Chapter Twenty-Seven
Curtis
On Friday morning, I went over early to Mama’s house to eat breakfast with Zach. He would be leaving the following night, and we were trying to cram in as many hours together as we could before I had to drive him to the airport.
Allie and I still weren’t talking, and I hadn’t seen her in a couple of days.
“I don’t think she’s been coming home at night,” said Mama over a breakfast of blueberry pancakes with boysenberry honey, spinach omelets, warm, buttery biscuits, and homemade doughnuts. “I look out there every night before I go to bed, but her light’s out, and there’s no car in the driveway.”
“Better get ahold of your woman, man,” said Zach, reaching for the bear-shaped honey jar. “If she’s not getting the D at home, she’ll go where she can get it.”
Mama and I both glared at him.
“I’m sure it’s not like that,” I said, though the thought had occurred to me more than once. “I think she’s probably been staying with her friend for a couple of days.”
“Well, you’d better get it straightened out. I know even if I was angry at my partner, I’d be pissed if I went a couple of days without hearing from ‘em. Right now she’s probably over it and just waiting for you to reach out to her.”
“Have you tried texting her?” Mama asked.
“Yeah, a couple of times,” I said, a tone of irritation in my voice. “She hasn’t responded, for whatever reason.”
“Well, keep reaching out to her,” said Zach. “She may not seem like she appreciates it, but she does.”
“When your dad and I first met,” said Mama, “it didn’t take me long to figure out he was the one. I thought he felt the same way. But then one evening I was talking to Ernie Goodman down at the hardware store, and he told me your dad had said he could never marry me, without explaining why.
“I was heartbroken, of course, and I told him I didn’t want to see him again, not if he was gonna lead me on like that. He was bewildered, and it took him a while to figure out what was going on.
“End of the next week, he showed up at my doorstep in the pouring rain carrying a bouquet of flowers. He explained to me what he had really said to Ernie: he said he could never marry me because I was ‘too perfect’ and there was no way he could ever do right by me. But when I broke things off, he realized what a serious mistake he’d be making if he turned down his one chance at happiness. Right there, in the rain, on my front porch, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.”
Zach and I turned to each other, dumbstruck. “How come you ain’t never told us that story, Mama?”
Mama blushed and tittered. “Because it’s special,” she said quietly. “So anyway, just because she’s been gone for a couple days don’t mean it’s the end. It might mean there’s been a miscommunication, or maybe she wants you to go after her. Next time you see her, though, you’ll need to have a serious talk about where y’all are heading and what you want out of the relationship.”
***
Zach and I continued talking that afternoon as we sat in a rowboat on Shadow Creek Lake. Dad had been planning to come with us, but bowed out at the last minute, complaining of fatigue and a nasty headache. That left the two of us alone on either side of the boat drinking light beer and listening to Waylon Jennings on Zach’s phone.
“Listen, I know Mom can be hard to deal with sometimes,” said Zach. “I know she’s been after you for days to reconcile with Allie, I think because in her heart she took Allie’s side in the fight.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked, my shoulders tensing.
“Just some of the comments she’s made. I know Mama understands we have to kill if we wanna eat, but she’s taken after that woman like the daughter she never had. And I think she was personally affronted when you made fun of Allie for coming over all the time because it drove her away. Mama liked it when she came over.”
I threw up my hands in the air. “A man can’t say nothin’ right around here, can he? I’m surprised I wasn’t dragged before the law to atone for my words.”
“Don’t take it so personally,” said Zach. “There’s times in every man’s life when he’s tested, and this is just one of those tests.”
This was the thing about Zach: he had a reputation for being the most macho guy in our family. Yet he was also, in a lot of ways, the most sentimental. One afternoon when he thought nobody was home, I came into his room and caught him reading Eat, Pray, Love and crying.
“Anyway,” said Zach. “That’s the scary thing about life. What happens next is up to you. You can either hold onto your wounded pride and let the girl go, or you can go after her. Fight for her. Own up to your actions. I believe in you, man, and I think in time you’ll do the right thing, and it’ll work itself out.”
I thought about what he had said the rest of the way home. Our family’s ethic of personal responsibility was too deeply ingrained in me to ignore the problem for very long. I’d have to talk to her either tomorrow or the next day.
“She’s still not answering my texts,” I told him as we pulled into the driveway. “So if I see her car in front of the house tomorrow, I’m gonna go over there and see her.”
“You’d better do it quick,” said Zach, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Mama’s invited her to the going-away dinner tomorrow night, and if y’all haven’t settled this before then, she’s still invited, but we ain’t letting you come.”