Little Moments: It Runs in the Family
Chapter 29: Country Darkness
Disclaimer: I wish I could say Sawyer is my own character...but she's not.
Author's note: Alright, we're gonna find out what's wrong with Russ and the aftermath of it all. There will be multiple small sections within the chapter. Enjoy!
OTHOTH
For most of her life, Sawyer loved getting in the car. She loved the wind through her hair; the buzz of the speakers next to her left calf; the method and rhythm of shifting gears- she loved it all. It was an escape. And she desperately needed an escape.
After she'd gotten off the phone with Dr. Wilkes, Sawyer had called Peyton to take the twins to their t-ball game. As much as she'd love to watch her kiddos run around that baseball diamond, Sawyer had to get to Ben. It wasn't something that could wait. He needed to know about his dad, and he needed to know now. Sawyer wanted to be the one to tell him. She needed to be the one to tell him.
The Coast Guard base wasn't far from home. Ben was supposed to be on the Diligence all morning, but an hour before his shift was up, he had been called in for paper work requests. He and his crew were supposed to go out for a three week patrol along the mid-Atlantic coast next month.
That wasn't going to happen. Not now.
Sawyer pulled up to the gate of the base and flashed Willie a somber smile.
"Why, hello Sawyer. How those babies treating you?" He hit the buttons on his controls to let the gate open.
Her dark sunglasses hid her red, swollen eyes, and Sawyer tried to sound happy, but she wasn't ready to talk. She couldn't. Instead, she just waved her hand and drove on through. She parked a few cars away from her husband's and took one big, deep breath.
The walk to the entrance was a long one because the concrete felt more like quick sand. She pushed through the front door and knew where he'd be. Normally you had to flash your badge or sign in, but Sawyer made eyes with the worker at the front desk and just kept on going. She was breaking the rules, but Sawyer had never really been a rule follower. There was one person she wanted to talk with and he was leaning back in a chair by the main control panel filling out paperwork watching boats light up the screen as their coordinates came in.
"Ben?" Sawyer found her voice, but just barely. His name came out in a quiet whisper unlike ever before.
He tapped his pen against his clipboard thinking of the best way to position his guys for the next patrol when he heard Sawyer say his name. Spinning around in the office chair, Ben smiled. "What are you doing here, OJ? I was just about to head out to the game." He waited for her response but when it didn't come, he put his clipboard down and stood up. "Hey...What's wrong? Is it the kids?" He recognized her sunken posture and her drawn-in body language. Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but he could tell she'd been crying.
There was a hitch in her breath and she was fumbling to find the words. She managed to shake her head and tried again, but it still wouldn't come.
Concerned, Ben stepped closer and rubbed his hands over her arms. "What is it?" Another few seconds passed by so he pulled her into his chest. "Whatever it is... It's gonna be fine." It wasn't like Sawyer to be like this. Something was obviously wrong.
His touch and genuine compassion made her heart drop. He didn't even know what she was gonna say, and he was already telling her it would be okay. Sawyer's eyes began to well, and she took a step back. "It's your dad, Ben."
"My dad?" The Coastie furrowed his brow.
"He was working and there...there was an accident." She wiped her eyes and shook her head, her broken voice barely recognizable. "It's bad."
Feeling his heart-rate spike, Ben swallowed a lump in his throat. "What hospital?" It wasn't the question he'd wanted to ask, but it came out anyway.
"North Methodist or Methodist North. I don't remember, but there's a flight to Nashville at four. You need to go."
Glancing at his watch, Ben knew he needed to leave now. He needed to leave fifteen minutes ago. His mind was racing but his feet couldn't move. How bad was bad? Was his dad conscious? Was he in surgery? What was going on?
Sawyer could see the questions in Ben's eyes. She took a deep breath and told him what she knew. "He...he was working with somebody's horse and he got kicked..." Sawyer felt her cheeks redden with emotion and she tried to be strong. She pulled her hand up to her mouth and bit her lip, taking a deep breath before speaking. "He was kicked in the head."
