March 1st 2021

Chapter 60
Our Work to Recall

Melinda Friar would know, of course, with the baby to look after, and the hours her son kept at the ranch anyway, that he would be up bright and early. No doubt for that, she called him at a time so early as to lead him to believe, just for a few frightening moments, that something had gone wrong. But then he barely had time to answer the call that there was her usual cheerful tone, asking if he might have a chance to drop by the house on his way to work, and his thoughts were swiftly rearranged to understand what this was really about. The archive.

Maya would be bringing Marianne and meeting him out there in a couple of hours, as she had to see to a few things at home first, which was more than fine. Lucas would have other duties to tend to once he reached the ranch anyway. Manny would not fault him for dividing his attention, not for this, but that didn't mean Lucas would choose to abandon everything else that didn't have to do with the archive for the next month.

When he arrived at his parents' house, his father was off in his office, on a phone call, and he could only hold up his hand in greeting to him before tipping his finger to indicate 'downstairs.' Lucas waved back and nodded before heading toward the basement.

If Lucas needed someone there, in the development of the archive, to maintain organization and order, he needed to look no further than his mother. Even as she was clearly rummaging in search through the items they had stored here, it all still looked just… next level clean. From what he could see, she had gotten hold of one empty container, the better to receive whatever items she found and wished to pass on to potential use in the archive. The thing was already halfway filled, so clearly there was still a lot for them to find.

At the same time though… He watched her, sitting there on the ground, distracted by the pair of old boots in her hands, and it got to feel as though some part of her resisted this, remained conflicted, and he could understand that, couldn't he? There was a difference between providing for the archive and surrendering a piece of herself, of her memories of her mother.

"Mom?" he announced himself, which made her startle momentarily before relaxing again with a smile. Lucas came over and offered his hand to help her stand again. She went on standing there with those boots, almost looked to be embracing them in her arms as she spoke.

"I have a feeling this will take all day," she told him with a laugh as she looked around the room. "I need to go to your uncle's, too, he is finishing early this afternoon, so we will see what he has to offer." She sounded optimistic over the experience, getting to spend some time with her brother as they reflected on their mother. "Look at these… You would think they were almost brand new; she took such great care of them." Lucas smiled. It was hard not to look at those and think of his grandmother. They were practically a signature of hers, broken out on special occasions.

"But they have to be… fifty years old," he stopped, realized. "Grandpa Jax gave them to her when the ranch turned ten, didn't he?" Melinda smiled, nodded.

"They were the first gift he ever gave her. She'd say it was the first time he tipped his hand, showed that he didn't just care for her but loved her. They were married a year later, and Michael was born a year after that. Do you know, I used to have a pair just like them? He knew all about how I wanted to emulate my mother, and since he'd made hers, it was easy to make mine just the same, only smaller. Day I grew out of them, you would think someone had died. He made new ones, ones that would fit, but it really wasn't the same as those first ones…"

The way she looked at the boots, Lucas knew it would have to be her decision, no one else's. He knew that they were so reminiscent of his grandmother, that it was just the kind of thing he'd feel inspired to put on display, but it was so much more than that to his mother. Yes, they spent most of their time in a box, but that was solely for safekeeping's sake, and Lucas knew he had seen her take them out to look at them a few times over the years… on her mother's birthday, on the anniversary of her passing… The boots would be the hardest thing for her to let anywhere out of her reach, and at the same time she recognized their value, what they represented, in the grand scheme of Sullivan Stables. They would reflect so much of her mother's legacy, and anyone who would come along to visit, who would have known Marianne Sullivan, from near or afar, would see those boots and remember the lady who'd worn them.

"Here," Melinda finally spoke, her voice tipping toward that more introspective side of hers. She set the boots back in their box, still marked with her stepfather's note to her mother, the words of a man with no expectations or demands, only unspoken love. Melinda held out the box to her son, and Lucas looked back at her. Are you sure? "I'll have time to change my mind a hundred times if you don't take them now. Please, let me do what is right?" she asked with a small smile.

