The Light Comes On

I wasn't sure how long I sat down by the river, but it was late morning by the time I got Blue back to the barn and settled in. I wasn't looking forward to going in but knew I had to face up to it sooner or later. Sighing deeply, I went inside and found a surprisingly quiet house. There were some soft noises coming from the kitchen so I went in there and found Doralice mixing something up.

"Hi," I said softly.

She looked up. "Hi."

She went back to what she was doing, and I knew she wasn't happy with me. Not that I blamed her, I wasn't happy with me at the moment either. "Where's Jack?"

"In his room. He was pretty upset when Bret brought him home."

"I'm sorry about what happened."

Doralice looked at me again. "I don't think I'm the one who needs to hear that."

"I know."

"Let him sleep for a while; he's tired. He doesn't need to be fussed at right now."

"I wasn't gonna fuss at him."

"Maybe not intentionally, but I wouldn't be surprised if it happened."

I grimaced. "I know I could have handled it differently. I know I should have but . . . I didn't think I just . . . reacted."

"You seem to be getting in the habit of that lately." There was an edge to Doralice's voice I didn't expect.

"What do you mean by that?"

Doralice stopped what she was doing, crossed her arms, and leveled me with a look. "You haven't been yourself since Jack arrived, Bart. You've been on edge, you've been snappy, you've . . . Bret told me about what happened. That's not like you, Bart."

"I didn't mean for it to happen like that."

"That's what you said about the incident with the vase."

"I explained that," I said. "I wasn't expecting . . . . "

"And I wasn't expecting this to make you crazy," Doralice shot back. "I know this whole thing was unexpected, and, yes, it's been inconvenient at times, but I thought you of all people would have more understanding for him." It wasn't often Doralice was truly upset with me, but she certainly was now.

"What do you mean?"

Doralice suddenly seemed to deflate, and she sank down on one of the kitchen chairs wearily. "He's just a little boy, Bart. He didn't come here to make your life hard."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"Well, I don't think he plotted it out."

"That's not what I mean." She got to her feet and crossed the room wrapping her arms around me. "He's six years old, Bart. He just lost his mama, he doesn't know who his father is or where his father is, he was taken from the only thing he's ever known and sent to strangers, and he couldn't do anything about it. No one asked him what he wanted. His whole world fell apart around him and he couldn't do anything."

For the first time, I really thought about that. It was easy to say I knew all that, and I guess intellectually I did, but I had never stopped to really consider what that all meant for Jack. It's never easy to feel out of control, even as an adult, and Jack probably hadn't felt like he'd had control of anything for a very long time.

"He's not much older than you were when your mama died," she added.

That was a well-aimed shot, whether she'd meant for it to be or not. I winced and rested my chin on her head. That's what she'd meant by I should've had more understanding for him. It was so long ago, and I'd been so young that I don't remember a lot of details from those days, but I do remember the loneliness and the confusion, and Pappy not acting like Pappy for a very long time. I remember clinging to Bret because he'd been the only thing that still made any sense; the only thing that was normal. Jack didn't have that. Jack didn't have a home or a brother or any other family to hold on to. Life as he'd always known it was just over, and what he had now was a strange place full of strange people and a vague promise his father would show up one day.

"You're right," I said quietly. "I should have been more understanding."

Doralice pulled away enough to look up at me. "He's just scared, Bart, and he's looking for someone to love him."

"And I haven't even come close."

"It's not that. I just think you're scared too, although I don't know why."

I pulled her close to me again. "I don't know. I just feel like I can't reach him. It's like he'd rather be around anyone but me."

"Have you considered he's never had a man in his life before?"

This time I pushed her away so I could see her. "What?"

"He's never met his father, and there obviously wasn't anyone else to take care of him after he lost his mother. How many men do you think he's known?"

"I never thought of that."

"I think there's a lot you never thought about."

I sighed. "I guess he's due another apology from me."

"I'd say so, but he needs to sleep right now, and so do you. Go get some rest; he's not going anywhere."

XXXXXXX

I slept fitfully throughout the day, and the afternoon shadows were growing long when Doralice came and woke me. "Were you planning on sleeping all day?" she asked sitting down on the bed beside me.

I gave her a wan smile. "If I could get away with it. How'd everything go today?"

"Not bad actually. Feeling any better?"

"I'm feeling more rested," I told her. Better was relative, but I was hoping I was at least capable of having a rational conversation now. "How's Jack?" I knew I needed to make amends for what had happened earlier and figured that would be easier if he was feeling better himself.