Kicked in the head? Ben's brow furrowed as he tried to comprehend what Sawyer was saying. The head? His throat burned with confusion and he felt sick to his stomach. It was starting to hit him and he raised his hands to his head. His chest started to ache and he knew bad meant really, really bad. He bent over hoping he could breathe better. "So...so..." Ben tried to muster the courage to finish his question. "It's a brain injury?"
Sawyer could only nod as she reached for his hands.
"Ugh..." Ben let out a groan and his face started to turn red. This wasn't some accident that required stitches or bandages. This was not some easy fix.
It hurt Sawyer to see Ben so worried. He was such a good guy. Bad things weren't supposed to happen to good people. She opened her mouth to say something but Ben started walking away from her without saying anything. He didn't look back, he didn't speak to anyone. He got outside and started to sprint for his car. His feet slapped the concrete so hard he could feel it in his knees, his joints. This couldn't be happening. His dad was Russ Trammell. He was kind and compassionate. He was healthy and he wasn't old enough to die.
And that wasn't going to happen. Ben wouldn't let it.
OTHOTH
The drive from Nashville to Memphis was supposed to take three hours, but Ben's rental car was fast. Pushing past ninety miles per hour the whole way, Ben only stopped once to get gas and to throw up. The closer he got to home, the harder it got to keep going. He tried to call the hospital but he hung up every time he dialed the number. What news could they possibly have for him that he wanted to hear in the car.
With only his thoughts to keep him company, Ben kept his focus on the road.
When he started seeing signs for Memphis, he turned toward North Memphis off the interstate. The Coastie could feel the sweat start to pool on his head. The hospital was fifteen minutes away and that short drive was the longest fifteen minutes of his life.
The automatic doors opened up and that stale hospital smell hit Ben like a brick wall. He mustered his strength together and walked to the reception desk.
"I'm looking for a patient. My dad, Russell Trammell was brought in earlier this morning."
The young woman looked up from her seat as soon as she heard the name. She didn't need to search the computer, she'd already heard about what had happened. "He's in the CCU. Dr. Wilkes will have more information. Take two rights then get in the first elevator you come to. Go to the third floor."
"Thanks." Ben could see it in that girl's face. Something wasn't right.
The hospital was lonely and cold and he got lost twice trying to find the right wing. The simple directions seemed complicated and Ben's nerves started to pulsate with his every heart beat.
Before Ben found a nurse or a doctor, he saw an old friend of his father's pacing around. "Mr. Jenkins?"
Turning to the younger man, the farmer slid his hand through his sliver colored hair. "Ben?" The older gentleman was in jeans and stained, bloody shirt.
Ben couldn't help but wonder if that blood had been from his dad.
"It was an accident." The older man seemed to be in a state of shock. He looked blankly towards the wall and kept shaking his head.
"What happened?"
"He was going to see how May Bell was doing with her young. That's our new mare, and all of the sudden she starts bucking and stirring up trouble. Something spooked her. Your dad tried to calm her down but he got kicked clear in the head." Mr. Jenkins rubbed his brow and shook his head. "It was an accident, honest." The older man looked as though he were about to cry.
"Where is he? Where's my dad?"
Pointing down the hallway, the older man sighed as Ben started to walk away. "I'm mighty sorry son."
Ben slowly started walking and hoped his dad was dealing with a severe headache; maybe even a broken jaw. But it couldn't be anymore serious than that. Ben wasn't ready for it. Not at all.
A few doors down he saw R. Trammell written on a white board outside of a room, and Ben stopped before going in. Buried down in the the depths of his chest, the courage Ben needed to walk inside that room propelled his slow pace inside. A steady beep from a monitor mirrored Ben's slow steps closer. Somebody was in that hospital bed, but Ben couldn't tell who it was. The lifeless figure had a white contraption over his head that looked like a helmet meant for aestronauts. There were wires and tubes everywhere, and Ben's heart sank towards the floor.
