After stopping to top off the tank, Crane took a few back roads and drove to a secluded spot, not the more remote one he originally intended with the jeep but a pretty place as well. Pretty, though, was an understatement. The place was breathtaking. The Sierra foothills beckoned with the promise of new life in spring, and one could follow nature's awakening all the way up the mountains for weeks after it began down below.
All the McFadden boys reveled in the natural beauty of their surroundings. It was in their blood. They likely would not all stay in the area once grown, but Crane had little doubt they would all return when they could.
He was content on the ranch. The few times his parents had taken them away for a few days to see the ocean or camping were fun, but being gone for more than a short time held little appeal for him. Home was where his heart was. What a cliché! He smiled at the thought. He might change his mind one day, sure, but his time away in college was enough for now.
Beth.
Shaking off the thought, he turned to setting up his outdoor work space. He found a sleeping bag in the truck and threw it on the grass as ground cover. Someone had probably forgotten to return it to the shed.
He sometimes drove to out-of-the-way spots like this to get work done away from the house. The distractions inherent with so many in one space sometimes played havoc with his concentration. His younger brothers might coax him to help with homework, jam, or lend an ear. The older ones and Hannah inquired as to room in the budget or what his opinion was on some issue. Right now he felt the need to buckle down, both with proposals and possibilities fresh in his mind from the meetings and to keep from dwelling on the news that greeted his arrival home.
He sat down on the sleeping bag and spread the contents of the daypack around him. Seeking to get numbers down on paper, he would work them through all different ways from Sunday until they stretched to fit an ever increasing demand for finite funds.
~~00oo00~~
Time stands still for no one, it is said, and seems to fly more so when one is occupied. Crane did not notice the change of light from late morning to mid-afternoon. Finding the thermos empty, he reached for the canteen. Water slaked the thirst coffee induced, although the bitter taste had hit his mood just right.
But was he really bitter? That was a good question. Yes, at one time certainly, but now? Time eases pain and filters memories. They fade and fray at the edges, like sepia-toned photographs in old family albums. He had heard an analogy once about strong emotions being like the equal and opposite reaction found in physics: that where there is love, there could also be hate. He hated the addiction that drove them apart, but her? No, he never hated her. Disappointed, oh yeah. That's where the bitter fit in. Hopes and dreams dashed, but they were so young, in high school at first, but both wise and circumspect beyond their years. Family circumstances had seen to that – for one, death; the other, divorce.
He lay down and looked up at the sky. The sun to the southwest had retreated behind cottony clouds, the early spring sky a perfect blue to complement them. He closed his eyes. Playing upon his senses, the breeze, light earlier in the day, now whistled dirge-like in his ears. At quiet, contemplative times like these, music was his voice, and how he wished he had his guitar. But he had rushed out of the house in an attempt to run from rueful thoughts, not embrace them. Here, however, in the stillness of an afternoon, he realized he could neither contain them nor put them off. Denial now would breed misery later. And so, he breathed deeply and let them happen.
Since their final breakup, he had seen Beth twice. The first time was a couple of years ago while he waited to pick up the boys at school. He saw her across the parking lot in her car, perhaps also waiting for a younger sibling. She did not seem to notice him, but that brief glimpse brought it all back. It took him a couple of days to sort out the feelings he thought had been tucked away for the final time and discovered he still loved her, though in a bittersweet way, time having tempered the pull.
The last time was about a year ago in town, passing each other on the street. It was awkward at best. They stopped and exchanged a few pleasantries about family and discovered not much had changed in their lives since college. At least that was the conclusion he reached when she skirted his question about how she was doing. She was never a good liar, and he appreciated the honesty, albeit via a non-answer. Then, a very tentative and hurried, "See you around," and she was off.
That encounter left him blank. But, lest the past slap him in the face as it had last time, he poured himself into physical work for a couple of days so that sheer exhaustion had him asleep as soon as he hit the pillow, and dreamless.
At the very least, he wished her the best. He figured she would work out her demons and live as well as she could and they would run into each other sometime. But, now, that was an impossibility. It all left him unsettled.
He yawned, rubbed his eyes. Deep feelings could weary a wakeful mind. A tired one? Forget it. He could fall asleep here and wake long after he should be home. Not exactly the time to be worrying the family if he were late. Doubtless Adam really would have the troops out after him. So, he rose and stretched, surveying the area. Exercise would energize him. Sighting a nearby trailhead, he packed up the truck and threw the canteen over his shoulder.
