Have Mercy

by Christina Lee

  “Just a heads-up. There’ll be a fireworks display tonight that we can mostly see from the farm if we’re facing the right way,” Kerry said, his voice a bit tight. “One of the reasons we wanted to get all of them inside.”

  “Do they get twitchy?” I asked, watching Phoebe and Hamlet rooting through the hay bales near the loft.

  He nodded. “Ainsley too. So we watch from the safety of our yard.”

  My shoulders relaxed. “Sounds perfect to me.”

  Fireworks weren’t my favorite thing either—same with other combat veterans I’d come across—so staying put suited me as well. As long as I had advance notice, I’d done okay with them, along with using the grounding techniques the social worker suggested to keep me rooted in reality.

  Once all the horses were secured and Ainsley said good night to Piper, I followed them behind the farmhouse, where I helped Kerry make a bonfire and Sienna brought out the ingredients for s’mores.

  “If only we had the fireflies too, we could recreate our summer in Long Island,” she said dreamily.

  “What’s so cool about them?” Kerry asked, handing us long sticks to put in the fire while I began pulling marshmallows out of the bag.

  “Are you kidding me?” Sienna replied before I even had time to think about it. “Their lights flicker all around you in the dark. It’s like your own little star show.”

  “Ooooh.” Ainsley looked up at the sky as if imagining it.

  “Your stars out here are impressive enough.” I lifted my eyes as well. “No way you get this view in the city with all the pollution.”

  “You’ve got a point,” Kerry said. “But the way Sienna goes on about fireflies, you’d think they were some little miracle.”

  “I do not.” She whacked him playfully. “Just a good childhood memory.”

  “Plus, the alliteration works well for our farm,” Kerry said, and we all laughed.

  “Guess you’ll just have to visit us out East to see them again,” I said as we placed our sticks in the fire. The last time was probably my father’s funeral, but it’d been such an emotional week, I could barely remember any of it.

  “Maybe so,” Sienna said, glancing uneasily in her daughter’s direction, and I wondered if she was an anxious traveler or something else was going on with her.

  Once our marshmallows were properly toasted, I smooshed Ainsley’s a little too emphatically between two graham crackers, but she didn’t seem to mind the messiness as she dug right in, chocolate smearing around the corners of her mouth. When she declared me the ultimate s’more maker, I pretended to gloat, and Kerry laughed. My stomach felt all strange when his eyes landed on mine and softened. God, I needed to get over this attraction.

  The start of the fireworks display made me jump, Ainsley too, and she scooted to the security of her daddy’s lap. But I was able to stay planted in the present and breathe through the crackling and banging noises, managing to enjoy the brilliant colors in the sky. Popping another marshmallow in my mouth and slowly chewing to make me focus on the here and now helped too, as well as Sienna scooting her seat over to mine and explaining how they’re shot off from Snow King Mountain in Jackson Hole.

  Had they asked me to attend the large gathering in the national park, I would’ve undoubtedly passed. And by the looks of it, Ainsley would’ve too. So at least I had a kindred spirit in her.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad when they were over, and the lingering buzzing in my ears didn’t help either. I thought Kerry might’ve figured it out because he patted my shoulder in sympathy right after the finale.

  Sunday afternoon I waited outside on the porch swing for us to head over to the Carmichael Ranch.

  If Sienna and Kerry were still married, I might’ve felt like a third wheel—or maybe a fourth wheel was a better description? Like I was intruding on their ready-made family plans. But not after what Kerry had shared with me in the barn yesterday morning.

  “I might’ve come out, but that doesn’t mean I can freely express myself, not after I ruined so many things.”

  Damn, that was some heavy shit he was keeping inside. And if anything, I swore to at least become someone he could feel free around. We didn’t get a chance to speak on it any further, and I wasn’t sure if he knew what I was hinting at when I told him I understood. I was hoping for a follow-up conversation soon because it was becoming more and more evident that he was feeling pretty shitty about himself and could use a friend. So maybe Mom had been right all along.