"Dad?" Ben said his name wanting a response, but instead there were more beeps. As Ben inched closer, he felt his chest feel heavy. An accordion looking device was moving up and down feeding Russ oxygen. Ben's eyes watered and he clutched onto the bedside railing. "Dad..."
Russ's hands were by his side and his eyes were closed. The right side of his face was bruised and he was barely recognizable. Ben was afraid to touch him but he reached for his cold, callused hand.
"I'm sorry. We don't allow visitors at this hour." A voice from behind Ben came from a nurse who was checking things off on a chart.
"I'm..." Ben had to clear his throat. "I'm his son."
The woman's eyes changed and she nodded. "I'll go get Dr. Wilkes."
Ben knew if a nurse was making special considerations about visiting hours for him, whatever news Dr. Wilkes had was going to be the hardest thing he'd have to hear.
"Dad, come on..." Ben turned back to Russ pleading for him to wake up. "Wake up. Please. Wake up" He looked down to his father's hand that seemed so small and fragile next to his own. Ben could remember a time where those hands were strong but now they were limp. Russ wasn't Russ anymore. Ben heard the doctor come in behind him so he took a deep breath.
"Mr. Trammell?" Dr. Wilkes extended his hand and introduced himself.
"Ben." Ben shook the doctor's hand and glanced back to his dad. "What...How is he?"
Dr. Wilkes looked down to his notes and then shook his head. "His head injury is serious. The kick broke his cheekbone in six places and his brain hemorrhaged between the frontal and temporal lobe. The trauma has prevented the necessary communication between his brain and his lungs. Right now he's on a respirator and the machines are breathing for him."
"They're keeping him alive."
Before answering, Dr. Wilkes swallowed hard. "Yes. We did a brain scan and there hasn't been a response."
"How long?" All this information was coming at once, and Ben was suddenly overwhelmed with the severity of it all.
"It can depend. People have recovered from accidents like this. The bleeding and the swelling may go down with time and he could wake up with minor brain damage. But, just as well, he may never respond to our tests." Dr. Wilkes lifted his shoulders. "You'll want to consult with his lawyer to see if he had a plan in place for something like this. If he does, we can manage his case and medication according to his requests. If he doesn't. It will be up to you."
Ben felt his heart fall. Up to him? Dr. Wilkes was talking about life and death. He was talking about taking away his father forever. Ben couldn't make a decision like that.
Dr. Wilkes could see Ben's mind start to race. "We are going to keep monitoring his status and you'll be the first to know if anything changes."
OTHOTH
Forty-eight hours after Ben had gotten to Tennessee, Sawyer had finally made it. Under normal circumstances, Memphis was somewhere she loved to visit. She loved the town and the people, but most of all she loved getting to see Russ. That sweet, old soul was always for the wiser, but Sawyer already sensed this trip was going to be different. This cab's headlights bounced down the dirt driveway and Sawyer could see Russ's old truck parked by the porch. The old Ford didn't have that shine it normally did. Against the dark, night sky, the yellow farmhouse was aglow, however. Ben must have turned every light on and left them like that.
Pulling out some cash, Sawyer could see her hand trembling as she passed the cabbie the money. Her nerves were shot and so was her heart. She didn't wait on the driver to get her suitcase. Instead, she drug it out of the trunk herself and then slowly studied Ben's childhood home. She knew what she was about to walk into. Ben had been by the lawyer's that afternoon.
Lighting bugs floated by her face and Sawyer swatted them away as she walked to the kitchen door. Russ was known for his tidiness, but the house Sawyer walked into was anything but clean. Ben had only been in town two days, but the house was an absolute wreck. Glasses lined the kitchen counter and the table had stacks of papers dripping onto the floor. Past the kitchen, Sawyer could see the living room was a mess, too. Ben had obviously been sleeping on the couch because the pillows were casually misplaced. There was a blanket thrown over the chair's ottoman, two boxes of cereal were tumpted over on the coffee table, and there was an opened can of baked beans sitting on one of the coasters. It was a mess, an absolute mess.
