Heyas,

I would like to take the opportunity to thank everyone who's been reviewing…I don't have a lot of free time on the internet to post individual replies, but I am terribly, terribly grateful that people seem to be enjoying this!

This one's a bit short, I'm afraid...and actually really depressed me :( But the angst bunny bit, so I went with it. This will probably be the last part of this for a week or so...I think the next couple parts are going to be longer efforts with actual contained storylines instead of just snapshots. Just trying to decide if I want to play in the present or do a flashback.

He sits on his rickety, twin bed and strokes the faded, blue patchwork quilt—the one Mama made him for Christmas when he was eight—with one hand. His best tie is hanging loose and unknotted around his neck and the collar of his Sunday shirt has so much starch in it, it's practically cutting into his flesh. He stares at his reflection in the warped, pitted surface of the old mirror hanging on the closet door. There's an open envelope on the bed beside him, and a thick sheaf of crisp, cream-colored paper in his other hand. Congratulations on your acceptance into the University of Kentucky, reads the first sentence on the first page. Even more important is the paper behind it, informing him he's been awarded an academic scholarship, the amount of which had made his eyes bug out. He takes a deep breath, and lets the thrill of victory run through him.

College. He got into college.

For a moment, just a moment, he closes his eyes and imagines what it would be like…to run down the hallway into the kitchen with the letter in his hand.

Mama would be standing at the stove, making breakfast while Daddy sat at the kitchen table with his coffee and newspaper. He'd sneak up behind her, and slowly reach over her head, dangling the envelope in front of her eyes. She'd see the return address, the big blue seal in the corner, and gasp a little, before snatching it out of his hand.

"EJ? Oh…oh baby," she'd whisper, as she slowly pulled the letter out of the envelope with trembling, work-calloused hands. She'd read the words, and her hand would fly to her mouth, tears welling up in those piercing blue eyes that had been her gift to all three of her children an spilling down her soft cheeks. "Oh my Lord! Oh, darlin'!"

She'd look at him then, smile her beautiful, sunlit smile and her eyes would be so, so proud even as she tried futilely to wipe the tears away. She'd reach for him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder, hugging him as tightly as she could. Daddy would demand to know what all the fuss was about and she would just thrust the paper at him, laughing aloud.

Daddy would close his eyes for a moment, lean back in his chair, and though there would be no effusive words or tears, there would be such fierce pride in his face. All of Daddy's hard work, all of his years of sacrifice, all the late nights working at the garage…it would all be more than worth it to the man in that moment as he realized his son would be going on to greater things than he himself had dreamed of. One of Daddy's most cherished dreams for his children would come true in that moment, and he would have given that to the man.

Daddy would clap him on the shoulder, ruffle his hair in that way that was every bit as affectionate as his mother's enthusiastic embrace. He would declare that they were all going out to celebrate that night and….

And he swallows hard, blinking rapidly.

There is no point in thinking about how things could have or should have been. Down that road lies only pain he can't afford to let himself feel. He takes another deep breath, catching his bottom lip with his teeth. Slowly, he stands up and begins knotting the tie with easy, practiced motions. His suit jacket is hanging on the back of the bedroom door, along with the shiny maroon graduation robe. The mortarboard is out in the kitchen, and he can only pray that Sara-Beth hasn't decided to put stickers on it or something.

There's a soft knock at his door and then Jesse pokes his head into the room. The boy has shot up in the last year, and he can already tell that Jess is going to be the spitting image of Daddy. They both are…the same strong jaw, the same nose, same chestnut brown hair.

"My two boys…Spencer through an' through," Mama would sigh. The only thing that had ever marked them as hers were their eyes. She'd been so happy when Sara-Beth had come along, looking every inch a Nixon.

"Hey Jess, what ya' need?" he asks, jerking his chin in an invitation to enter. His little brother shuffles in, picking at the buttons on his sleeves and glaring at the tie as though it has done him some mortal offense.

"Man, I can't get this stupid thing tied right," he huffs, "an' Granny's tryin' ta' do Sara-Beth's hair up."

He feels one side of his mouth quirk upwards. Sara-Beth hates it when their grandmother braids her hair, but is fortunately too polite to say so. "Hand it over," he replies, reaching out for the stubborn tie. "C'mere an' stand in front a' me."

"Cross th' wide end over th' other end…all right, now pull 'er up through th' loop there…"

"C'mon Daddy, what I gotta wear this fer?"

"Practice."

"Practice fer what?"

"Practice fer when ya' got someone ya' want ta' impress. Man only gets ta' make a good impression once, EJ."

"That ain't no good reason ta' be tyin' a noose around yer neck ev'ry day."

"Look on the bright side…yer mama's gotta wear heels."

He guides Jesse's hands through the motions and tries very hard not to think about standing in the position Jesse is in now, Daddy standing behind him and doing exactly what he is doing. Jesse's face screws up into the exact expression his still does every time he pulls the knot tight, and within seconds of letting go, the boy is pulling at his collar. He smiles again and shakes his head.

"Hey EJ?" Jesse turns around to face him, his hands jammed deep into the pockets of his good pants. The boy doesn't look at him, instead suddenly finding the floorboards very interesting.

Oh great, what had his brother gotten into now?

"Yeah?" he says warily. Jesse huffs a breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the motion.

"Just…M-mama an' Daddy'd be real happy today." The words are blurted out quickly, almost too fast to understand, and by the end of the sentence, Jesse's voice is suspiciously thick. "Th-they'd be real proud. An'…uh…me an' Sara-Beth are real proud a' ya." He can see the tips of Jesse's ears turning pink from embarrassment.

Silently, he reaches out and lays a hand on his brother's shoulders. "Thanks, Jess," he says seriously. The boy ducks his head and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets.

"Anyway, Granny should be done with Sara-Beth by now…better get goin', right?"

"Yeah…yeah, go ahead. I'm right behind ya'."

Jesse grins at him, the expression a touch watery, and darts out the door. He watches his brother leave, listens to the sound of the boy's footsteps, and the muffled hum of the voices of his family in the kitchen. He glances over at the mirror again, and he can't help but wonder if his daddy would be proud of the young man that is staring back at him. Of what he's done. What he's going to do. He hopes so…hopes with everything in him that he's done right by Jesse and Sara-Beth, the way his parents would have wanted him too.

He moves back over to the bed and sits down, scooping the precious letter up again and just feeling the weight of it in his hands. From the kitchen he hears Sara-Beth squeal in laughter at something Jesse's just said. Granny's thin voice rises in an admonishing tone, interspersed with several long, dry coughs. Those spells are getting more frequent, and each time it takes her a little longer to recover. There's a stack of bills on the kitchen counter that need to be paid and the truck is going to need new brakes soon.

He turns the letter over in his hands, glancing down at the bottom of the paper where the deadline for his acceptance of the university entry and scholarship is stamped in thick, black ink. The date passed a week ago. Jesse's voice reaches his ears again, shouting his name and calling that they are going to be late if he doesn't get a move on.

He takes a deep breath and lets the letter slide out of his fingers, into the waste basket beside the bed.