Chapter Twenty-Nine
Braxton
“So is there anything to do in Sulphur Springs?” Jaimie asked me, a taunt in her voice. “Or do you live just out in the boons?”
“Well,” I said slowly, “it is a town of sixteen thousand—”
“So yes.”
We were seated together on an airplane flying over Texas, and we had about half an hour left in our flight. I had agreed not to go over to her house the night before so that we would have more time to pack and sleep. But Jaimie had slept fitfully and seemed unusually grumpy when I knocked on her door at seven am. She had spent the first leg of the trip trying to sleep in my seat, but had eventually given this up in favor of watching the sky through my window.
“Sulphur isn’t known for being a popular tourist destination, no,” I said with a touch of embarrassment. “Probably the only really interesting place to visit is my parents’ house. But we do have a dairy museum and a lake.”
“Ooo, exciting!” she said sarcastically.
“Of the two, I much prefer the lake.”
“I probably will, too.”
“When we were kids,” I added, “Mom and Dad used to take us to Imagination Mountain.”
“Is that as creepy as it sounds?”
“Almost. It’s a big playground in Coleman Park with a manmade waterfall, and when I was little, it seemed like the coolest place in the world. I sometimes wish I still loved anything as much as I loved that place. When we finished playing, we would go find Dad, and he would be grilling sausages and bratwurst and ribs and chicken and every other kind of meat you can eat. Here’s a thing you’ll have to understand about Texans: we eat a lot of meat.”
“Mmmm, can’t wait.” She went on gazing out the window, admiring the blue expanse over the cloud cover.
“I bet you’re glad not to be in Boulder for the weekend,” I said.
“I really am.” She yawned loudly and stretched her arms. “Now that I’m waking up, I’m really beginning to look forward to this trip. Ren texted me last night to ask if I wanted to hang out, but I told her I was too busy packing.”
“Are you sure you didn’t hurt her feelings?”
“She seemed fine.” Jaimie rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “I promised her we would celebrate next week when I got back.”
My brother Curtis was waiting for us at baggage claim, a thirty-something man with thinning hair and a muscular build. I supposed it was for the best that he was the first of the brothers to meet Jaimie: out of the five of us, he was the most affable and laid-back.
I slung Jaimie’s bag over my shoulder, and together we followed him out of the airport, through the warm parking lot to his truck.
“How are things back at home?” I asked him once we were on the road. “I talk to Mom at least once a week, but I haven’t heard from Dad in a while.”
“About the same as they were when you left. Dad finds little things to do around the house. He and Mom are talking about building a trellis in the backyard for the climbing plants. He still hasn’t gotten over Glen Campbell’s death.”
“Our family loves country music,” I explained to Jaimie. “It’s one of those things you’re just going to have to put up with.”
Turning back to Curtis, I added, “And how are the other brothers?”
“They’re all steadily getting paired off,” he replied, sounding slightly awed. “Darren was down here a few weeks ago. Natalie and Penny had a row because Penny overheard Natalie making fun of her behind her back, and of course, Allie got drawn into it. Words were exchanged.”
Much of this was incomprehensible to Jaimie, who looked at me imploringly. “Who’s Allie?” she asked. “Who’s Natalie?”
I realized I probably should have drawn her a chart before we left Boulder. “Allie is Curtis’s wife—they just recently got married. Natalie is one of Allie’s many friends from Dallas and the three of them sometimes go out drinking on the weekends. Penny is Darren’s fiancé.”
“And Darren is one of your brothers?”
“Yes, the dumb one, as we like to call him. Marshall likes to say that by the time Mom and Dad got around to making the two youngest boys, all the brains had been used up.”
Jaimie laughed. “I don’t guess they think too highly of you.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “They tolerate me.”
“So who is their favorite of all their sons?”
Curtis raised his hand quietly.
“Probably him,” I replied. “Him or Marshall, although I should note that he has only recently become popular within the family, since he became a millionaire.”
“Winning a million dollars does tend to increase one’s popularity,” said Jaimie. “I had an uncle that everyone hated until he won the lottery.”
“It’s annoying because Marshall is probably the laziest out of all of us, with the exception of Darren. Zack is a Navy SEAL and just returned from a stint in Libya. He described it as like being baked in an oven. He was so glad to come home.”
“And all of you are dating or married at this point?”
I nodded. “We are, although God only knows how that happened. Marshall is dating a cute baker and aspiring librarian in South Carolina, which somehow works. If you know Marshall, he’s a man who loves comfort, and she has a very calming presence. Zack’s got a girl up in Manhattan, an adventurous reporter, and Darren and Penny are about to get married.”
“And why does everyone hate Penny?”
“I wouldn’t say everyone—Mom loves her, for one. She just takes some getting used to.”
“She’s eccentric,” said Curtis. “Which is perfect for Darren. If we were sorting them into Hogwarts houses, Penny is a Ravenclaw, Lori—Marshall’s girlfriend—is a Hufflepuff, and Kelli and Allie are both Gryffindors.”
“God, no one cares, Curtis, you nerd,” I said in a teasing voice. “It’s been a joy to see our family multiplying over the past couple years. Mom is just so chuffed that she’s no longer the only woman in the family. She finally has somebody to talk to.”
Curtis turned on the radio and “Wagon Wheel” began playing. It was a version I didn’t recognize. “Did you know this started out as just a fragment of a Dylan song about forty years ago,” he said, “and then somebody came along and heard it and decided to add verses to the chorus? It takes balls to try to write a Dylan song.”
“Curtis loves music,” I explained to Jaimie, who didn’t know how to respond. “We’ve all got a weird hobby. Marshall’s is gambling, which has been fairly lucrative for him. Zac likes to read, even though he pretends he doesn’t. Darren fixes cars, although I sometimes think his real obsession is Penny.”
“God, yes,” Curtis groaned. “It’s so gross!”
“I’ve heard stories,” I said. “Apparently they just sit there at the dinner table flirting and kissing on each other like there’s nobody else in the room.”
“Though to be fair,” said Curtis, “Mom says she and Dad were like that when they first got married some forty years ago.”
“Mom and Dad are still like that!” I exclaimed. “It’s annoying.”
“And frankly we’re all sort of obsessed with our partners,” he added. “Allie is the only genuinely good thing to have happened to me in the past five years.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t want to say any more than that. The story of Curtis’s first marriage was his to tell if he wanted.
“And I’m sure the other boys would say the same thing.”
“They probably would. Zac and Marshall all seem sincerely happy with their partners. It’s almost weird, right? You’d think there would be at least one relationship that was shaky or in danger of breaking up.”
“But the gods have granted us success in our relationships,” said Curtis, grinning at himself in the rearview mirror. “Mama always said it would be thus.”
By now, we were approaching the outskirts of Sulphur Springs. On either side of us lay endless expanses of wheat fields only broken here and there by a gasoline station or the imposing silhouettes of oil machinery. There was a familiarity to the journey that was tinged with nostalgia. We passed empty tarmacs and chain-link fences, majestic ranch homes with long drives, and a field where cattle lay sunning in the noonday heat. One raised its head at us as we drove past, then lowered it again with a bored look.
“God, you can almost smell the odor of gasoline and old leather,” I said, “even from in here. Sometimes I really do miss Texas.”
“You ought to move home,” said Curtis. “It would do your heart good.”