by Sharon Sala
Bowie took a deep breath, thinking about that first moment and seeing her face.
“Whatever she wants.”
“That’s where we’re all at right now,” Samuel said.
The chopper was overhead now, and the noise was deafening.
“Gotta go. Chopper’s here. See you soon.”
Bowie disconnected, dropped the phone in his jacket pocket and picked up his duffel bag.
The chopper landed. Bowie tossed in his bag, then took a seat beside the pilot and put on the extra headset.
“Ready?” the pilot asked.
Bowie gave him a thumbs-up.
And then they were gone.
* * *
“Was that Bowie?” Leigh asked, as she saw Samuel slip his phone back in his pocket.
“Yes. He’s on his way, Mama. He’s got a chopper bringing him straight here. I’m going into Eden to pick him up in a couple or three hours.”
“I want to go, too,” she said.
The other brothers heard the news, and when it was finally time for Samuel to head down the mountain, the rest of them loaded up, including Jesse, and followed behind him.
Stanton’s brother and sister and their spouses were still at the house to take care of things. The men had volunteered to do the evening chores, while the women moved to the kitchen to begin making supper for everyone. Their church family had already heard the news and had begun bringing food to the house so the cooking would be minimal.
* * *
The ride down was fairly quiet. The closer Samuel got to town, the faster he drove. Bowie was the oldest and the missing piece to the family that Leigh needed.
He glanced up in the rearview mirror at Jesse, who was sitting quietly in the backseat of Samuel’s pickup. Jesse seemed calm, but it was always hard to tell.
Leigh was in the front seat beside him. Her hands were in her lap, clenched into fists. There was a muscle jerking at the side of her jaw, but she had dressed up for Bowie in one of her church dresses and had tied back her hair. If it hadn’t been for the raw scratches on her face and arms, no one would have guessed they were a family in crisis.
They drove into town without the fanfare they had created earlier in the day, and then turned off Main toward the hospital. There was a block of parking spaces in front of the helipad where Samuel parked to wait. Michael and Aidan pulled up beside him. They all rolled down their windows to let in the evening air.
Leigh couldn’t focus. Her thoughts were filled with horror. She knew in her heart that her last day of true happiness had ended with Stanton’s last breath. Yes, she would go on, because that was the burden of the living. And, yes, there would be laughter again one day, and there would be times of calm, and times she felt peaceful in her heart. But it would be the absence, the longing, the loneliness, that would be with her always. She took a deep breath and tried not to cry. She was holding on so tight for so many when all she wanted to do was weep.
The sounds of kids playing nearby and a dog barking at a passing car made everything seem so ordinary. She heard a siren somewhere off in the distance. The police were at work. An ambulance pulled out from one of the bays behind the fire station next door and took off with lights and sirens running.
Jesse leaned forward and touched Samuel’s shoulder.
“Someone’s hurt,” he said, pointing to the ambulance as it turned a corner and drove out of sight.
“Looks like it,” Samuel said.
Jesse looked at his mother.
“Mama, do you reckon I better say a prayer for them?”
Leigh turned around, reached for Jesse’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“I think that would be a fine thing for you to do, son.”
And so they sat in the swiftly fading light with the breeze on their faces and aches in their hearts, listening to the sweet halting words of a gentle, broken man.
Four
Talia Champion heard the news about Stanton Youngblood’s murder when Erin McClune, the hospice nurse, came to check on Talia’s father. Erin was a tall, pretty blonde with strong arms and a gentle heart, and she wasted no time talking about what she called “the showdown” in front of the police station.
Talia was shocked by the news, and saddened to learn that the man she’d once thought would be her father-in-law had been murdered. Then the reality of what that meant hit her. The family would gather. There would be constant turmoil until the killer was found. And knowing that family like she did, she was sure Bowie Youngblood was already on his way home.
It had been over seven years since she’d refused his marriage proposal and ended the joy in her life. It made her stomach hurt just thinking about seeing him again, even from a distance.
She glanced in on her father, grateful Erin was there tending to him for now, and decided to take a quick break. She poured herself a glass of sweet tea and went out on the back porch for a breath of air. After his years of suffering, her father’s Alzheimer’s was finally taking him down. As she sat, she thought back to the night she’d learned her father’s fate, and then leaned back and closed her eyes, remembering what else that realization had meant to her world.
* * *
Talia was dividing the last of her birthday cake for their dessert that night and thinking to herself that nineteen didn’t feel any older than eighteen, when her daddy came in the back door from work.
“Hi, Dad,” she said.
“Hi, baby, did you have a good day?” he asked, as he hung his cap and work coat on the rack by the back door.
“I guess. I did laundry all day,” she said, and then smiled.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
She was wondering what she’d done that had upset him as she took a seat at the kitchen table, and then she looked at his face. There were tears in his eyes.
She started to panic; even before she asked, she knew it had to be bad. Daddy never cried.
“Daddy? What’s wrong?”