Sitting back in his car, some time later, Lucas' mind was still with the container in his trunk, with the box sitting inside there like something that defied the word 'precious.' There were just some things, if one was so lucky as to have them, that felt imbued with the power of memory. Oh, there could be any number of objects like that in one's life, especially as the years came to accumulate on them, but then others… others practically had an aura to them, until something so small as a glance could unlock… everything. Those boots were definitely on that level, the boots and their box together.

X

2008

"Why are you putting them away?" Lucas watched his grandmother as she sat on the bench at the end of her bed and pulled the boots from her feet. In the short years of his life, he had gotten to see enough to comprehend how these things were important, to be handled with care. His mother had absolutely instilled this awareness in him, too. It made it so that, even at just seven years old, he was generally trusted to handle those objects without breaking or damaging them. He had that air about him.

"Oh, you know me, angel, I don't mind getting my hands dirty… or my feet. But sometimes, exceptions can't be helped," Marianne Sullivan laughed. Lucas looked at the boots and without prompt moved to get the box from the shelf inside his grandmother's closet before bringing it to her. "You always know what to do, don't you?" she beamed now, pressing his cheeks in her hands. Lucas smiled back and nodded. He set the box on the bench and opened it, careful to pull back the paper inside. Once his grandmother had put the boots in, he closed everything up again, patting the closed lid, his hand stopping at the inscription on the top.

"Who's Annie?" he asked with a curious frown.

"That's me, that's what your grandpa would call me, short for Marianne," she explained with the smile of a fond memory.

"Annie," Lucas read aloud. He had to work a bit harder to make out the letters in the man's handwriting, but he worked it out well enough. "To many more years walking the lands and to ten years of the Sullivan Stables. With care, Jackson." It was the first time he had actually gotten to look at the box, at the words, since he had learned to read. He'd never given them much thought before, but now…

"That was before your grandpa was your grandpa," Marianne told him. He didn't understand. "Come here," she held out her hand until he came to stand in front of her and she could hold his hands in hers. "Did your mama ever explain to you, how she and your uncle don't have the same father?"

"They don't?" Lucas asked, frowning in deeper uncertainty.

"I was married before Grandpa Jax, to a wonderful man… We built this place together, the whole ranch. He gave me your mother," she smiled, her expression left to drift from this memory into another, entirely less warm. "He died when she was really little. She doesn't remember him, you see? But then Jax came along, and we fell in love, and we got married, and we were a family, the three of us, and then your uncle when he was born. But before all of that, he was… a great friend. And he made me these."

"He did?" Lucas was in awe. His grandpa could make boots?

"Yes," Marianne laughed. "That's why they're special."

"Can I put them back now?" he asked, with a new sort of reverence.

"Go on," his grandmother quietly told him. He picked up the box, carried it back to its shelf. "While you're there, would you be so good as to get me… Yes, those," she smiled as he brought her other boots. "Here we are," she stood once she had them on.

"What do we do now?" Lucas asked. He was spending the weekend here with her, while his parents were out of town to visit friends.

"Now, I have a surprise for you."

They left the house together, hand in hand. Walking along through Sullivan Stables, Lucas was already left with this impression of how much everyone cared for his grandmother here, how much they looked up to her. This was a good place, for all those who came to it. And for none was it as true as for the horses who called it home. He was little, but he could see the difference. He remembered one horse that had been brought here after it had been hurt by its previous owners. They'd all nursed it back to health, and he'd seen them all do it, seen the change in the animal. It was a while ago now, but he still remembered how he'd told her that day, told her he wanted to take care of animals when he was older. The way he saw it, there couldn't be anything better for him to do out there. He wanted to be like these people here.

"I know you know how to behave yourself in there, but just to be certain…" his grandmother told him as they approached one of the stables. When she said this, Lucas looked up at her, and he just knew…

"A new one?" he asked her, and she smiled. "A baby?"

"Yes," Marianne laughed. Oh, he did so love to see the little ones. He approached it with learned caution. There was nothing to be worried over. They all responded so well to him, like they could sense they were safe with him. This one was no exception. Once, he would have asked his grandmother what the horse was called, but he could read now, and he knew where to look to find out for himself. He sounded out the word and found that he liked the feel of it for this little one.

"Hi there, Trooper," he smiled reaching out to touch him. The foal welcomed this, and Lucas did not leave him wanting.

TO BE CONTINUED

See you tomorrow! - mooners