by Pamela Morsi
For Piney, the breakup was welcome, but anything that hurt his son, even in passing, he wanted to heal.
“Have you already told her?”
“Yeah, we had another big blowup last night,” Tree answered. “It’s like totally finished. I mean it’s finished for now, I guess.”
That didn’t sound particularly definitive to Piney. If Tree were uncertain, Piney was pretty sure that Camryn would talk herself back into his life very quickly. He might be needed to shore up his son’s resolve. But he could hardly do that if he were trying to stay out of it.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked tentatively.
Tree glanced up, almost startled, then his eyes narrowed as he glared across the table.
“Nothing happened,” he snapped. “Isn’t that exactly what you’ve wanted? For nothing to happen.”
The two faced off for a long moment. Then Tree looked down at his bowl of cereal with distaste.
“I’m not hungry,” he announced and got up so quickly he knocked over his chair. He left it where it lay and stomped off to his bedroom.
Piney looked wryly in the direction his son had gone. Teenagers are supposed to get mad at their parents. They are supposed to transfer all their pent-up dissatisfactions and repressed angers toward those closest to them. It’s textbook. A natural part of the maturation process, breaking away and becoming their own person. Still it wasn’t exactly a lot of laughs having the child he loved look at him as if he were a worm.
Of course, Piney knew he wasn’t actually the worm, he was merely the worm’s representative. The worm was maintaining chastity in a body flooded with hormones. Testosterone levels go through the roof at seventeen. Male sex drive peaks. The libido, which has been steadily gaining strength for ten years, easily takes the driver’s seat in a young man’s brain. It seemed obvious to Piney that high school sex was not so much a moral failing as a biological imperative. Resisting that had been the worm in the apple all along. If Tree was intimate with a hometown girl, she’d drag him down. Just as Piney had been dragged down. He wasn’t sorry about the life he’d had, but he wanted Tree to have those chances that he didn’t have. Sex put those chances at risk. And with teenage romance, it was always about sex. At least that’s the way he’d remembered it. Every moment of every day was about sex.
Well, perhaps not that bad, he thought to himself. But it had been at least periphery through most of his waking hours. And most of his sleeping hours, too. He was certainly glad to be past that.
He felt sorry for Tree, but abstinence was a great character builder. And the long stretches of it in his own life had certainly made him appreciate the sweetness of his current situation. As he dug into his breakfast, his thoughts quickly slipped away from his son’s love life to his own. He needed to see Aunt Will today, but he wouldn’t feel this eager if Jesse weren’t in residence.
God, she’s wonderful! The thought brought a sappy grin to his face. Deliberately he reminded himself that theirs was a short-term affair, but maybe not as short as they first imagined. Now that Jesse knew about her aunt’s health, she’d be in no hurry to get back to her real life. Of course, it wasn’t right for him to benefit from the dear old lady’s illness. Still, Piney was pretty sure that Aunt Will wouldn’t mind.
After he finished his breakfast, Piney took a quick shower and shaved. He was whistling again as he dressed in his gray suit and blue striped tie. He shrugged on his overcoat and pulled a knitted cap down on his head.
Before leaving, he paused momentarily in front of Tree’s door. “I’m at the church.”
No response, but he didn’t really expect one. His son either had his earbuds in, or he was choosing not to respond. Piney hoped it was the former, but it didn’t matter either way.
The grassy slope beyond his porch shimmered with frost. As he walked down toward the road, his breath puffed around him, visible in the cold air. The cars in his parking lot were just overflow from the Sunday service. He could hear the singing as soon as the choir commenced. He was late, but that was okay. The frequency of medical emergencies in the community gave him the leeway to show up late and leave early. He happily used that latitude.
He climbed the pinewood steps of the McNees Piggott Families Church and attempted to slip in the door unobtrusively. Vernon Plum, one of the deacons, had apparently waited for him. The two shook hands and Vernon offered to take Piney’s hat, but he demurred by stuffing it into his pocket before hanging his coat on the last hook in the vestibule.