"He seems better than he was this morning, but I think I need to warn you about something."

I didn't like the way that sounded. "What?"

"Your father's here."

I groaned. I was well aware of my failings of late; I didn't need Pappy to help point them out. Doubtless, he was aware of all the nitty-gritty details of the last few days, as well as what had happened down at the river this morning. Given how he'd taken to Jack last week I couldn't imagine he was too happy with me right now. "Maybe I'll just stay in bed after all."

Doralice leaned over and kissed me. "He came to see the girls like he does every Sunday. It has nothing to do with you."

I grunted in response; I wasn't so sure of that, but it wasn't something I was going to argue about. "Listen, I know I need to talk to Jack, but I'd like to take a walk first. Try to clear my head some. Do you mind?" I wasn't sure if I really needed to think things through or if I was just trying to avoid Pappy and Jack together, but either way, the idea seemed like a good one.

Doralice gave me a look like she suspected what I was up to, but she finally shook her head. "No, not if it helps you." She gave me another kiss and stood up. "I'll see you later."

After she left the room, I got up and got dressed. Once I was cleaned up I slipped out of the bedroom and went out the back door so I could avoid talking to anyone just yet. Once outside I started walking and ran the whole situation with Jack and Dandy through my head, starting from the time Jim had shown up until now.

The fact was, Doralice was right, I hadn't been myself since he'd been here and I wasn't sure why. I thought it was something I needed to figure out though, and the sooner the better. One way or the other, I had to find a way not only to apologize to Jack for the way I'd yelled at him but to actually make peace with him. Maybe Doralice was right; maybe all he needed a little more understanding.

It was almost dark by the time I made my way back home, and once I got there, I sat down on the back steps. I just wasn't ready to go in and face Jack yet, maybe because I still didn't know what to say to him. Sure I could just say sorry, but I felt like Jack deserved more than that. I wish I knew what Bret had said to him today, or even Doralice or Pappy. I didn't understand it. Why was it Jack seemed to get along with everyone but me? Why did I make him so nervous?

I sat outside, elbows on my knees, as I stared off into the darkness and tried to find answers to my questions. I knew I'd been acting oddly the last few weeks, but I'd been chalking that up to too many life changes at one time. I was now wondering if that was right. Maybe it wasn't too many changes; maybe it just wasn't the right kind of changes. Maybe I just wasn't cut out to be a father. That was a sobering thought and not one I liked, but one I couldn't help but think. I didn't seem to do all that well with Maudie during her hours of crying and how I'd handled Jack today proved I wasn't much better with older children. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

I sighed and dropped my head into my hands. Was that it? God knew mine and Doralice's journey to each other hadn't been easy. There had been a lot of wasted years and failed romances in my life before I'd found myself here. Even after I'd got here there had been delays that made me wonder if I'd ever get to marry Doralice. I'd always thought of it as bad luck or some crazy twist of fate, but maybe that had been the universe's way of trying to stop me from making a mistake. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be a family man.

That was truly sickening thought. I loved Doralice, more than anything, and I loved our girls. I couldn't imagine not having them or going back to the way my life used to be. But how else could I explain how completely inept I seemed to be at fatherhood. Sure I was new to it all, but so was Doralice, and she was getting along just fine. Even Bret who has never expressed much interest in having a family of his own was pulling this off better than me. I felt like I was in way over my head, and I didn't know what to do with it.

The door behind me opened, and I expected to hear Doralice's voice or to have her slip down beside me. It wasn't Doralice I heard though, it was a rather gruff sounding "Bartley."

I winced at Pappy's voice. If he was helping Jack, great, but I wasn't sure I had it in me to endure one of Pappy's lectures tonight.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"No," I mumbled only because saying yes wasn't really an option.

Pappy walked across the porch and lowered himself down on the steps next to me. A grunt accompanied the movement, and I was reminded that Pappy while still spry for his age was about forty years my senior; he wasn't a young man anymore. I wasn't a child anymore either, so why was his mere presence getting me so anxious? I was a grown man and this was my house. Yes, he's my father but I do have some control over what goes on here. If he started to say something I didn't like I could speak up. But that would just start a fight and I wasn't feeling up to that either. It looked like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"What are you doin' out here?" he asked once he'd settled in next to me.

"Thinkin'."

"About anything in particular?"