  I stood up to stretch, my eyes scanning the horizon toward the Carmichael Ranch. I felt a bit nervous about dinner, to be honest. It was silly because I knew the family well enough, even if it had been years. Besides, Mom would want a full report. We’d planned a phone call this evening since we’d barely been able to connect all week.

  Mom hadn’t seen the family in ages either, and her stance had cooled toward them in recent years, especially for giving Kerry the cold shoulder after he came out. Although maybe it would’ve been an easier pill to swallow had he not been married with a child.

  Or maybe not.

  At least Aunt Maggie had come around after Ainsley had gotten sick. In fact, she had been to the farm last weekend to drive Ainsley to a horse show. She had invited me to tag along, but I begged off. Besides, Ainsley was still a bit wary around me and was mostly tied to Sienna’s hip. But as long as I kept the conversation playful, she seemed to relax pretty easily.

  Once they’d returned from the horse show, Aunt Maggie and I spent some time catching up. She had been divorced from Sienna’s father for about eight years, if my memory served me right, so it would’ve been hard to see her own daughter experience similar heartache. But whereas Sienna’s dad was now remarried and living in another state, Kerry had stuck around. From what I witnessed, Aunt Maggie seemed to get on well with him, and she’d watched fondly as Ainsley skipped off with Kerry to collect eggs from the chicken coop. She knew deep down he was a good man. She just needed time, and maybe they all did. Not that it was any of my business. But it was hard not to be curious when I’d be around them all summer. This was sure to be only one of many Carmichael family dinners.

  When I heard the screen door spring open behind me, I whirled around as if they’d been able to hear my thoughts. Ridiculous.

  “Let’s go,” Sienna said, and we piled into the truck and rode over to the Carmichael Ranch, which was right next door but seemed miles away.

  Kerry parked in the turnaround, and Ainsley was the first out of the car, excited to see her grandparents, no doubt. They had come out on the porch to greet us. Apparently, that was a thing people did in small towns. Go figure.

  Kerry wore what looked like a forced smile as he walked toward the porch with Sienna and me following behind.

  “You just keep on growing, little lady,” Mrs. Carmichael said as she bent down to accept the kiss on the cheek from her granddaughter.

  “Doesn’t she?” Sienna replied, placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and smiling. “Before you know it, she’ll be taller than the both of us.”

  Kerry bent forward to kiss his mom’s cheeks, then turned almost reluctantly to his dad. I had expected at least an uncomfortable shoulder pat or something between the men, but nothing of the sort happened as they merely stared each other down.

  “Uh, you remember Julian,” Sienna said as if she was their buffer. “Aunt Melinda’s son?”

  “Been a few years,” Mr. Carmichael said, stepping forward and shaking my hand. “Thanks for your service to this country.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.” I could see the respect shining in his eyes. It was a sentiment soldiers got often, and most of us appreciated it because it was definitely better than being forgotten.

  A memory of Smithy spouting off on one of our patrols suddenly came to mind. “Yeah, we signed up for this, but nobody wants to hear all the nitty-gritty details and how soldiers suffer after deployment. They jus’ wanna pat us on the back and call us honorable.”
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  My eyesight blurred, and suddenly I was in the mountains, traipsing along rougher terrain. I could feel rocks digging into the worn soles of my boots and hear the way Smithy enunciated his s’s, which I’d never be able to make fun of again.

  “Hey.” I felt a strong grip on my elbow and heard a voice in my ear that belonged to Kerry. “You okay?”

  It was the exact thing I needed to snap me out of it, and before I could make a bigger fool of myself in front of Mr. Carmichael, who looked a bit confused, two guys taller than me swept onto the porch to greet us. They were Kerry’s younger brothers, but I couldn’t recall their names.

  Thankfully Kerry helped out again. “Julian, these are my brothers, Travis and Hunter.”

  As I shook their hands, I noted they were both handsome guys, and don’t even get me started on the muscles in all the right places. But Kerry was the better-looking, more rugged of the bunch. Stereotypes be damned.