Moving into the living room, Sawyer felt compelled to clean up. She grabbed the cereal boxes and then reached down to pick up the blanket. What was hidden underneath made her heart skip a beat. Ben's old guitar was in pieces on the floor. The body had been smashed in and the neck was hanging on by a few strings. "Ben..." Disappointed, Sawyer said his name under her breath as she tried to pick up his mangled instrument.
The cracks from the old hardwood, made her look to the stairs. He must have been up there. "Ben?" This time she called his name with purpose.
Sawyer walked into the kitchen and looked at the cluttered counters as she put the cereal boxes away. She moved some of the dishes to the sink, washed her hands, and then walked over to table. Stray pieces of paper had made their way to the floor and she started picking them up, too. The letterhead on top of each made Sawyer slowly stand up straight as she began read the fine print: Harris Shelton Hanover Wash PLLC. Sawyer's eyes traveled down the page. Last Will and Testament of Russell Joseph Trammell. Article I... Sawyer felt her throat constrict as she read out her father in-law's basic information. Article II. I appoint my son, Benjamin Joseph Trammell as my Personal Representative to administer this will. Should he not oblige, my brother John Hemmet Tramell Jr. of Franklin, Tennessee should administer this will. Article III. Should anything happen to me where I can no longer communicate for myself, I ask that three days be given for any medical intervention. Should three days pass and I am still unresponsive, do not resuscitate.
Sawyer felt her eyes begin to water. They were almost on day three. Looking at the kitchen clock, there were only ten hours until that deadline.
Article IV. I devise and bequeath my home and my land, 185 acres at 1716 Hawkins Mill Place to my son Benjamin Trammell. Should he decide to sell, I ask that it the money be split three ways. My son will receive forty percent of sold profit to do with what he pleases. My grandchildren, Miller Elisabeth Trammell and Robert Benjamin Trammell shall each receive thirty percent to be entrusted for college or other expenses until the age of eighteen.
That tightness in Sawyer's chest was becoming too painful, and she couldn't read anymore. She dropped the paper down on the table and walked back through the house, tightening her arms around her chest. It was all too much. "Ben?" She stopped by the foot of the stairs and looked up. "Ben?"
A noise outside made Sawyer turn towards the back porch. Sawyer approached the door and pressed her nose against the screen. The sweet, Southern air brushed over her face as an easy breeze passed throughout the porch. She could hear her husband outside grunting and the sound of something rustling through the leaves of nearby trees. Sawyer stepped out onto the porch and noticed the near-empty bottle of Jack Daniels by the side of a rocking chair. Ben probably nursed his emotions with the Tenneesee whiskey as he'd read his father's will.
Sawyer walked down the steps and through the soft grass behind the farmhouse, not sure what shape husband was going to be in. An emotionally charged, drunk Ben was not the man she wanted to be around, but Sawyer knew he needed her. She needed him.
The outside lights only went so far- twenty-yards or so, and when she got to the tree-line, Sawyer had to peer into the darkness. She could hear his groans and saw his shadowy figure by the tallest tree on the right. Something was in his hand, but Sawyer didn't know it was a baseball bat until she got closer.
Tossing up a pecan shell, Ben swung for the fences and let out a deep breath when he heard the nut crack against the wooden bat. He sensed Sawyer's presence but grabbed another pecan shell.
"Ben." Sawyer's tone was soft and worried.
Swinging so hard he thought his shoulders may have come out of socket, Ben ignored his wife. "Ugh...!" He closed his eyes and let the sound of the nut sailing through the trees calm his nerves.
"Ben." Sawyer stepped closer and furrowed her brow. Didn't he hear her? Didn't he need her? Didn't he want her there?
Grabbing another pecan, Ben swung and missed. "Dammit." He tried again, but his momentum and anger, his denial and his sadness got the best of him. Spinning on his heels as he whiffed again, Ben lost his balance and fell onto the ground. His cheek was against the cool, soft grass and Ben started to sit up. He still had the bat in his left hand and he threw it hard against the ground. He rested his arms against his knees and looked out into the darkness. "I..." He shook his head and swallowed hard. "I can't do this, Sawyer."
