Chapter 21: Letting Go

Year: 1894

Month: March 15th

Age: 18 years

'How kin ya still be so stubborn 'bout dis?'

'I already tol' ya why!'

'She ain't a child no mo'! Why does you keep sayin' dat?'

'Cause she actin' like one!'

'Really? Cause it seem t' me, dat you'se de one actin' all childish!'

'Ah ain't! I'se bein' reasonable!'

'Fine. Call it whateva' you like. I'm goin' cause I'm happy fo' her. You don' go, dat's on you.'

The argument from yesterday kept repeating itself in Br'er Fox's head, as he paced along the floor, hands in his pockets. It wasn't with Farryn for once; she'd barely spoken to him since she left six months ago. It was with her mother, who wanted to know why he was being so adamant about not going to their daughter's wedding.

About two months after she moved out, Sam had asked for her hand in marriage. No was his response and he was prepared to put up a fight if he had to. She was still too young, in his opinion, to marry. He wanted her to be at least twenty-one before she married. He didn't get very far with his battle. His wife had heard about it and had a talk with him about it. She would be eighteen in less than a month. She wouldn't need approval from him after that to get married. If she truly loved that boy, and it was clear that she did, there was a chance that she could run off and elope with him. Said that she'd seen it happen before. And then he'd really never see her again. After thinking it over for a while, he finally relented, saying that it would have to happen after the new year.

That didn't mean he felt any better about it. He was still not happy about it, even on the day of the wedding. He didn't even want to go. About a month ago, she had stopped by, packing whatever was left in her room that she wanted. She had talked to him, saying that, despite what she had said earlier about not seeing him again, she wanted him to be there at her wedding. He outright refused, saying he wanted no part in something he was still very much against. This caused another quarrel between them, with her saying that she didn't care what he thought or even if he didn't bother to show up. She loved Sam and she was going to marry him, whether he liked it or not.

Worried that he was going to leave a rut in his floor, he stopped pacing and glanced up, noticing that her bedroom door was ajar. He wasn't sure why, but something was pulling him towards it. He walked over to it and stood in the doorway, looking around. It hadn't been touched since she was in there last; bed made, floor clean. The drawers on the dresser were open, showing that it was bare inside. If they had been closed, he could at least pretend there was something still in them. His gaze landed on the chair in the corner. It used to be strictly for time-outs, but she brought it into her room once she started getting less time-outs and more groundings. All of her old toys were now sitting on it –a ball, a hoop, a jump rope, the slingshot, and various dolls –most of which hadn't been played with since she was at least nine or ten. He walked over to the chair, picked up her old plush, and sat on her bed. The thing was covered in a layer of dust and the colors were no longer bright and cheery, instead being faded and dull. He rubbed his thumbs over the fabric and noticed the stitches on the left arm.

He remembered that day. She must have been about three or so and accidently ripped the arm off when she played a little too roughly with it. She had let out the loudest, most blood-curdling scream he'd ever heard from her. He had never run so fast in his life, thinking that she cut herself on his axe or knife or something. He was relieved that she wasn't hurt; she was just upset that the doll was 'broken.' He noticed that it was almost time for her nap and, despite her wailing, tried to put her down. She wouldn't stop crying, even after ignoring the cries and taking the plush away so she wouldn't see it. That made it worse. After starting to get a headache from her sobbing, he gave up, snatched the doll and its limb, picked her up, and trekked the fifteen minutes it took to her mother's house. When the door barely opened, he practically shoved it at her while Farryn screamed in his ear and pulled at the fur on his face. It took less than five minutes to fix it and, upon getting it back, the wailing stopped and she slept the whole way back and for a few hours afterwards.

She used to be so dependent on this raggedy thing. She used to drag it everywhere around the house. It sat at the table to eat dinner, slept next to her, and she even tried to take it in the tub with her once. As she got older, she decreased her time spent with it, only taking it to bed with her. That stopped entirely when she was eight. And there it sat on the chair all those years, collecting dust, with its button eyes and stitched on smile. She had learned to let go of it and not be so dependent on it. She would occasionally take comfort in it, like when she was turning thirteen, going through her first heartache or when she was sick. It might not get used all the time, but it was always there for her if she needed it. If an eight-year old could learn to let go, why couldn't he?

They were right; He was being stubborn. He was refusing to believe that she had grown-up, because he was afraid. He was afraid of her becoming an adult and not needing him anymore. Afraid that she wouldn't ever need his help with anything again. Afraid of her moving away. Afraid of letting her out into the world where she would have to take care of herself and no longer depend on him. All this time, all their arguments, were because he didn't want her to grow-up. Because he didn't want to let her go. And today was going to be the most important day for her and he flat out refused to acknowledge it. Was he that selfish and narrow-minded that he was going to miss his own daughter's wedding simply because he refused to accept the fact that she had grown-up?