  Whereas Hunter seemed impressed by my years in service, Travis was the more amicable of Kerry’s brothers, asking about my work on the silo and my stay at the farm. As his parents pointed out parts of their ranch to me—mostly what was new since I last visited, like new housing for the cattle—Hunter explained their operation in more detail while Travis joked with Kerry. I was relieved for Kerry, that there was at least one member of the family who had broken through all the tension, and now I wondered if they’d been closer their entire lives. I knew Kerry was the oldest, but that didn’t mean the younger two had a better relationship.

  Travis’s wife and kids came out to greet us, and after the introductions and a walk-through of one of the new barns, we headed inside to eat.

  Mrs. Carmichael patted my arm as she motioned for me to take a seat at the long table. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I noted the meat and vegetables and biscuits in the center, to be served family-style.

  Dinner was a bit chaotic. People talked over each other about the cattle trade, and a couple of neighbors dropped by unannounced, haggling about the cost of this or that, so they must’ve run a nearby ranch. The food was damned good, though, so I dug into the pot roast, my mouth full half the time as I tried to keep track of the main conversation, which was interesting but way out of my wheelhouse.

  Kerry’s attention seemed trained on his mother’s discussion with Sienna about their daughter instead of what the other men were discussing, and that made me feel out of sorts. He wasn’t included in any of the conversations about the business, not even to ask his opinion. In fact, he was largely ignored unless it was to ask him to pass one dish or another.

  He might not have worked on the ranch anymore, but he was the owner of a farm in this community, and probably had something useful to offer. But the more I watched, the more I wondered if he preferred it that way. To remain invisible. His body language sure made it seem that way, as he sat angled toward his mother and ex-wife, his shoulders bunched, his forehead wrinkled. When our gazes met across the table, he would nod or offer a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It was as if he wished he could be anywhere else in the world, and if you looked closely enough, he seemed to be coming apart at the seams. It made me wish we’d been sitting next to each other so I could engage him in conversation to help him get through this.

  Ainsley was eating at the kids’ table with Travis’s children and some random kids who might’ve been neighbors, and she seemed comfortable enough, even though her gaze kept sweeping to her parents as if she was checking to make sure they were still in the other room.

  Once our plates were cleared, Ainsley ran off to play outside with her cousins as the adults moved to the veranda for dessert. A breeze kicked up as dusk moved across the horizon, and I couldn’t help appreciating the beauty of the landscape.

  I was asked general questions about my time in service as well as living in the city as Mrs. Carmichael handed me a slice of her apparently famous salted honey pie.

  “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” I remarked after my first bite, and she beamed, which I found endearing.

  “Be careful,” Travis said. “She’s liable to try fattening you up too.”

  “Hush,” his mother said, pink dotting her cheeks. “I like to feed all my boys.”

  They murmured in agreement, and when her gaze swept toward Kerry, her eyes softened. I got a lump in my throat as I witnessed some little moment passing between them, almost like she was offering her own olive branch. Or maybe she already had and was making sure he knew it. I looked away because I felt like I was intruding, then got roped into a conversation with one of the neighbors, who asked me about the silo project.

  Christ, all the food was delicious, but I was full and exhausted from all the people and conversations, so when Kerry motioned to leave a couple of hours later, I was ready.

  I said my goodbyes and walked toward the truck with Kerry, who seemed eager to leave, and I could imagine why. He signaled to Sienna, and she walked over to the pasture to corral Ainsley, who looked to be playing tag or some other game where the kids chased each other. She looked tired and happy, which I imagined as a parent who’d been through the worst with her was heartening to see.

  When a shiny, red pickup pulled into the driveway, I felt Kerry momentarily stiffen. A guy with blond hair that curled beneath his cowboy hat stepped out, and it struck me right then that I was the only guy not wearing one. There were times I still donned my favorite camouflage cap—or cover, as we called it in the service—because it was habit and nicely broken in, but it certainly separated me from these cowboys. Unless I was mistaken, the idea was to keep the sun from scorching their heads while rounding up cattle, but right then it was like a scene from some gay cowboy porn. I’d have to remember that revelation for the next time I spoke to Caitlin.