He reached for her hands and held them—almost as if he needed her strength to say what had to be said.
“I’m sick, girl. And I’m not gonna get better. In fact, it’s gonna get worse, much worse. I wish to God it wasn’t happening. I am so sorry this burden has fallen on you.”
From the moment she’d heard him say I’m sick, she’d been shaking.
“What’s wrong, Daddy? What is it?”
Marshall Champion shuddered. What he was about to say was terrifying, and saying the words aloud would validate the truth of what he aleady knew.
“I have Alzheimer’s disease. The doctor reckons I’ve had it for a couple of years now.”
Talia gasped. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t make a sound. She looked at her father as if seeing him for the first time and was afraid—afraid of what he would become.
He kept talking.
“I’ve got my pension coming from the railroad, and I’ll start drawing my Social Security this year, but today was my last day at the gas station. I’m making too many mistakes. I reckon what’s coming in will be enough to put me somewhere when the need comes, but I’ll have to depend on you to do all that, and I’m so sorry.”
Now Talia was holding on to her father’s hands in desperation. Life had been so perfect. She and Bowie were finally out of high school and getting ready to go away to college together. She was already toying with the idea of being his wife for the rest of their lives. She had to talk now. Please, God, let it make sense.
“It’s not your fault, Daddy, and of course I’ll be here for you. Don’t ever apologize about this to me again, okay?”
Marshall nodded as the tears rolled down his face.
“You are a good girl, honey.”
She took a deep, painful breath and smiled around the heartache.
&n
bsp; “You are a good father. I’ve been blessed.”
Marshall nodded, then turned her loose, patted her hands and stood up.
“Well, now, I’m glad it’s been said. I’ll make supper tonight, okay?”
“I’ve already got it going,” she said. “Just go wash up. It should be done in about thirty minutes.”
Her hands were shaking as she watched him leave the room. Still reeling from the news, she began grasping at straws, trying to figure out how to make this work and still have her life with Bowie. Her thoughts were chaotic as she reached for her laptop.
She’d been researching colleges, and now she began researching nursing homes instead, checking them for costs and levels of care. It didn’t take long to learn that not every nursing home would even take Alzheimer’s patients, and the ones that did were nowhere near Eden and unbelievably expensive. She was beginning to research nursing homes that took Medicare and Medicaid patients when she heard the shower turn off.
Her dad would be back soon, expecting supper on the table, so she shut down the laptop and got up to finish the meal.
They ate in near silence, both of them uncertain how to have a normal conversation when the rawness of a death sentence was still on the table.
The next few days passed slowly as the shock wore off. Talia spent every free moment on the computer or the phone, looking into different facilities with increasing dejection. The longer she searched, the more obvious the answer became. With no insurance and not nearly enough money for care, she had no other option but to take care of Daddy at home.
The night Bowie got down on his knee and offered her the world, she turned him down.
She gave up the love of her life for the man who’d given her life.
* * *
When the dog next door began to bark, Talia turned loose of the memory and opened her eyes. Lengthening shadows were a precursor to nightfall. Nearly one more day behind them. She and her father had ridden this hell together, and it was finally coming to an end.
While the disease had destroyed her father both physically and mentally, it had taken a toll on her, too. She had no future, no hope for one, and no plans for what she would do after his imminent death. She was so used up that she just wanted to sleep until she either woke up or she didn’t.
She thought about Bowie again, letting her mind wander to the possible scenarios where they might meet. He would likely be here far longer than the usual brief trip home at Christmas. During those trips he always spent all his time at home on the mountain, and even though she’d known he was up there, she’d never had a fear of running into him after she’d moved herself and her father into town. Bowie didn’t hang out in town, and she no longer had any reason to be up on the mountain.
It hurt to think about what she’d done to him. It made her sick to her stomach, and she often lost sleep thinking about what might have been. But this news about his father’s murder changed her anonymous existence. What would she do if they came face-to-face?
The gentle sway of the porch swing was soothing, and while she couldn’t hear what Erin was saying to her father, she could hear the murmur of her voice. Marshall had long since lost the ability to communicate, but it didn’t deter Erin. She was all about spreading light and love to all of her patients, whether they could answer her or not.
It was less than an hour away from nightfall when Talia began hearing the distinct sounds of an approaching helicopter. Living so close to the hospital, it wasn’t unusual, but it always gave her the urge to say a prayer knowing someone was in crisis. She’d watched plenty of times as patients from the hospital were wheeled out to the helipad and loaded into the Life-Flight choppers.
Curious as to what was happening now, she got up and moved to the edge of the porch. It wasn’t like she would be able to see who they were picking up, but she could say a prayer for safe travels.
It wasn’t until the chopper began landing that she realized it wasn’t from Life-Flight. She squinted, trying to read the logo on the side, but she couldn’t. Then the door opened on the passenger side, and when she saw an oil company logo, her heart skipped a beat. When two very long denim-clad legs suddenly appeared below the door, she shivered. She couldn’t see his face, but she didn’t have to.
