Claire
AFTER EXPLAINING WHY Jackson felt the need to call in the troops, everyone has an opinion. And like assholes, they stink!
“Well let’s burn it then,” Suzie responds.
“Fuck that, let’s read it!” Zoey says.
“Fuck it. Let’s shred it and then burn the fucker.” Sasha suggests.
“Sash! Language!”
“Seriously? I’m just verbalizing what you’re thinking.” Sasha gets up, grabs some kindling, and walks down the deck and over to the fire pit that sits to the right of the house.
Seeing my child defend my choices amazes me. Sasha amazes me. This precious soul and I grew up together, and she is me! All sass, brass, and balls to the walls. No bullshit and all fuck you, thank you very much!
Dumping the kindling into the pit, she grabs a lighter from her back pocket and proceeds to light a fire. Dumping way too much lighter fluid onto the wood.
Suzie pipes in and says, “Sasha. I think that might be too much.”
The whoosh of flame erupting from the pit buries the rest of Suzie’s statement, knocks Sasha back on her ass, and has Zoey laughing her ass off. I’m up and out of my chair and down the steps just as Sasha is picking herself up off the ground. “Sasha? Sash? Baby? You okay?”
Dusting dirt off of her designer jeans, which I know I didn’t pay for, she says, “I’m good.”
I look at my child, making sure that she is indeed okay, and the bubbles of laughter filter up, causing me to snort.
Stomping her foot, Sasha yells, “It’s not funny! I think I melted my eyebrows off!”
“Yes, baby, I think you did too.” I say, falling to my knees and laughing even harder.
MY GIRLS AND I are all sitting around the fire pit, that I dug myself, just talking about babies, men, sex and life in general when Ben, Derrick, and Jackson walk through the back gate.
“If y’all are here, who has the kids?” I ask.
“Suz’s mom.” Ben says as though it’s obvious, and he and Derrick break off and go to their wives. Jackson stops to kiss Sasha on the forehead, mentions something about her eyebrows that has me laughing again, and strides over to me and kisses me breathless.
As always with Jackson, I melt. Finally coming back to reality, I push him away and look around at my family. Every eye, all five pairs, are on Jackson and me. “What,” I say defensively.
Zoey leans over from her chair and grabs my hand. “I’ve never seen you this happy. I like it.”
Uncomfortable with the attention, I huff out, “Why are you all here?”
“Because we have a Nordic burial that needs to take place.”
“Derrick, you’re an idiot. Nordic burials take place on the water.”
“Yes, I’m fully aware of that, Claire. But they also involve fire, and we have one hell of a fire going. Ask Sasha, she was kissed by it. I guess now we basically have two burials tonight.” He snickers.
Rolling my eyes at the group in general, I start to rise up out of the chair I have been sitting in. “Y’all have lost your minds. You need to go home.”
“I kind of like the idea, Mom.” Sasha’s voice stops me.
“Me too. I think that it could be good for you,” comes from Jackson.
“If it will bring you peace, Claire. Go for it.” Is Ben’s opinion.
I look over at my sister, who has remained unusually quiet for her. “Zoey? What do you think?”
Opening then closing her mouth, Zoey imitates a guppy once, twice, three more times, before she takes a deep breath and pushes on. “I think that you need to find closure for yourself. One that works for you. You’ve been angry for so long, Claire. All I want is for you to find the peace that you deserve.”
“Thank you. And you’re right. I have been angry for a really long time. At some point, I’ll tell you the whole of it. But for now, right this minute, I really, really want to throw another log on that fire and burn Mac’s letter. I realized last night that I don’t need his words to know that I’m a good person. The only people’s opinion of me that matters are sitting right here.”
Zoey shrugs and seems to come to an impasse. “I tend to forget that my heart and compassion comes from what you taught me, not what we were shown from Momma and Daddy. My ability to forgive works for me.”
Derrick wraps his arm around her shoulder and places a kiss on her head. It seems to give her the strength to finish what she has to say. “They weren’t good parents to you, or to me for that matter. But Daddy liked the attention he got when I was around, and that made things different for us.” Looking over at Sasha and then to me, she seems hesitant to proceed but does. “They were neglectful on the best of days, but when you got pregnant, they became enraged at you for being so, so impertinent.” She takes a breath before continuing. “‘How dare she sully the Applebee name,’” Zoey says in the perfect tone and timber of our mother. It’s so spot on I shiver. “Not the McEvoy name, the Applebee name.” Defeated, Zoey looks up at her husband and sighs. “Fuck it. Let’s burn the bitch.”
“Well, okay then. Mom? Let’s get this Nordic burial underway.”
Sasha’s words have everyone laughing and it isn’t until Jackson places the letter in my lap that I realize he had left my side. “It’s all you, Legs.” He reaches a hand out to me. The man who has brought so much light into my life, pulls me out of the darkened night once more. With a quick kiss to my forehead, he pats my ass, which I like, a lot, and walks over to the pit with me.
At my hesitation, Jackson whispers, “You got this, baby. We’re here for you.”
His words give me the strength to rid myself of the letter that has consumed me for the past twenty-four hours. If I’m honest with myself, it also gives me the courage to let go of all of the past hurt and anger I’ve been carrying around. Looking around the fire, I am grateful for the people surrounding it. Knowing that “family” has multiple meanings. Whether it is one created by blood, an emotional bond, or through friendship, family is what you make of it.
With a sense of peace that envelopes me, I look around at the people who make up my family. What we have created is the strongest of all because it is a combination of all three. We chose to be here for one another. We chose to fight for one another. The sudden and unexpected vision of Viggo Mortensen pops into my head and has me chuckling. I’m not talking the Viggo from Lord of the Rings. No, I’m talking about the sexy, controlling, Master Chief Viggo from G.I. Jane. Where he says, “We don’t leave a man behind.” Well we don’t leave any man behind. If one of us is hurt or tired, we let the others carry the load for a bit until we are able to carry it for ourselves once more.
With a glance to my girls and then Jackson, I know that I am not being left behind. The future is scary and uncertain, but with these strong, proud, kind and loving individuals in my life, I’m going to be just fine.
Taking a deep breath in through my nose, like I’ve been taught in my yoga classes, I envision the invisible line that links me to Mac, Jami, and even Brad. On my exhale, I toss the letter into the fire, and at the same time cut the line and the hold that they’ve had over me for years.
Feeling lighter, less angry at the world, and freer, I look to my champions in life. “Don’t the Nordics drink a toast to the dead?” I look over to Derrick. “I think I’m getting gipped here, Derrick.”
Getting to his feet, my brother-in-law says, “They were partial to vodka. I’m on it.”
“Oh, men after my own heart!”