Feeling her heart break, Sawyer knelt down next to him. She opened her mouth to say something, to comfort him, but he said something first.
"He's gonna die in nine hours..." Ben squinted at his watch trying to tell time in the dark. "...nine hours and thirty minutes."
"You don't know that." Sawyer had to be strong.
Ben turned to her and locked his eyes with Sawyer. Yes they did. They knew all to well that Russ was going to die. It was just a matter of time.
Looking into the eyes of the woman he loved, tears started to roll down Ben's cheek. Sawyer hated to see a grown man cry and she put her arms around Ben, burying her own tears into his shoulder. They were going to make it through this, even if Russ wasn't.
OTHOTH
Sawyer made her way through the full house and tried to smile through the pain. This was going to be much harder than she imagined, and Sawyer could feel it deep within her chest. Around every corner and scattered throughout the house, death had left a heaviness in the air; a heaviness that carried the weight of the world, or at least the weight of Memphis, Tennessee. The whole town seemed to be in the old farmhouse with their handkerchiefs, teary eyes, and short stories- paying their respects in memory of a man taken too soon. But no matter the support they brought and no matter how many smiles or visitors graced the old farm house, Russ wasn't coming back.
As difficult as it was for Sawyer, it was worse for Ben. He and his father had been a duo for so long that he wasn't sure how to cope with his dad's tragic death. Ben couldn't face everyone who came to shake his hand and remind him why he'd come home- not all at once. After twenty minutes of being inside amongst the other mourners, Ben had to take a breather. He walked outside and hoped nobody would follow. Ben needed to be alone for a minute. He needed to catch his breath and clear his head.
It was too much.
Inside drifting from room to room, Sawyer moved away from a stranger's hug and spotted an empty platter set out in the dining room. Seizing the opportunity to take a break of her own, the thirty-seven year old found her way into the kitchen. She stopped shy of the sink remembering how many times she'd seen Russ in that old apron of his with a washcloth thrown over his shoulder cooking up a storm in that very spot, hand drying the dishes after every meal, and the way he leaned against the counter telling stories from Ben's childhood.
The kitchen just didn't feel the same anymore. The paint seemed dull, the sunlight wasn't as bright through the windows, and there was no hum of classic rock or country music coming through the speakers. Now it was empty. Now it was bleak. The entire house felt Russ's death, not just the people.
Sawyer ran the platter under the warm water and tried to think of happier times. She couldn't dwell on the sadness. She needed to be strong for herself, the twins, and mostly Ben. He needed her support now more than ever.
"How you holding up?"
Startled, the mother of two nearly lost her grip on the platter she was holding. Quickly turning, Sawyer felt her brow furrow when she saw her dad's eyes. She didn't speak but lifted her shoulders instead. How was she holding up? She wasn't really holding much of anything, she was barely making it through.
Lucas felt his heart burn for his daughter as the the memory of losing his uncle Keith played over in his mind. He knew how much Russ meant to Ben and he knew how much Russ meant to Sawyer. Walking over to her, Lucas watched Sawyer drop the platter in the sink and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the side of her head. They didn't have to speak. A comforting embrace was more than words right now.
"Dad..." Sawyer's word came out in a hurried breath and a tear fell down her cheek. That ache in the center of her chest started to pound with an unwavering condition.
"I know." Lucas closed his eyes and held her tighter. He dug his cheek into the side of her head and breathed in deeply.
Lucas and Peyton had gotten to Tennessee yesterday with Miller and Bo, but Sawyer hadn't really seen them much. The last thirty six hours had been a blur of estate and insurance meetings that Sawyer had tuned out. She couldn't remember a single word Mr. Kimberling, if that was even the estate man's name, had told them a couple days ago. Everything had gone in one ear and out the other. All she knew for certain was that she'd been sitting next to her husband holding his hand while strangers told them the best ways to liquidate Russ's assets, how property should be sold, and how the funeral was to be arranged.
