Page 29 of Reckoning

Mariah watched Roger carefully wrapping the ice pack around Briar’s ankle and Tate sliding his arm beneath her daughter’s back to elevate her head long enough for her to swallow the pills.

Ignoring the watchful eyes of her parents, Tate eased her back on the pillows and brushed the hair away from her eyes. “You call any time you want to talk. Tomorrow is my day off. I’ll be home mowing the yard and doing stuff for Mom,” he said, then gave her hand a quick squeeze and walked out past her parents as if they weren’t there.

The sound of his footsteps faded as he went down the stairs, but he punctuated his exit by slamming the front door.

Mariah could have intervened now, but instead she sat in silence, watching Roger fussing about and getting a blanket for Briar. She knew it was her fault that her daughter had walked out on their evening meal, and this was the result of their argument. If she’d just kept her mouth shut, none of this would have happened. Action and consequence. Action and consequence, and Roger was scurrying around Briar like she’d been mortally wounded.

She wanted to intervene. She needed to regain control, but that didn’t seem possible.

“Briar, honey, I’m going to bring the rollator walker down from the attic. It’s the one I used after recuperating from my knee surgery, and it will be helpful to you getting up and down at night. Your phone is right here within reach. If you need us, all you have to do is call,” he said, and bolted out of the room.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?” Mariah asked.

“No,” Briar said, and closed her eyes.

Mariah sat, studying her daughter’s face as if she was a stranger, and when Roger came back with the walker and put it next to Briar’s bed within reach, she got up and went back downstairs, going from room to room, closing up the house as she did every night. But even as she was closing windows and locking doors, she knew there was no number of locks that would keep Briar and Tate apart. The chance to separate them years ago had come and gone. All she could do was hope fate did what she and Roger could not.

* * *

The next morning, Briar sent Tate a text.

Dad took me to ER this morning to get my ankle X-rayed to make sure nothing was broken. It’s just a bad sprain, and I’m icing and elevating and will have to wrap it once the swelling goes down to support the pulled muscles and tendons until they heal.

Thank you again for always coming to my rescue.

You are forever in my heart.

Love, Briar

Tate sighed when he read it. He could have told them it wasn’t broken, but his word was never going to be validation for them. He responded.

Do what the doctor said. The sooner you get better, the sooner I can see you again. I just finished mowing the yard. Going shopping for groceries for Mom as soon as I shower off. I miss your face.

Love,

Tate

For the next two weeks, phone calls and texts were their only connections, until Briar walked into Sparks Grocery.

* * *

Tate was unpacking a box of canned pinto beans, neatly stacking them on the proper shelf in between sacking groceries for customers, but he felt her before he saw her. He turned as she was walking toward him, pushing a shopping cart—limping slightly, but with a sparkle in her eyes lit only for him.

He stopped what he was doing to give her a quick hug.

“Look at you! On two feet again.”

The sparkle in her eyes was now almost as bright as the blush on her cheeks. “I don’t mean to bother you at work. I’m actually here to get groceries for me and Dad. Mom and Dad had an hour-long scream fest after I went to bed last night. She left in a snit this morning with a suitcase. Didn’t bother to even tell me she was leaving. I asked Dad if they were getting a divorce. All he said was, ‘I wish,’ and went to work. So, I’m here to get stuff so we can feed ourselves for a few days. I’m pretending I don’t care that she walked off without a word, but it sure brought back memories of the day she left me in the park and then got herself arrested. Call me after you get off work. I think I’ve made a career choice. Now all I need is that scholarship.”

“You’ve got that in the bag,” Tate said.

“If I don’t, it won’t be for lack of trying,” she said. “I better get at this. It’s already getting hot outside,” she said, blew him a kiss, and waved her shopping list at him as she left.

Tate sighed and went back to shelving the beans. Later, after Briar went up front to check out, he sacked her groceries, took them to her car, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then went back inside with the empty cart and began bagging up the next customer’s purchases.

* * *

That night after Tate was home, he went outside on the back porch, intending to call Briar. But as he took a seat on the porch swing, instead of talking, he sat motionless, listening to the tree frogs and crickets singing and, in the distance, the melody of the water flowing by in the river north of town.