He'd be damned if he let that happen.

~XXXX~

Br'er Fox tugged at his bow tie as he walked along the road that led to town. He'd only worn his dress clothes on one other occasion; his own wedding eighteen years ago. He didn't remember them being this tight though. Maybe he wasn't as thin as he thought he was.

They were getting married at the local hall, where parties, socials, weddings, and other events were usually held. It had a large, open room where most of the events took place. There were a few rooms in the main hallway that held a small kitchen, the bathrooms, and several storage rooms. He walked through the door and noticed that almost everyone was in the main room. Most of the critters were locals, but he noticed that there were several he didn't recognize, presumably family from the grooms' side.

"If yer here to object, den I'm gunna 'ave to ask you to leave."

When he turned to towards where the voice was coming from, he was met face-to-face with his wife, who was looking at him with an irate look.

"Ya think I woulda got all dressed up in dese stuffy, uncomfo'table clothes if'n I was 'ere t' protest?"

Her expression softened slightly, but she was still looking at him with a rather annoyed look.

"Where she at? I jest wanna talk t' 'er 'n' –"

"Talk to her 'bout what? Dat she makin' a big mistake or sumthin'?"

"…No. I wanna 'pologize t' 'er." He said while glancing down. He wasn't one to normally apologize to others. Why would he? There was no point to it, really. But, this. This was different. Much different.

His wife's face seemed to lose all anger, instead staring at him with a slightly surprised look. She wasn't expecting him to ever admit to anyone that he was wrong. She sighed, looking at the ground for a second before looking back up at him.

"She in de last room on de left. Ceremony begins in 'bout five minutes," she said before turning and going into the small kitchen.

He made his was down the hall until he got to the last door. He sighed lightly before knocking on the door.

"I'se got five mo' minutes, Mama!" She said from the other side of the door.

"It ain't Ma. It's me." There was silence. It was possible she wouldn't open the door for him. Why should she? After everything that happened in the last several months, she had every right to simply ignore him. He wouldn't blame her one bit if she did that. To his relief, she opened the door with an angry look on her face.

"What are you doin' 'ere. Tryin' t' talk me outta dis? Tellin' me how I'se gunna ruin my life?"

"No. I'se 'ere t' 'pologize t' ya."

"'Pologize?"

"Yes, ma'am. 'Pologize fo' e'erythan' o'er de last several years. I'se sorry fer not treatin' you right 'n' tryin' t' keep you frum growin' up. De truth is…ah was afraid. Afraid dat you would move far 'way frum 'ere. Afraid dat you'se neva' gunna need me fo' nuthin' agin. Afraid o' lettin' you go 'n' be out on yer own. Once you all grown-up, you don' need me t' take care o' you no mo'. I wasn't ready t' 'cept dat yet, dat you weren't gunna need me. Dat's why I was so hard on ya, tryin' t' keep you as a child. It was wrong o' me t' do dat 'n' ah only jest realized it now. Thought you deserved t' know all dat 'fore ya go out dere."

Her face no longer held any resentment, instead now showing a hint of concern on it. When she didn't say anything, he continued on.

"I know dat you'se ready t' go out dere on yo' own. I know dat you'se all grown-up 'n' don' like me referrin' t' ya as a child. But no matta' how old you are, jest know dat you'se always gunna be my lil' girl."

She looked down at the ground, her veil falling gently over her face.

"I'se sorry too."

"Sorry? What does you 'ave t' be sorry fo'?"

"Fer thinkin' dat you neva' cared. Fo' thinkin' dat you didn' know nuthin'. Fo' startin' all dem arguments. I realized dat e'erythan' you'se e'er did was cause you cared 'n' cause you love me."

"Course I do."

"But you didn' need t' be 'fraid. No matta' where I go, I'se gunna visit 'n' write t' ya. You'se done taught me how t' take care o' myself, but dat don' mean dat I ain't gunna need you. Dere's prob'lly sumthin' out dere dat I'se gunna mess up. 'N' I'll need yo' halp fixin' it. You know why? Cause no matta' what 'appens, you'se always gunna be mah Papa. 'N' ah wouldn' want anybody else t' be my Pa, 'cept'n you."

He looked at her for a moment, before bringing her into a hug. She returned it and he placed one of his hands behind her head, feeling the fabric of the veil against his fingers. He couldn't help but hold her closer and tighter than he'd ever had before, knowing that it would be the last time he would hug her while they shared the same last name. He didn't want it to end, wanting to keep her in his arms. But he couldn't. He knew he would have to let her go. She finally pulled back, keeping her hands on his shoulders, and looked at him, eyes starting to tear up and a small smile on her face.

"I-I thought dat you wasn't gunna come."