It was Bowie!
Then she saw people getting out of several cars parked on the street in front of the hospital, and when they all began walking toward the helipad, she knew they must be some of his family. A moment later she recognized his mother, and then his brothers. She watched Bowie duck beneath the rotors as he headed toward them. The sight of him after all these years hurt her heart. Unwilling to torture herself any longer, she went back inside as his family welcomed him home.
* * *
Bowie looked out the window as the chopper was landing. He could see his brothers in their cars looking up through their windshields. Coming home because of a death in the family had been the farthest thing from his mind when he woke up this morning, and yet here he was, about to face the truth.
The moment the pilot was down he thanked him, removed the headset and got out. He stopped to grab his duffel bag, and when he turned around, his mother was coming toward him.
* * *
Leigh felt like she was in a living nightmare. She knew that was her son, but it was like looking at Stanton. She swallowed past the knot in her throat and kept moving.
The downdraft from the rotors was whipping her hair to the point that the ribbon she’d tied it back with came undone and blew away. Now all of her hair was windblown and flying about her face, while the blast flattened her dress to her body, outlining her long legs and slender torso.
Bowie couldn’t see her expression, but his heart was pounding so hard it hurt to breathe. Facing her was going to be the worst. He knew the loss of their father was an amputation of part of herself. The chopper was already in the air and leaving as Bowie dropped his duffel bag and caught her on the run, hugging her close.
“Mama, I am so sorry,” he said.
Leigh shuddered as her fingers dug into his forearms.
“He’s gone, Bowie. They killed him.”
Tears were running down his face.
“I know, Mama, but we’ll figure it out together, just like we always do, right?”
And then they were surrounded by his brothers hugging him and crying, and then hugging him some more.
Leigh stood aside and watched.
As children they’d been like a litter of playful puppies. As teenagers they had bonded in a way not all brothers can. And now they were together again, gathered in grief.
Oh, Stanton. Look at them. Look at what we made with our love. They are all I have left of you, but they don’t belong with me. How do I learn to live without you and still take care of Jesse on my own?
* * *
When they started home, Bowie sat in the backseat with his mother, giving Jesse the front seat beside Samuel. He took his lead from her, and when she immediately clutched his hand as they drove away, he held on tight, sensing her need for an anchor.
Jesse kept up a running list of questions for Samuel, which left Bowie and Leigh able to sit in comfortable silence. Once he glanced over at her and saw tears running down her face. He undid his seat belt, slid his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She leaned into the curve of his body and closed her eyes. She hadn’t stopped crying, but it didn’t matter anymore. She wasn’t crying on her own.
Halfway up the mountain Samuel turned on the headlights, piercing the growing darkness as they went higher and higher, until he tapped the brakes and turned up the driveway leading to the family home. When the headlights swept across the front yard, it was obvious there were more people there than when they’d left.
“Who’s here?” Jesse asked.
Samuel patted his brother on the leg.
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br /> “I don’t know, Jesse. How about we go see?”
“Yes,” Jesse said, and got out, but then, when he would have run toward the porch, he stopped and went back to open the door for his mother. “Good manners, right, Mama?”
Leigh touched his cheek.
“Yes, son, good manners always matter.”
Bowie shouldered his duffel bag and steadied his mother’s steps as they climbed the stairs and went inside.
The ongoing conversation instantly stopped as they walked in, and then started up again as everyone stood up to welcome Bowie home.
He saw his Aunt Polly and Uncle Thomas and their spouses, a good half-dozen cousins about his age, and the preacher from the family church. He glanced at his mother to see if she was upset by all this chaos, but she’d turned into the perfect hostess, and was quietly seeing to everyone’s comfort and talking to her daughters-in-law about food.
When Leigh saw all the food from family and friends it seemed to settle her concerns. Home was familiar. Home and family were the comfort she would need tonight.
It wasn’t long before she picked up her grandson, Johnny, and began carrying him around on her hip like she’d done when her own boys were small, taking comfort in being able to meet his simple needs. When Bella and Maura announced dinner was ready, Leigh went into the kitchen with Johnny to get him fed first. Leslie already had a plate filled with things he would eat. Leigh asked if she could feed him, and Leslie quickly found them a seat in the kitchen and left them on their own.
Bowie was thinking Johnny had been a baby in arms when he’d seen him last, and now he was walking and saying words.
But while Johnny was eating well, he noticed his mother wasn’t. Her plate was untouched. He understood her lack of appetite, but he didn’t want her to faint on them later, so he brought her a piece of cake and sweet iced tea.
“Thank you, son, but I’m not hungry,” she said.
“Just a few bites,” he said, and walked away.
Later, he noticed she’d drunk the tea and some of the cake was gone, too.
He went back into the living room with a piece of pie and a refill of his own iced tea, found a chair out of the way and let the conversation roll over him while trying not to think of why they were all there.