The congregation was on the last verse of “Great is Thy Faithfulness” when he slipped into the pew. Once everyone was seated, the pastor, known in the community as Brother Chet, stood at the pulpit to make announcements.
He and Brother Chet were not friends. Piney assumed it was because Chet was a relative of Piney’s ex-wife. Although most in the community blamed Shauna for her problems and pitied Piney for the failed marriage. A minority of folks, most of whom were family of Shauna’s, saw a lovely, sweet teenager impregnated by Piney and rushed to the altar. Then dragged away from her home and family to find and be swallowed up by all the evils of the world outside the mountain.
Piney had a certain amount of sympathy for that view, but he didn’t share it.
He and Brother Chet had never discussed it. Because families in health crisis often sought spiritual support, he and Brother Chet were frequently thrown together in the course of their work. They were polite and respectful of one another. Neither the breakup nor his former marriage had ever once been mentioned. This was by design on both sides. Perhaps the most useful trait for living in a small community was a very faulty and unreliable memory.
Piney glanced around the sanctuary. The small size of the building made the presence of perhaps forty people feel like a crowd. He knew everyone in attendance. There were Piggotts and McNees, of course. There were also Ramsgates and Blakemores, Jays and Glucks, Turleys and Traces. In the one hundred and eighty years that people had lived on this mountain, all the families had intermarried to some degree. Keeping in touch with heritage lines was a pastime in which most indulged, if only for defensive purposes. Everybody was aware that “marrying too close” was bad for breeding. But Piney was fairly certain that if you took the DNA of every person in the room, kinship would be demonstrable.
Piney’s kinship was both sides. His great-grandfather Eben Baxley’s mother was a McNees who had married Mavis Phillips, granddaughter of a Piggott. But he didn’t consider the mountain the only place he had heritage. His mother had come from California. And his grandmother had been a European war bride. Still, he had chosen to live here among these roots and he valued them.
Something caught the corner of his eye and he turned his head to catch Camryn looking at him. His automatic response was to smile. She answered that friendly gesture with a narrow-eyed glare before turning away. Undoubtedly she blamed him for her boyfriend troubles. Piney mentally shook his head. At least the two teenagers still shared something in common, anger at him.
They sang another hymn that rang a little nasal thanks to the enthusiasm of Monroe Broody at the end of the pew. Then Brother Chet read a passage from the book of Isaiah and began to preach. The pastor was a great fan of the Old Testament. Piney preferred the Gospels, but feigned interest as he let his mind wander. It was undoubtedly profane for him to be daydreaming about Jesse, her smile, the softness of her skin, that sound she made in the back of her throat. Sin for certain, but he couldn’t work up any guilt about it. That was probably worse. Yet, he made no attempt to stop, nor did he ask one word of forgiveness. Instead he was anxious for the service to end, anxious to get up the mountain and back into her arms.
The sermon eventually concluded and the deacons passed the collection plate. As soon as Piney added his envelope, he stealthily slipped out the back door. His step was so lively along the road and up the slope that he was almost running.
Inside the house he changed into slacks and a sweater, but decided to leave on the ti
e. After all, when a man went to see a woman, he needed to look his best.
Tree’s door was still closed when he walked by. He stopped and tapped on it just as he had earlier.
“I’m going up the mountain to see Aunt Will,” he said. “You’ll need to fix your own lunch.”
Immediately from within the room Piney heard two very large feet hit the floor only an instant before Tree flung the door open.
“I’m going with you,” he said.
Piney could have easily whined aloud. It was going to be difficult enough to get time alone with Jesse at the cabin. It was going to be impossible if his son were along for the ride, as well.
“I thought you were going to shoot baskets,” he said.
Tree shrugged. “I got something I want to ask Aunt Will about,” he said.