Starting down a trail he knew to be scenic, he stopped after a half mile, mesmerized by the grandeur. Birds of prey soared, their wingspans his full height or better, and their aerial search for dinner never-ending. Songbirds serenaded him. He reminisced. Both he and Daniel had borrowed their rhythms for a chord here, a riff there. Their parents played and imparted music to them from an early age. It was a constant, a reminder of home …
Oh shit! Dinner. The sun making its race to the west, he would have to chase daylight to make it back in time. A determined pace had him in the truck and on his way before the sun left the horizon.
~~00oo00~~
As at breakfast, the McFadden kitchen at the dinner hour bustled with activity. Each assigned one task and moving on to the next, stepping out of each other's way in the tight space, the cooking, table setting, and beverage placement made its way finished in short order.
Appetizing aromas filled the air. In honor of Crane's homecoming, his favorite, a simple roast beef, rested on a platter. Brian readied the knife and slicing began. Mashed turnips, carrots, and biscuits rounded out the meal.
With one missing, the family kept their ears attuned for the truck. Finally, just in time to sit down, they heard a familiar sound and headlights filled the front room. They relaxed.
Crane entered and dropped the daypack on the desk chair and took off his jacket. The three youngest greeted him. They had not seen him in five days.
A backslap from Evan and side-hug from Ford accompanied the "Hey, Crane! Welcome home."
Guthrie hugged his brother close before looking up. "Hope you're hungry, Crane! Hannah and Brian have all your favorites."
Adam got him next. His voice quiet to be just between them, he asked, "You okay?"
A shrug of shoulders accompanied the reply. "I guess."
As he moved into the kitchen, Crane met each of Brian's and Hannah's eyes in turn. He managed a tight smile in response. Finally, Daniel stopped him with a firm grip on his shoulder. Crane grabbed the back of his younger brother's neck and pulled him close, no words needed.
They waited until Crane washed his hands to take their places. Adam said a simple prayer of grace and gratitude, and they dug in. Crane had not realized how famished he was. Next to him, Hannah squeezed his wrist. He smiled shyly.
Overall, it was normalcy with a dash of concern. They all had his back. He was grateful for it.
Quiet lasted only a moment after grace at the McFadden table. Guthrie was the first to speak. "Crane, how was Bakersfield? Did you see a lot of stuff?"
"Not really, squirt. Mostly the inside of conference rooms and restaurants. But the drive down was nice."
The youngest continued. "How about the ride back?"
"It was okay, but dark. Mostly listened to the radio."
"Why didn't you stay at the hotel another night before coming home?"
Crane chuckled. "Because I wanted to get home." He paused. "And didn't want to waste money on another night in a strange room."
"Why …"
"Okay, motor mouth, enough. Eat your dinner and let Crane relax." Adam admonished his youngest brother.
Hannah changed the conversation. "So how was the movie?"
Ford shrugged. "It was okay."
Evan and Daniel nodded in agreement.
Guthrie piped up. "It was great! All monsters and things being blown up!"
Evan deadpanned, "Yeah. Last time we let Guthrie pick the movie."
"You guys don't know what good is." The youngest rolled his eyes.
"All right, that went well," Adam quipped. "So how was school?"
Ford answered, "School was … school."
Evan announced, "I'm gonna try out for baseball."
Crane raised a brow. "When will you find the time?"
Evan shrugged. "I'll fit it in."
Daniel challenged, "With dance class, rodeo, and chores?"
It was Evan's turn to roll his eyes, his tone defensive. "I'll fit it in, Daniel. I already manage everything okay with football. This'll just take its place."
Brian said, "You know I played baseball in school."
Evan nodded. "That's one reason I want to do it. Figure you can help me practice."
Adam interjected, "We can all choose sides and practice with you, but make sure your grades stay up."
The fifth brother looked determined. "I will."
Hannah asked, "Daniel, how was your day?"
"It was fine."
"Just fine?" She narrowed an eye.
"Uh huh," he said flatly. "Just another day."
Evan took up the next topic. "Amy Flatley told me one of the Slater kids died yesterday. It's all over school. From a drug overdose."
"Really?" Guthrie perked up.
Crane set his fork down, sighed, and took a drink of water.
"Evan! How could you?" Daniel asked in astonishment. He and Ford looked from Evan to Crane.
"How could he what?" Guthrie asked.
"Enough, Guthrie!" Adam scolded.
Crane brought a hand to his face.
"Crane?" Hannah inquired gently, putting a reassuring hand on his arm.
He breathed through his mouth and gave her hand a squeeze. Rising, he said, "I need some air."
"Damn!" Evan said under his breath. "I'm sorry."
Brian pulled him close. "It's not your fault, partner."