"Not come? Honey, ah might not show it all de time, but you'se de best thang dat has eva 'appened t' me. Missin' yo' wedding woulda been one o' de most foo'ish thangs I coulda eva done. 'N' dats sayin' sumthin'. We both knows dat I'se done alotta foo'ish thangs."

She chuckled at this, letting the tears fall from her eyes. He wiped some of them away with his thumb as they fell.

"Don' cry now. You don' wanna ruin yo' purty dress, do ya?"

"You really think my dress is purty?" She asked, pulling back from him and holding it out. He was finally able to get a good look at it. Her mother had made it for her and it was one of her finest work, if he said so himself. It wasn't the fanciest or the most expensive dress, but none of that mattered. It had lots of intricate stitching on it; he'd heard her mention that she practically spent the last four months carefully sewing and doing fine needlework on it. And it was time well spent.

"A co'se I do! 'Bout de only one dat was jest as purty was yo' Mama's all dose years ago. Uh, don' tell 'er I said dat."

"I don' think you need t' worry 'bout dat. I done heard all o' it." His wife said walking into the room with a slight smile and arms crossed. He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head, slightly embarrassed that she overheard him.

"You ready?" She asked, turning to their daughter, who was wiping the last of her tears away.

"Mo' dan I'll eva be, "she said as she put the veil over her face.

Her mother turned back towards the door, putting her hand on his shoulder momentarily, before leaving the room. He turned to follow her out, hands in his pockets, when Farryn spoke up again.

"Ac'thually Papa, dere is sumthin' dat you could halp me wid right now."

He turned back towards, slightly curious.

'N' what would dat be?"

"You could halp me walk down de aisle."

He just looked at her. After everything that had happened over the last several years, he didn't think she would want him to walk her down. He was surprised she even forgave him. He didn't think he was worthy to be the one to have that honor. But, there she was, asking him to, with a sweet smile on her face. He let a sincere smile form on his face and walked backed towards her, offering her his arm, which she gladly took and they started the walk back to the door that led to the main room. She had one bridesmaid; Rya, her best friend for all these years. The young rabbit smiled when she saw them coming towards the door and began her walk down the aisle to the front.

"I love you Papa," she said to him when they made it to the door.

"I love you too, Rynnie," he said, leaning in to give her a kiss on her forehead.

The musician, a young looking possum, began to play the wedding march on his fiddle. And, much to his relief, he sounded much better than the child that played the fiddle at the school function all those years ago.

They began the slow walk down the aisle, the attendees standing and looking back at them. At the front were her friend, a pastor, and his new son-in-law, who was watching them with a big smile on his face. The folks in attendance, for once, where not looking at him with any kind of hate. Some of them still looked at little uneasy, but at this particular moment, he didn't care. They didn't matter. What mattered was being happy and focused on walking his daughter down the aisle.

When they made it to the front, she turned to him one last time and he raised her veil, placing in behind her head. She hugged him once more and he tried his best to keep himself under control. When he released her, he glanced up to Sam and with a smile, he nodded towards him, wordlessly letting him know that he was finally accepting of him. From what he could see, he had always been a good kid; he treated her well and respected not only her, but him as well, despite how awful he treated him. With that, he went and sat in his seat in the front row, next to his wife.

Eighteen years ago, Br'er Fox had considered leaving and starting a new life. He almost walked out on her, but something had held him back. All these years, he never knew what it was the kept him from walking out that door. He recently figured out that it was actually a combination of two things; love and instinct. He had never felt love before she was born. And it was strong. He hadn't even seen her yet, didn't know that she was a baby girl, his little girl. And yet, he had felt love for something, that for the longest time, he blamed for messing up his life. Despite what he put her through growing up, all the intense heated arguments they had, she never stopped loving him. As for instinct, he had felt it before. He had an instinct to hunt. He had an instinct to kill whatever it was he caught for dinner. He had an instinct to eat whatever it was he hunted and killed. But this was a different type of instinct; an instinct to protect and care. A 'fatherly instinct'.

All this time, he had been worried that he wouldn't be a good father. But somehow, he did it. Him. The nastiest, meanest, and most selfish person in critter country. He raised a child from the day she was born to now, a beautiful, young vixen on her wedding day. He did his part in caring for her and now it was being passed on. Because he finally learned to let go. As he sat there watching as she said her vows, he couldn't help but let a couple of tears fall, not caring that practically the whole town was there. He loved her more than anything in the whole world.

And he wouldn't change a single thing.

A/N: Was that sappy? Yes, yes it was. But you know what, we need a little of that right now in this crazy world. Thank you everyone who kept up with this story! Glad I didn't scare any of you away! This story might be finished but I'm not done writing for these guys yet! I've got an idea for a series of one-shots next and am currently working on an AU. I'm going to take a little break but I will back with more. Until then, thank you guys and take care!