  Sienna approached the man’s car, a blush crawling across her cheeks as they grinned at each other and talked near his vehicle.

  I couldn’t help asking, “Who is that?”

  “The guy Sienna should’ve married instead of me,” Kerry said under his breath.

  “Huh?” I wanted to make sure I heard him right, but I had the feeling he didn’t expect me to grasp his meaning because he shook his head and mumbled, “Never mind.”

  I stood there awkwardly, watching them…flirt—flirt would definitely be the word—until Kerry cleared his throat. “That’s, uh, Brad McGuire. Went to school with us and works for my father.”

  “Ah, so old friends,” I said, trying to make eye contact, but he wasn’t going for it.

  Instead, he glanced behind us to watch his daughter as he said, “Somethin’ like that.”

  Sienna bounded toward me to make a quick introduction.

  “Nice to meet you,” Brad said to me, then looked at the man standing stoically beside me. “Kerry.”

  Okay, what was I missing here?

  “Gonna stay for a while longer,” Sienna said, clearing her throat. “So Ainsley can play with her cousins a bit?”

  “No worries,” Kerry said, making his way to the driver’s side door. “I can pick you up later.”

  “Brad will drive us home,” she said, then glanced at me. “You’re welcome to stay.”

  I felt torn. Not because I wanted to stay, because I absolutely didn’t. But because I increasingly felt like Kerry was the odd man out in this whole family-dinner scenario, and I wanted to show him he wasn’t alone.

  “I’m gonna head back if that’s okay.” I walked to the passenger side door. “I promised my mom a phone call.”

  It was quiet as we drove from the ranch to the farm, and I wanted to ask so many things, but I was getting a certain energy from Kerry that told me to hold back. Like he was shuttering himself away in a neat, compact box, and I wondered when he’d gotten so good at it; if it was due to recent events or something he’d perfected over the years.

  Once we were out of the truck, the pigs bounded toward us, covered in dirt, so they obviously found something to roll in.

 
“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, then somethin’ to eat.”

  “Kerry,” I said in a weak voice, grasping for something to say as he walked toward the barn and likely a hose. But then I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Damn it. Mom was calling. I considered telling her I needed a few minutes, then thought better of it.

  Maybe I’d give Kerry time to cool off, or think, or whatever the hell he needed, and then I’d see if he wanted to crack open a beer on the porch and shoot the breeze.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said, walking down the hall to my room. “Just getting home from the Carmichael Ranch, where I was invited to dinner.”

  “Interesting. How was that?”

  “Well, let’s see…” I kicked out of my shoes and briefly watched out the window as Kerry corralled the pigs and a couple of goats who had followed him out of the barn. He didn’t seem to mind, rubbing under their chins and saying stuff to them I couldn’t make out. Animals were apparently a therapy all their own. “The Carmichaels certainly love their grandkids and dote on them.”

  As I lay back on my bed, I realized how freaking tired I was. And tomorrow was another week of work. Was it strange to admit I was looking forward to it? Of course I did. The pace didn’t give me much time to think, just the way I liked it.

  “No question,” Mom replied. “Maggie too.”

  “Tell me again,” I said, suddenly recalling the dinner and all the awkward moments, “what was the family’s reaction to Kerry’s coming out?”

  “Everyone was upset about the divorce,” she said, then paused. “And, well, I suppose if you’re going to come out, a small town in Wyoming where practically everyone knows your name is not the best scenario.”

  “Yeah, I hear you. Would suck.”

  “Apparently, Mr. Carmichael took it the hardest. Kerry’s their firstborn, and he had big ideas for him.” I winced. Fuck, so much pressure. “Mrs. Carmichael and one of the brothers…”

  “Travis?” I somehow knew where she was going with this.

  “Yes, Travis. The two of them have acted as buffers, so to speak. And the other brother sympathizes with the father.”