I followed while smiling, completely understanding the gist of her feelings. This was unpleasant and disheartening and that was clear. No one ever said, “Wouldn't it be a great time to sit and prepare my final wishes?”
I thought not.
I observed the framed pictures of a young boy as I walked through her warm home. It was clearly Wyatt, smiling from ear to ear, and a couple of him, her, and a man making funny faces. A couple of them doing different things: riding horses, fishing, riding in a hot air balloon. Various framed portraits of horses decorated her white walls.
As I walked, I looked at her leather furniture and rustic wood décor, which seemed to have been handcrafted for each spot. Everything fit just so, and I had a feeling Rhonda had a part in that. She had many deer heads mounted on several spots over arches. I had always found that almost spooky, but in her home, it was exactly what I would have pictured.
“Holy moly. I would have hated to see the size of that monster if his head was that large.” I pointed at the mount that hung over the entry to the kitchen.
“My late husband hunted more than he slept. That one scared the bejesus out of me when he brought him home.”
“I can imagine.” I let out a laugh.
“Have a seat.” Mrs. Bryant pointed to the kitchen table adjacent to a beautiful, large window that overlooked just a minute part of her land. With the beautiful green grass and then flowers and bushes planted directly to what they required, it showed how she planned. She orchestrated how she wanted things done.
“Would you like coffee, tea, Diet Coke? Water?”
“Tea would be fantastic.” I began pulling her paperwork out of my folder and then opening my laptop.
“All right, let’s get this over with,” she said, sitting as if she was the professional.
“Okay, so everything looks like it has been prepared per Mr. Anderson. We just need to go over everything, initial a few things, some signatures, and I will notarize everything. I also understand that you have decided on just a couple things you want to make sure are added in an addendum.”
“Correct.”
I slid the laptop into her view so she could see everything I was going over. She reached for her glasses that she had laying on the antique table. I pointed with my pen and she followed along, nodding her head in agreement.
“The main thing is that I understand everything you own will go to your nephew, Wyatt Galloway.”
I pointed to his name in the proper sections.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And the trust from Virginia Galloway is put from your name into his, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Are there any exceptions or a backup if he were to predecease you?” This was another one of those doomed questions I hated asking.
“No, if he were to predecease me, which is highly unlikely since I have pancreatic cancer, I want everything I own to go to the Shelling Horse Rescue. There is no one else I would leave anything to. My nephew is the only one who knows what hard work is, has a moral compass that only God could create himself, and is good to the core.”
“I am sorry to hear about your diagnosis, ma’am.” All too often I had to make that statement.
“Don’t be. I’ve lived a good life…And I miss my husband fiercely. Only thing I will miss is seeing Wyatt. I was hoping to see him get married and start a family.” She paused and took a sip of her iced tea.
“But he hasn’t had luck in that department.”
“I can relate.”
“I find that hard to believe. You seem so sweet, and beautiful to boot,” Rhonda said sweetly.
“Thank you. I probably get in my own way a lot of the time. The older I get, the more cautious I become.”
“We all get in our own way, dear. Anyway, Breigh, do you mind if I call you that?” She paused but then continued without my response. “A person usually knows when they are lucky enough to have someone in their lives who really cares for them. Who really loves them, gets them. And that is how my nephew is. He is the only one in my entire life who has wanted absolutely nothing from me but my attention and time.”
I listened intently and thought how lucky they were to have this bond. Very lucky. I had it with my grandmother but it was different when you saw it as an outsider.
“You’re preparing and making sure he is set for the rest of his life…you’re giving him a final gift. Life can take anyone by storm and we don't always know how to prepare for it. You, on the other hand, are more prepared than the majority. He will thank you for that one day, when you aren't here any longer.”
I always felt like it was my duty and privilege to remind them what they were doing for their loved ones who were being left behind.
“I only have one person I care about. I want to make sure he is taken care of, although, I’m glad I will be dead when he knows about it. He will be mad, ready to spit nails.”
“I’m sure he’ll come to realize where your heart was though. Most people do,” I reassured her.
Her facial expression didn't look as sure I was.
“Off subject of your will, Rhonda, has he told you anything about…” I had begun to blush and felt the heat rising in my cheeks.
“Yes, of course, he has. He seems smitten with you, if I do say so myself.”
I smiled. “I just wanted to let you know that I would never betray your confidentiality with my job and discuss anything I know.”
“I really never gave it a second thought. You came highly recommended from my friends at church. I see how professional you are. The way you carry yourself. That would be beneath you.”
“Thank you. I just wanted to make sure you understood that.”
“Do you mind if I ask you a favor?”
“No, not at all. Any way I can help my clients, I am always happy to.”
“I need you to promise me, if you are around my Wyatt after I pass, can you please be there for him? All I ever wanted was for him to be happy.”
I swallowed hard and looked down at my hands for a second, speechless.
“I hope I didn't overstep here… Lord, my sister, Wyatt’s mom always says I have a talent at doing that.”