He was already donning his coat. Piney didn’t know of any reasonable way to dissuade him. He didn’t have permission to say that Aunt Will was sick. He couldn’t confess to wanting to be alone with Jesse. The only other option was to tell his son that he wasn’t welcome. Piney couldn’t bring himself to do that. So together they walked out to the truck and began the drive that would take them up the most miserable excuse for a homestead approach on the mountain. The slow going was made even morose by the silence inside. Both lost in thought.
“This road is crap,” Tree said finally.
“Yeah,” Piney agreed. “I worry about needing to get an ambulance up here.”
“Why doesn’t somebody fix it?”
“It’s Aunt Will’s property,” he answered. “And since she doesn’t own a vehicle, she lost interest in keeping it up.”
“Guess so.”
They finally arrived at the cabin. The sun had come out from behind the clouds, now revealing a large expanse of blue sky. But with the clearing came a brisk wind from the north swooping down the slopes and adding a bite to the exposed skin on his nose and cheeks.
The cold hastened their footsteps as they made their way from the truck to the cabin.
Tree was in front of him when they reached the door. His son didn’t even bother to knock. He assumed he was welcome to barge right in. And apparently he was.
“Well, look who’s a sight for sore eyes,” Aunt Will said. “And we’re just sitting down to a bite to eat. A growing boy like you is always going to be hungry.”
The old woman was seated in her rocking chair next to the fire. Tree walked over and knelt down beside her, taking Aunt Will’s hand in his own and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Piney looked past them, focusing his eyes on Jesse. Somehow she looked even more gorgeous today than she had yesterday. And he remembered yesterday very fondly.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
Her answer was a smile and a nod. Her cheeks were flushed with color. Obviously she recalled yesterday, as well.
Within a couple of minutes they were all seated at the table together consuming a lunch of rice and beans with Piney’s favorite beet pickles and the piccalilli that he and Jesse had created together.
Aunt Will was jovial and upbeat, but Piney noticed that she talked more than she ate. She seemed especially pleased by the presence of Tree. The old woman always loved being around kids. It was almost as if their youth itself revived her. Still, as the meal progressed her energy began to fade. He wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“Are you about ready for your nap, Aunt Will?” Jesse asked. “I’m sure the dog would love to come inside and be your footstool.”
“Let’s leave Lilly June by the fire,” she answered. “I think I’ll take a short lay-down in the bed.”
“Are you sick, Aunt Will?” Tree asked.
“Yes, I am,” she told him, her chin high and her voice firm. “My earthy vessel is prut-near worn out. I’m dying.”
Tree’s jaw dropped open in shock and his young brow furrowed with hurt and concern.
“Your daddy’s been keeping my secret for a while now,” she continued. “But we’ve decided it’s time to ’fess up. Don’t worry too much. It’s the natural order of things. Children grow up and the old go on over. Not that mysterious at all. From here out I’ll have some good days and bad. The more I rest and eat right, the more good days I’ll have.”
Tree’s face was pale with distress. “I…I’m so sorry, Aunt Will,” he said. “I’m…I’m sorry.”
Piney could see his son struggling with the inadequacy of words. He wished there was a way to protect him from this, from life and its ultimate end. There was not. In the battle for health, it was only day-to-day victories. The ultimate outcome of the war was predetermined.
Aunt Will reached across the table to take Tree’s huge, youthful hand into the grasp of her own. “Try to let your mind rest easy on this,” she told him. “The world is full of worry. But somehow, given time, the big things have a way of working themselves out.”
She was smiling and she rose to her feet. Piney thought she looked unsteady enough that he immediately went to stand beside her. She gratefully took his arm and he got her to her bed without incident.
As she lay back she heaved a sigh of pure exhaustion.
“Let me get my bag,” he said.
She nodded and he quickly retrieved it from the main room. Tree was helping Jesse to clear the table. He offered a hopeful smile to both before returning to the bedside.