Only a half hour into the visitation and already clinging onto her dad, Sawyer watched Ben through the kitchen window. She knew his heart was broken and it killed her to see the pain he was facing. He was leaning against one of the old pecan trees and rubbing a shell between his fingers. She could only imagine the things going through his mind. Would they sell the house? Would they sublet the land? The anxiety was painted on Ben's furrowed brow. Then two little toe-headed children ran up to him with happy smiles. Miller and Bo didn't quite understand the enormity of death just yet, but Sawyer could see that they were making Ben smile; making him forget about the money questions and property lines. He bent down to see what the pre-schoolers were showing him, and Sawyer felt a little less broken. Ben looked happy, too. At least for now.
That was all that mattered.
Sighing, Sawyer moved away from Lucas. "Thanks for that."
Lucas politely nodded and left Sawyer to herself. He could tell she needed another minute or so of solidarity.
When her father left, the blonde moved towards the refrigerator where little images of her life with Ben had been put on display with tiny magnets. Sawyer's eyes roamed the photos and she felt her mood begin to lighten. An old postcard postmarked with a Florida return address was starting to yellow, but Sawyer traced her handwriting with a smile. Instead of a typical honeymoon visiting a vineyard with wine tasting, Ben had had other plans four years ago when they got married. Just as Sawyer looked to the next picture of Miller and Bo from their pre-school Christmas assembly, she heard the kitchen door crack open. Turning, Sawyer looked to the door and at the woman who seemed hesitant to come in.
The stranger was in black like the others, but when she looked up to Sawyer, there was a familiarity in her eyes. They were a warm blue Sawyer had seen before.
Greeting the woman with a somber smile as though she were just another neighbor showing their kindness, Sawyer looked back to the picture of Miller and Bo. Then without warning Sawyer's stomach fell to her toes. Those eyes. Those warm blue eyes. Miller had those same eyes.
Ben had those eyes.
With her mouth open, Sawyer turned back to face the stranger but she was gone.
Hurrying out the door and down the steps, the woman had quickly shuffled away to a car.
Compelled by her curiosity, Sawyer followed the sixty-something with gray-blonde hair outside until they were stopped next to a Lexus sedan.
"I shouldn't have come." Looking down for her keys, the older woman started to mumble to herself, pushing a silver strand of hair away from her face.
Sawyer recognized the cheekbones and her chin. Other signs of Ben were visible too. Their posture was similar and even the direction they parted their hair. Sawyer didn't need to keep making the connections to figure out who the mystery woman was. She was Allie Trammell...or Allie whatever her last name was. She was Ben's mom.
Feeling eyes on her, the woman gave up looking for her keys and glanced to Sawyer with a devastated sigh. She swallowed hard and looked to the man no more than fifty yards away from her playing with two small children by the tree line. He was a father now. Her son was a father. Fighting back tears, Allie knew she'd made a horrible decision in coming back. Ben wouldn't want to see her. The younger blonde who'd followed her out to the car didn't particularly look thrilled to see her either.
Her eyes went back to Sawyer. "You're Ben's wife, aren't you?" Allie saw the ring Sawyer wore and could only assume as much.
Sawyer had always thought about this moment. Ever since Ben had told her the story of his mother walking out on him, Sawyer had conjured up some choice words for the particular human being. But they didn't come out. Not at first. "What are you doing here?"
"I...I read it in the paper." Her voice cracked but the slow southern accent came out like a sad country melody. "I knew he'd be here, and I wanted to make sure..."
"He was okay?" Sawyer's voice wasn't as elegant as she cut Ben's mom off. "You had twenty-five years to make sure he was okay." Her eyes darted straight to the large wedding ring on the older woman's hand. How dare she come see if Ben was okay? That was not her place. Not anymore.
"I know what you must think." Allie stuttered, the emotion in her voice becoming more pronounced. "I never meant to hurt him. Either of them. I loved Russ. I did." The pounding in her chest and the pain running through her heart reminded her that she still loved him. When she'd stumbled upon his name in the obituaries, Allie had almost fainted. Not Russ Trammell. He couldn't be dead. Not the man who lived by the Golden Rule and was as healthy as a horse. She couldn't believe it. It didn't feel real. Her eyes wandered back over to Ben and she felt a sharp pain of regret run through her system. "I was young. It was a mistake." Allie took a deep breath and looked for sympathy. "You must know what that's like."
