked the kid, and he vowed he would see him soon, tell him the truth that he knew, explain to Mitch that the ache in his heart would never go away, but that he’d find a way to live with it; that no matter what he thought right now, he would find his own way to get through it.

  He could do for Mitch what no one had done for him, the only thing he could do. It wouldn’t erase his shortcomings with the boy, but he’d reach out the best he could. As he’d gotten older, he’d wished someone had talked to him about it when his mom had died, but no one had, forcing him to figure it all out on his own. He could at least share that much with Mitch.

  Looking back on his struggle, he was a little amazed at how he’d found his own way—and that even included his old man coming back into his life and being thrown into small town life after the hubbub of a large city. Everything had changed; the smells and sounds, the security and the familiarity...all of it had crashed down around him in a matter of days.

  And now Mitch’s experience would most likely mirror his own. He’d do whatever it took to get Mitch to listen to him. The one thing he could do for him was share some of his own experience.

  But the boy was only six, he’d been ten. He rubbed his hand over his mouth. He needed more than one quick conversation with him. When he got back to town, he’d have to find out from Ted and Sara if his suspicions were valid—that soon Mitch would be shipped east to live with his old man and his new wife and kid. If need be, he would visit Mitch there. Whatever it took, he aimed to have an impact on the boy.

  And Cory...pretty Cory. The last three months had been filled with the wonder of a woman who had shared his unexpected path, had shared something special, and at the same time snuck into his heart when he wasn’t looking. But, he needed to let her go. She wanted too much that he couldn’t give.

  And she deserved all of it.

  And then a thought hit him, sending his heart racing again. He’d give her his half of the house. She could keep the cats if she wanted to, and easily stay in Faythe just like she dreamed of. And he would get himself back to Chicago, back to the world of Think Tank where he belonged.

  It was a perfect plan.

  ***

  Jake slowed his Porsche as he entered the city limits of Faythe, his eyes darting to the Mabel’s Board and Care sign. As he slowed the car, he saw the porch was empty, save one.

  His old man.

  Okay, I’ll stop, say my goodbye. I’m in a foul mood anyway. Seems like a good idea. Get it all over with at once. He felt like crap anyway and he might as well finish the day on the lowest possible note, so it would only be up from there.

  He pulled to a stop at the curb and hopped out of the car, covering the distance to the porch in a few quick steps.

  “Hi, Pop,” he said as he stood in front of his chair, crossing his arms against his bare chest.

  “You the new gardener? You’re going to have a time with the dandelions here.”

  “It’s me. Jake.” He peered into his father’s eyes, seeing only a blankness he hadn’t seen in his last visit.

  “My, my...seems like I knew someone named Jake once. Sit down, sit down, let me see if I can remember.” He pointed to the chair next to him and Jake lowered himself into it.

  “Pop?”

  “Oh, call me Ralph. Nah, I can’t remember, but that’s nothin’ new. Can’t remember if I had breakfast today, but I can remember stuff happened to me when I was young. Crazy, huh?”

  Jake nodded, not knowing what to say.

  “Yah, I remember all the stupid mistakes I made too. Isn’t that nuts? Wisdom wasted on me when I’m too old to do shit about it.” He shook his head, then wiped his hand across his mouth.

  Jake stared at the movement, instantly recognizing it, his stomach in knots. I am like him.

  “Sometimes I get to wishin’...if I could only go back and change things... I would, you know. I had me this woman.”

  Here it comes.

  “I didn’t have a lick of sense in those days. Drowned myself in beer; would rather drink with the boys instead of going home to a woman who was just tryin’ to love a bastard like me. Had to marry her; in those days, that’s what you did, right? Lost that first one anyway, though. Then it took her three tries, but she finally dropped a kid.”

  Jake nodded.

  “What was I supposed to do with a young wife and a baby? Shit, I thought I’d probably break the kid if I held him. You got any kids?"

  “Nope. Not married.” It was almost surreal to Jake, talking with his old man as a stranger would. Cory’s words came to him then, reminding him how the disease at least took away some of the suffering because the person didn’t realizing how much they didn’t remember.

  “I’m telling you right now, boy, get married if you find someone who can tolerate ya!” He leaned close to Jake, then jabbed a finger at his chest, waiting for a response.

  “Okay,” Jake said, pushing the finger away.

  “Good. We need women; we’re all bastards without them. I know.” His voice softened a little as he continued. “I didn’t know what to do with her, you know? How could she love a bastard like me? What did that say about her? And the boy...I didn’t even know how to—” His voice faded as he dropped his head and whimpered, tears rolling down his creased cheeks.

  Jake looked around until he spotted some tissues on a nearby table, and pulled out a few and handed them to his father, and waited.

  “Yah—you listen to this old man, son, and don’t do what I did. I’d give anything to go back. I’d love her pants off.” He giggled and slapped his knee with one hand, and then stopped as suddenly as he’d started, his face sobering. “And I’d have figured out how to love my boy. I just didn’t know how.”

  Jake stared into his father’s eyes, eyes that didn’t know him; amazed at the fact that because he didn’t, it allowed the words he’d always longed to hear to come tumbling out of
his father’s mouth.

  “You hear a word I been sayin’, boy?”

  The voice sounded mean again, and he watched his father’s face transform, eyes now narrowed and his mouth an angry slash across his wrinkled face.

  “Who are you? Go away!”

  Jake jerked back, shocked at the speed at which his father’s personality had shifted. No matter—through the fog, his father’s heart had spoken, and in that moment he thought he might be able to forgive him.

  “See you later, Ralph.” Jake touched his father’s shoulder and the old man looked up at him with frightened eyes. Then his face relaxed and a crooked smile formed.

  “See ya. Don’t be a stranger.”

  An emotion he couldn’t quite name filled Jake, and he knew it wouldn’t be his last visit. He sat in his car for a moment, still amazed at how different he felt, then started the engine and headed back to Tillie’s house...no, Cory’s house. The thought made his mood even more buoyant and he hoped like crazy that Cory would be there.

  He had so much to tell her.

  No heaven will not ever Heaven be,unless my cats are there to welcome me.

  Unknown

  Chapter 17

  Cory finished writing the note to Jake, then put it on the kitchen table where he’d be sure to find it. She heard Ted softly tap his horn. They’d need to leave right now in order to be on time for his appointment at the funeral parlor.

  He’d been visibly relieved and Sara had nodded her agreement when Cory had offered to go with him and help with the arrangements. Sara would stay home with Molly and Mitch and be there to answer the phone, which had already begun ringing with calls of sympathy.

  Word had traveled quickly. Like any small town, everyone got involved in weddings and funerals; both requiring food and phone calls. Cory envisioned Sara’s refrigerator would soon begin filling up with casseroles and bundt cakes, and then the flowers would start coming.

  She wished Jake had been home when she’d had Ted stop by. She’d wanted to check his mood, reassure him that Mitch was doing okay; instead she’d have to make do with a short note.