“No, ma’am, you didn’t. The thing is, I’m not sure what will happen, if anything, between Wyatt and me.”
“Only God knows.”
I took a sip of my tea and shook my head, not able to form any words.
Yes, only God knows.
Leaving Mrs. Bryant’s house, I needed to see my grandmother. Sometimes a person just needed a hug, and today, I needed one. Was it for reassurance of her health and to see how she was doing, or was it because I felt pain listening to what Mrs. Bryant was going to face? I wasn't sure. I guess really it was the same either way.
Working in this field, I saw a lot of people ready for death. They knew it was rearing its ugly head and instead of running from it, they faced it. They were confident in their resting place and want things to go smoothly for their loved ones. But what if you weren't ready to let that person go yet? My grandmother, for instance. When did a person ever feel ready? And did they?
I doubted it strongly. I shook my head no just thinking about it.
“Everything okay, Breigh bear? I thought you were working today at Mrs. Bryant's house?”
“I just left.” I had told my grammy where I was going today, knowing she was friends with Rhonda. Of course nothing else was spoken of, but I suspected grammy knew far more than I did from the get-go. She normally did.
I hugged her and she took me in without questions. She was always good at that, never questioning my motives or need.
“I deal with this all the time and you would think it would get easier. And it does a lot of the time. But I really can feel her love toward her nephew.”
“If I remember right, Mrs. Bryant is pretty well off,” my grammy said.
I nodded neither confirming nor denying.
“Money is the root of all evil,” I repeated, as my grandmother had tau
ght me years ago. I know my grandfather and her did well… but never, not once, had she acted like anything other than a hard worker and genuine.
“I tried to teach you that at a very young age. I’m glad it took. Your father could never get that message through his head. Always chasing a buck, that or the bottle.”
I hugged her again and when we pulled away from each, she was smiling from ear to ear.
“I sure love you,” she said sweetly.
“Love you, Grammy.”
And I did. I didn't think I would ever love someone the way I loved her.
11
BREIGH
In Texas style our weather had gone from summer to winter with a huge dive in our temperatures. It happened every year, and it was always on or before the weekend of the town festival: the hayrides, a movie in the center of the town projected on a screen the size of a highway billboard. It was a big deal for Hilltop and one of my favorite times of the year. I had been going all my life with my grandmother.
This year she was helping her friends at a pecan booth, really just sitting and visiting with them, peeling the shells of her own pecans. She was going to catch up with me later during the movie and sit with me.
Emma was supposed to show up but she also was helping at a booth. Granted, in Emma style, she would be wearing a dress and her heels, dressed for anything but a fall festival. I was fairly confident she would find a guy to hang out with. That was her MO.
I had helped face paint on some kids’ faces, which I did horribly. It was the thought that counted, right? They had recruited the wrong person to do that, because it was an ultimate fail. Year after year, in fact.
“Miss Breigh, so good to see you.” It was Mrs. Bryant coming to hopefully relieve me of my duties. The movie would be starting soon, and I wanted to get a good set of hay bales to sit on. The cooler evening was starting to blow in and the clouds in the sky were scarce, causing the effects of a winter night. I turned around as I was finishing on my last victim. Poor kid.
“Good to see you as well.” I gave her a hug, although I could tell she hadn't intended for that.
“Okay, sweetie, you are good to go.” The little girl ran to her parents to show her the work I had done. I had sympathy for her having to wear my pathetic art on her face. At least she seemed happy.
“That was an interesting looking butterfly,” Ms. Bryant commented with a look of confusion on her face.
“Oh no, that was a unicorn.” I laughed a spell, waiting to hear what she was going to say. I was fully aware of how pathetic the art was. I would have fired myself. “Oh dear, maybe you need some more practice,” she laughed sweetly. She wasn't the least bit offensive but just a truly honest person. I doubted a lie had ever left her tongue.
“Practice wouldn't help, I need a miracle! This wasn't my idea. For some reason they always put me at this booth, and every year my art gets worse.”
“Probably because how sweet you are to the kids.”
“Possibly.” I tapped my chin being a smart aleck.
“Now go on and get ready for the movie.”
“That is what I planned, after making a pit stop at the restrooms for my hands and the snack bar.”
“Good to see you again, Mrs. Bryant.”
“Breigh, if you get a chance look out for Wyatt. He is here tonight.”
“He is?”
“First time, but I got him here.” She winked at me and smiled.
“I’ll look out for him.”
And I would. I hadn’t seen Wyatt lately, but I would be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking about him.
WYATT
At my aunt’s insistence, I came to the town fall festival night. I hadn't attended last year because I was working. I like kids okay but didn't particularly want to be around a bunch of them at any given time. It was about time I came anyway, to be more involved in the community. But the most important reason was Rhonda. And possibly the mention that Breigh was going to be attending. She apparently volunteered every year.