Sawyer did. She knew all too well how one mistake could change everything. She, however, had made a choice to try and correct the wrong she'd done in the past. "How...how could you leave him? Both of them. Ben was just a kid."
"I'm not proud of what I did. I have to live with it everyday." Allie felt her eyes water again. She blinked her tears away, her age and the lines on her face started to show. "I knew Russ would take care of him, though. That's all I ever wanted. " Her gaze went to the house she'd once shared with Ben's father. Things had been so different back then. She wasn't as miserable as she'd thought she was all those years ago and Russ had deserved better. "I wish I had apologized to him. To both of them. I'm sorry for that."
Sawyer looked over her shoulder to her husband and children. If she'd been younger, she would have liked to kick the lady in the mouth for the pain she'd caused Ben. But Sawyer wasn't as young as she used to be. There were a million things she'd love to say to this woman, but none of them came out.
Allie knew she better leave so she turned to walk away. Glancing back one more time, she tried to show a small amount of kindness and nodded. "Thank you for giving Ben what I couldn't give Russ. I can tell you love him." She glanced back to where her son was and softly smiled. "He looks like the kind of father Russ was."
Sawyer studied the woman for a moment and then she turned to Ben and nodded. He was so much like his dad. Diligent and caring, kind and gentle. Ben always did first and asked later. Russ had done the same.
For a moment the two women looked off into the distance. Ben was tying the little girl's shoe while the boy was using a stick like a sword.
"Miller and Bo. " Their names came out of Sawyer's mouth before she even knew what she was saying. For whatever reason, Sawyer felt for the older woman in front of her. Those were her grandchildren, too. "They'll be five in October. Russ named our little girl. He'd said if he'd ever had a girl that's what her name would have been. I fell in love with the name as soon as he'd said it." Sawyer could see Allie take a sharp breath in. Maybe that had sounded familiar. "And Ben named our son, Bo. It's really Robert but Bo for short."
"They're beautiful." Allie didn't know how much regret she could handle and turned away to look down the dusty driveway. She turned back to Sawyer, "Thank you for telling me."
Sawyer shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "He never stopped loving you, you know. Russ, I mean." Pausing for a moment, Sawyer studied the older woman in front of her.
Allie nodded her head. She could feel the truth in Sawyer's words cutting through her like a knife. She nodded and then slipped inside of her car.
Sawyer watched the sedan pull down the driveway and she felt a sense of relief wash over her. There was something incredibly fulfilling about talking with Ben's mom- even if only for a few minutes. While Sawyer watched the dust settle along the driveway, a small handed tugged on her own.
"Mama, watch. I climbed the tree."
Smiling at the blue-eyed little boy, Sawyer started to follow her son. "You did?"
"Watch..." Bo ran off towards his sister, holding his arms up in the air.
Ben scooped Bo up and lifted him on a nearby branch as Sawyer walked up to them. Memphis would always hold a special place in her heart- in all of their hearts. The sweet smiles on her children's faces were truth enough to remind her that even in death, a light- a lingering happiness from a young soul, was really what it was all about. It wasn't the land or the sprawling pecan tree that brought that joy, it had been Russ. His death would be one of those hurdles Sawyer and Ben would tackle together, but they'd grow stronger because of it. In life, tragedy often brought people together and it would be the same for the Trammell family. It always would be.
OTHOTH
Ugh...I really did hate that I had to kill Russ off, but that had...unfortunately...been planned since the beginning. I'd always said we'd get to see Ben's mom in some capacity and for those of you who remembered or were looking forward to that moment, I hope you liked it. It wasn't the knock-down, drag-out fight I first envisioned Sawyer would have with the woman, but I liked the way it played out nonetheless. The story's almost over...Boo. Stay tuned for the final chapter!
Review please!