He checked her pulse and blood pressure, neither of which was particularly worrying. She had closed her eyes, but her breathing indicated wakefulness. Piney decided to linger until she drifted off.
Within the quiet, he could hear Tree and Jesse in the next room. They were relaxed together, conversing amiably among the clink of dishes moving in and out of the sink.
“Did you and Camryn take my car out for a spin last night?” she asked.
“No.” The sound of the word was almost wishful. “We stayed at her house to watch TV,” he answered. After a pause he added, “Then we broke up.”
“You broke up? Oh…gee…sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Tree answered. “It was me. I broke it off.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it seemed like the thing to do. That’s why…that’s why I wanted to talk to Aunt Will. She always got us, you know. She spoke up for us back when everybody thought we were too young to be dating.”
“Just because she spoke up for you then, doesn’t mean that she would expect you to still be dating now,” Jesse said. “Sometimes the feelings we have for people change. Sometimes they go away and—”
“They haven’t gone away,” Tree interrupted her quickly. “Cammy’s still my girl. I really, really love her a whole lot. And she loves me.”
There was hesitation in Jesse’s voice. “Okay…”
“We’ve been a couple for four years already,” he said. “And it makes sense that it’s time to move to the next level. I want that, too, maybe. But I’m sick of everybody telling me what to do.”
“I think that goes with all teenage territory,” Jesse said. “It’s a time when lots of things are possible. Parents, teachers, even friends all have good ideas of how to make the best of that.”
Piney heard Tree sigh heavily. “If I let people push me around on the basketball court the way they try to in my real life, I would have been cut from the first string years ago.”
Jesse didn’t reply.
“The adults are bad enough, but it’s Cammy, too. She always plays to my weak side trying to force me to the baseline,” he said. “If she were my opponent on the court, I would take her out for that.”
“But she’s not your opponent.”
“Nope…she’s my girl.”
A full minute passed with only the sounds of dishes moving in and out of the sink before Tree posed his dissatisfaction into a question.
“What do you think Aunt Will would tell me to do?”
In the darkness of the old woman’s bedroom, Piney smiled. His son, who was sick of being told what to do, was soliciting a further opinion. Somehow that gav
e his father comfort.
Jesse answered thoughtfully. “I think she’d tell you to listen to all and any advice that you’re offered. But weigh your own opinion equal to the total of everyone else’s. After all, you’re the one who will have to live with it.”
The teenager heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t know why we’re always in a hurry to be grown-up. I think it’s a lot better to be a kid and only worry about basketball.”
His father couldn’t have agreed with him more.
26
Jesse was disappointed that she got almost no time alone with Piney on his visit. But his priorities were right. Aunt Will needed attention. And Aunt Will’s situation was serious. Their relationship or affair or whatever it was, had been conceived specifically not to be serious. It was casual, a lark. Sex for the fun of it.
That’s what she’d needed yesterday.
Today what she needed was comfort. Someone…someone very much like Piney to hold her tightly and assure her that somehow everything would be fine.
Of course, everything wasn’t going to be fine. And even if it were, she doubted that Piney would be inclined to be her shoulder to lean on. Her specific attraction seemed to be that she was only passing through. And he was, she reminded herself, the rebound guy. The fewer expectations she had, the better.
But she had expected an opportunity for more privacy. That wasn’t going to happen with his son in tow. And Tree obviously required inclusion in any conversation.
It was late in the afternoon when Aunt Will awakened. Jesse had hoped that the teenager might spend some time privately confiding with the older woman. That would give Jesse and Piney a chance to wander off alone. But that, as well, was never meant to be.
Floyd and Alice Fay Pease arrived.
The friendly couple who’d given Jesse her first ride up the mountain came knocking on the door. Aunt Will didn’t seem surprised to see them, although they seemed somewhat surprised to be there.
“We visited overnight with our daughter in Mountain Home,” Alice Fay explained. “While we were driving back, we both got the notion that we needed to come up here and see to you.”
