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Rushing out the door, I kiss Oakley goodbye. She asks me to stay, but I decline, promising her I won’t be that long. The place we’re meeting at isn’t that far from the bar, so it won’t take me long to come back if she needs me. She has my phone number if she needs anything.
And with that, I’m back on the open road, engine roaring as Smoke, Steel, & Whiskey disappears behind me on the horizon.
27
Oakley
My mom’s call is a relief just as much as it is a burden. I have no clue what she’s going to say to me after all this time, but at least she isn’t ignoring me anymore. I figured one of us would break the silence eventually, and it had to be her.
I answer the phone as I make myself a cup of coffee. Savva may have rushed out this morning, but I’m not in any hurry.
“Hello?” I say, trying to sound confident when I’m teetering on the edge of panic, not knowing if she’s called to yell at me or apologize.
“Hey, Oakley, I just wanted to call to make sure you were doing alright,” my mom says, her voice soft and meek. Either this is a front, or she really does feel bad about our prior conflict. I’m betting on the latter.
“I’m alright,” I say, stirring sugar into my coffee. “And what about you?”
“It’s quiet here. I’m used to you being home,” she replies.
“Well, I can always visit.”
“You could always just come back,” she says, immediately triggering my fight of flight response.
“Mom, you know I already made a decision to stay here and run the bar. It’s not that much work, and the money is good. Isn’t that what you wanted from me? To get a good job and get out of the house?” I ask, trying not to raise my voice too much.
“Okay, okay, don’t get so snippy with me. You know I’m only trying to look out for you, and since you haven’t called me in so long, I was getting worried.”
I grit my teeth. “You know why I didn’t call.”
“Let’s leave all that behind us, okay? You’re still my daughter, and I still care about you. I imagine that you’re not determined to push me away forever. I can come visit you, right?” she says, sounding hopeful. I’ve never heard this tone from her, like she’s terrified I’ll curse her out and hang up, never to answer my phone when she calls again.
It’s unsettling.
“You could visit,” I say tentatively, “but I’m not sure how you’re going to like it here. It’s hotter and drier than Georgia, and the bar scene isn’t for everyone.”
“Oh, come now, I was married to your father at one point,” she reminds me.
I had honestly forgotten. My mother and Angus seem like people cut from such a different cloth that there would be no way for me to reconcile what I know about their personalities enough to imagine that they could ever end up in the same room, much less get married.
But then I think of how Savva and I began, and it starts to make sense. Even if I don’t like it, maybe I’m more like my mom than I initially thought.
“Why didn’t you tell me more about Angus,” I say, testing her again. Last time, she was totally unwilling to talk about him, but this time might be different.
“You never asked,” she replies, but that’s a lie.
I take my coffee to one of the tables and sit down, stirring it aggressively. “Okay, well, I’m asking now.”
“What is it that you’d like to know?”
I’m stumped for a moment because I hadn’t expected to get this far. “Um, I want to know what he was like.”
“Difficult,” she replies with a laugh. “He was always riding around on that damn Harley. He took me for a ride once or twice, but I was always afraid of dying on that thing. I guess I was right to be afraid.”
“So, you knew about his death.”
“They sent me a letter just like the one I assume they sent you,” she replies. “I’m entitled to know such things just the same as you are.”
“Yeah, but you tried to hide it from me.”
