by Connor Mccoy
Liam looked over at Camilla and his mother. Both women sported fully gray hair, though to Liam’s surprise, Camilla had aged faster than his mother. She had carried the burden of helping his father during his cancer surgery and recovery, and was the only one out of the household who knew how dire his father’s condition had become. Conrad had entrusted her with perhaps more than anyone else in his life. As far as Camilla was concerned, the two of them were indeed married in heart, even if they had never taken formal vows verbally.
Sadly, a piece of Camilla had died along with Conrad. Even though Liam saw Camilla smile many more times afterward, he never saw the blazing fire in her eyes again. She devoted herself to being a doting grandmother to Liam’s kids, but she never tried to pursue love again.
Liam glanced down at his father’s gravestone under the tree, then to the dirt next to it. Camilla wanted to be buried there. Liam readily agreed. But, as he often told her, don’t drive yourself to an early grave. Camilla would nod silently and sadly, but the sight of one of Liam’s children quickly would brighten her mood. She seemed now to live for them.
Captain Deaden had proved true to her word. The ALA permitted them to stay at the homestead and work the land, provided they turned over forty percent of their overall produce, dairy and livestock to the army. Additionally, the ranch never was menaced by bandits or madmen. Liam and Carla raised their children in peace.
Even so, the years were not without sacrifice, and even loss. One man would not be here today. Ronald Darber had found happiness with his girlfriend Tara, who reunited with the doctor while he visited Captain Deaden’s refugee camp. The doctor never forgot his professional duty, and worked hard for the survivors in Deaden’s care. But the years and hard work had caught up with him, and last year he had passed after a serious illness.
Liam looked up at the sky. News about the outside world was picking up again. Rumors abounded that some kind of government was reemerging, this time in the South. Was it benevolent or oppressive? No one could be entirely sure. It was simply another challenge of this new world.
“We got more visitors!” Tom pointed to the house. Lance Wilkins with his wife Tracy and three kids were rushing across the field to join them.
Liam blinked his eyes. So, he has three now? Oh yeah, you were in town when his daughter was born. To his surprise, she was tall, coming up to Lance’s upper chest. Damn, time really is passing by.
But the Wilkins family wasn’t alone. Nigel Crane, along with a small party, approached the hill as well. It was likely the whole group, Lance and his family included, journeyed from Hooper City.
“Hello!” Nigel called as he approached. The retired town leader walked much more slowly, with his almost total baldness evidencing his advancing age. Jeff and Reg, also with gray in their hair, followed close behind.
“Well, I didn’t expect this kind of turnout!” Liam reached out and took Nigel’s hand when he got close.
Nigel nodded. “Well, we’re all getting up there. Nowadays when we’re not working, we’re trying to keep in touch with family and friends.”
“So, how is the new council going?” Liam asked.
“Excited.” Nigel shook his head. “Three years to build those solar panels and the new wiring across town, and they think they can bring back cable television.”
Reg poked Lance in the ribs. “I’ll just settle for some of this man’s ice cream.” Lance chuckled.
Liam did a quick count of the crowd around the tree. It had grown to almost thirty. Would more show up?
“I also had something special I wanted to bring along.” Nigel held out his hand. Jeff took the cue and handed him a glass bottle.
Liam read the label. It was a bottle of Texas bourbon. “It’s dad’s favorite,” Liam said softly. The brand was exactly the same as the bottle from which his dad had drank eighteen years ago.
“Took me years to find another bottle,” Nigel said. “Damn shame I couldn’t get this to him when he still was living.”
Lance offered Liam a glass. Nigel popped the cork, then poured a drink for Liam before pouring one for himself. Jeff quickly poured another glass for Tom, who waited with an outstretched hand.
Nigel and Tom clinked their glasses against Liam’s. “To a good friend, and a magnificent father,” Nigel said.
“To the craziest son of a bitch I ever met,” Tom added. “To the man who changed my life in ways I’ll never be able to count.”
Liam smiled. “To Dad.” He was about to put the drink to his lips, but he noticed Nigel wasn’t drinking. Tom also stopped before his mouth touched the glass.
Nigel seemed to read the unspoken question in the two men’s minds and explained, “I figured the old man should have the first drink.”
Liam nodded. “He always did.”
The three men then tipped their glasses and poured their drinks onto the grass in the shadow of Conrad’s grave.