I had walked around taking in the scene, watching the smiling faces and the joy. Of course there were the few kids throwing a fit, but all in all, everyone was enjoying themselves. I still had on my uniform from the day and wished I had removed my work boots and put on my Nikes.
Damn, it was a cold night tonight. I had brought just my hoodie but probably should have brought something else. It could be a little warmer, for sure. The cold weather had never bothered me when I was younger. I was the kid always wearing shorts to school, fighting with my mother, but now, I felt it.
I stood in front of the movie screen and all the square hay bales that were scattered in a pattern throughout the largest part of the town square. They were set up like movie theater rows.
I started to walk through them and look at what their angle was to the screen before bumping into Breigh, accidently knocking her drink and candy out of her hands and sending them flying.
If looks could kill I would have dropped dead in my tracks.
“I’m so sorry…” I said, as I bent down to try to help her.
Her dirty look turned into a sweet smile, the smile I had thought of often.
“We just keep running into each other, don't we?” she asked in a sweet voice. I expected something far uglier out of her lips after me knocking over her stuff.
“Quite literally, apparently. I am sorry, do I need to go buy you anything I ruined?”
“Nah, it’s fine…I’ll drink it still. Might be shaken a bit but I’ll survive. Now…for my Skittles, you will for sure have to buy me another.”
“And how about a coffee?”
“Oh, M&Ms then. I love coffee and M&Ms.”
“Okay then…after the movie starts okay? Have you picked your spot yet?” I asked her.
“Yep.” She sat on the hay bale and wiggled her butt on it. A perfect butt, mind you, in her jeans. Of course I had noticed it when she turned around to pick up the rest of her candy. She had on a Texas sweatshirt and a scarf around her neck. She wasn't an amateur and knew what she would need as the night darkened.
“Meeting anyone?” I asked curiously. Right after I said it I wanted to kick myself. It was none of my business.
“Yes.” She began unfolding her blanket.
“Okay, well I’ll see you later then…” I started to back away and she looked confused.
“My grammy. She is working the pecan booth and then will come join me shortly. If she shows up at all,” she said with a smile. I could get used to seeing that look on her face. She was one of a kind in her own way, a unique way.
Families had begun to occupy the hay bales and I was thankful I had arrived when I did.
“Do you mind if I sit then?” I motioned to the hay bale that she was already occupying.
“Of course not. Come sit.” She tapped the spot beside her.
“My aunt is working the face painting booth. This is the first time I have come and she invites me every year.”
“She relieved me just a bit ago. She told me you would be here and to look out for you.”
“I bet she did.” I smirked.
“The poor victims who had me paint their faces. It was pathetic. And every year I tell them to assign me to a different booth, but they always send me there.”
She moved a little closer to me and stretched her blanket out, offering me a corner of it. These little gestures meant so much that my heart ached a bit. I’d been in love before, but never with someone who wanted to care for me.
I stopped my thoughts in their tracks and got angry with myself for a minute, thinking about how my past girlfriend treated me, although I couldn't help but compare.
Kindness was overlooked so often, especially in my relationships.
I know, I know, I sound like a chick. Must be the scene around me. Thank God she can’t hear my thoughts.
I took a little bit of the blanket after a slight hesitation and looked up at her observing my face.
“Why do you look so shocked?�
��
“I’m not…I just didn't expect that you would offer me the blanket is all.”
“My grammy always says I am a mother hen. I guess I can’t really help it, since I got it from her.”
“I’m not complaining by any means. I’m just not used to it is all. My mom was caring toward me but she was never really hands-on. My aunt was the only one to really show me emotion or care for me in a way like that.”
“Sounds like you were pretty lucky to have her.”
“You can say that again. Boy, don't I know it.”
“I think a lot about how lucky I am to have had my grammy in my life. She put up with a lot from me…I was a hot mess and got into tons of trouble, rebelling as a teenager. I guess looking for what I never had in parents, but my life wouldn't have been the same without her. She is my angel. I could never repay her.”
“I find it hard to believe that you were a troublemaker. I actually was the exact opposite. I was the kid always wanting attention from my mother, which she gave me, when she wasn't busy doing her housewife clubs. It was never enough. My dad was never someone I strived to spend time with. My aunt stepped up to the plate and has been the most important person in my life for a very long time.”
“So I guess we were both lucky.”
“I guess so.”
The movie started and the introduction began to roll. The conversations all around us ceased and everyone was anticipating the movie.
The smell of kettle popcorn and coffee filled the air.
Sweet Home Alabama was never a movie I would have intended to see, but after tonight, I had a feeling it would be one of my favorites.
BREIGH
“Okay, ten more minutes and then I really do have to get going,” I said smiling, not wanting to leave any more than he did.
Who would have thought, sitting and watching a family movie in the town square on a pile of hay bales would have been this nice? I always enjoyed this night of the year, but not like this.
The movie ended over two hours ago. The crowds had cleared out and the only people remaining were the city crews cleaning up the square, preparing it for normal business tomorrow.
Be My Reason Page 7
