Family Sins(81)

“When are we having the services?” Bowie asked.

“This coming Friday at 10:00 a.m.,” Leigh said. “I’ve already talked to our preacher. Services will be at our church on the mountain, but I’m burying him in the family cemetery here on the property. The Pharaoh twins will be here sometime in the next day or so to dig the grave.”

“And the family dinner afterward?” Leslie asked.

“I think I want it here,” Leigh said. “We can put the tables outside and set the food out all over the kitchen. People will come and go. It will be fine.”

“You could have it at the church and skip all the mess,” Samuel said.

“I know, but considering the fact that I’m going to bury my husband on this land that morning, I don’t want to go off and leave him alone. At least not so soon.”

The image of a new grave in the old cemetery hit all of them hard, and the silence that ensued was uneasy, except for Talia. She knew exactly what Leigh meant.

Talia had gone off and left her daddy at rest beside her mother only to come close to joining them hours later, and there was something she hadn’t told Bowie and probably never would. All during her drug-filled days and nights of sleep, her daddy had been with her in her dreams. A part of her attributed that to his recent passing, but there was also a part of her that wanted to believe his spirit had stayed behind with her, just like she’d stayed behind with him.

“Then we’ll have it here,” Bowie said. “Don’t worry about the logistics, Mama. We’ll make it happen.”

Leigh nodded without speaking, settling instead for looking at the beloved faces of the family she and Stanton had made.

We did good, she thought, and when Johnny toddled toward her begging to be picked up, she pulled him into her lap, buried her face in his soft baby curls and held him close.

Bowie kept a close eye on his mother, and one on his woman, as well. When he saw her put a hand on her ribs and wince, he knew she was hurting.

“Where are your pain pills?” he whispered.

“On the bedside table, and thank you.”

“Be right back,” he said, and kissed the side of her cheek.

Talia watched the sway of that long black braid against his back as he strode out of the room and wished they were in a bed somewhere making love.

He came back with a glass of iced tea and the pills, then sat back down before he handed them to her.

“Here you go, baby,” he said. “And whenever this all gets to be too much, just say the word and I’ll take you back to bed.”

She swallowed the pills with a sip of tea, and then handed him the glass. He took a drink, then set it aside and pulled her close.

It wasn’t long before Bowie noticed she was nodding. The pain pills were working. While everyone else was still talking, he picked her up and carried her out of the room.

As broken as Leigh felt about her life, there were no words for how happy she was for them. His absence from their family and the solitude of his single life had bothered her, but no longer.

When he came back, he stopped beside Leigh’s chair and laid a hand on her shoulder.

Both the span of his hand and the gentleness in his touch reminded her of Stanton. She looked up.

“Can I get you anything, Mama?” Bowie said.

“No, but thank you for asking.”

He picked up the tea glass and carried it back into the kitchen. The dishwasher was already running, so he rinsed it and set it aside. After a quick glance into the living room, he slipped out onto the back porch. Like Talia, he was weary of the day.

The drama that had ensued here after they’d seen the report had been its own storm. He’d seen shock, then resolution, on his mother’s face as they’d watched that first news report together. Only now, after learning about her part in it, did he fully understand what had led to those emotions.

He walked off the porch and out into the yard, then looked up. The sky was black, the stars brilliant points of light so very far away. Rationally he knew what he was looking at was little more than an echo of what had been, that the brilliance he was seeing was no longer a living fire, but tonight he accepted the heavenly light in simpler terms.

He remembered another night like this when he and his brothers were all little. They’d begged and begged to sleep out under the stars, until finally their mother relented. Then they spent hours making their camp, carrying quilts and pillows, dragging food, flashlights and finally a weapon apiece to fight off wild animals. He’d chosen a baseball bat, and then Jesse had cried because he didn’t have a weapon. Their mother had soothed the tears and given her baby the pick of anything from her drawer of spoons and spatulas. He’d chosen a little spatula she often used to fry eggs and come out ready for battle. They’d played until dark, eaten all their food, made countless trips back in the house to tell Mama and Daddy good-night and then, when all was said and done, had been too afraid to stay outside to sleep.

Looking back, he was certain his parents had been keeping a close eye on all five of them, because when Jesse and Aidan ran inside crying that a bear was going to eat them, their dad had been ready with his own sleeping bag and a gun.

He’d taken the two little ones back outside, moved all five bedrolls into a circle so that their heads would be touching in the middle, and tucked them all in. Then he’d unrolled his own sleeping bag, positioning it so that the boys were between him and the house. They slept then, confident that nothing could hurt them with Daddy on guard.