I didn't answer right away. Chin propped on my fist I looked out into the yard and thought about how best to answer that. It probably wouldn't take much for Pappy to accuse me of wallowing in self-pity. I didn't really think that's what I was doing, but whether I was or I wasn't, I didn't want to hear what he had to say on the topic. "How I could have done things differently," I finally told him.

"With Jack?"

I grimaced. Apparently Pappy was of the opinion I could have handled that differently too. I wasn't surprised, and he wasn't wrong, but I didn't need him to tell me about it. "Among other things," I told him. Like Dandy Jim Buckley.

"And what could you have done differently?"

I shook my head and stated the most obvious thing. "I shouldn't have yelled at him. Not like that."

Pappy nodded thoughtfully. "What else could you have done differently?"

For some reason, that got to me. I was reminded of being about fifteen and Pappy trying to extract a confession out of me for something or the other. Needing some space to breathe I pushed to my feet and walked out into the yard. Keeping my back to Pappy, I crossed my arms and took a deep breath. "Plenty I'm sure. You gotta have at least a couple of things in mind."

I didn't have to see Pappy to know the look he was giving me; I could feel it. "What's that mean?"

"I don't know." I don't even know why I said it. Maybe I was feeling too much like a kid.

"Why don't you just calm down a little, son?"

"I'm calm," I snapped. I winced as soon as the words left my mouth, knowing my tone was belying the words.

"Oh, I can see that," Pappy muttered sarcastically.

I sighed, recognizing me and Pappy were on the very path I'd been afraid of. If things kept on like this, I'd end up either a fight or a lecture on my hands for sure. Well, I wasn't a child, and there was no reason to act like one. I did need to calm down. "Pappy, can we not do this tonight?" I asked evening out my tone. "Please."

"Do what, Bartley?" Once again, I didn't need to see Pappy to know he was now gazing at me inquisitively, one eyebrow raised.

I finally turned to face him. "Give me a detailed report of everything I've been doing wrong. I'm already painfully aware of it; I don't need to hear all about it right now."

"I see." Pappy stood, another grunt accompanying the act, and walked over to me. "You think that's why I came out here?"

"Didn't you?"

"I hadn't planned on it."

"Oh," I said quietly feeling a little stupid for my earlier defensiveness.

"I'm really curious, Son. What is it that you've been doing so wrong?"

"What is it I've been doing right the last few weeks?"

"I need more information than that, boy."

I finally decided just to say it. If Pappy thought I was having a pity party so be it. "I'm not sure I'm meant for this, Pappy."

"What?"

"This," I said gesturing towards the house. "All of this. I don't . . . I don't know if I'm cut out for this. A husband and a father and . . . this."

Pappy gave me a look that made me think I'd actually hurt him. "You really believe that?"

I looked down at the ground. "I don't know. I don't want to but . . . . I don't seem to be handling any of this very well. Bret can get Maudie and she's quiet in two seconds. I get her and she screams for hours. You and Ben can get Jack to laugh and play poker, and I can barely get him to string a whole sentence together." I looked back up and smiled sadly. "Maybe I'm just not meant to do this."

"What about Doralice? You think she'd want anybody else to be her babies' father?"

"Yeah, well, what we want and what we need ain't always the same thing."

Pappy sighed and tugged on my arm. "Come here."

"What? Why?"

"We're gonna go back over there and sit down so I can try to talk some sense into you. You ain't stupid, Bart, far from it, but I swear sometimes you just don't think."

"I'm thinkin' fine," I said trying to shrug out of Pappy's grip. He turned loose of my arm but still gave me a nudge towards the stairs.

"No, you're not. Sit down."

"Pappy, I'm . . . ."

"Sit."

I heaved a sigh and plopped back down on the steps. I'd play along until Pappy got whatever it was out of his system.

Pappy stood over me and crossed his arms. "What do you mean you don't know if you're cut out for this?"

"I told you what I meant."

"You're a bad father because Maudie doesn't cry as much with Bret and Jack played poker with me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, no, that's not the only reason, but I keep waiting for things to get easier, for something to feel natural, and . . . it doesn't. Everything seems just as hard and foreign as it did two months ago. I mean, I think everybody handles my babies better than I do."

"You mean me and Maude and your uncle Ben?"

"And Bret and Doralice."

Pappy sort of chuckled. "Well, boy, Maude, and Doralice are women. They're mamas too. Don't even try to compare yourself to that because you'll never win. Mama's are special."

I looked up at him. "What about you?"

Pappy seemed to think about that for a minute. "How old are you, Bart?"

"What?"

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-two," I answered slowly wondering where Pappy was going with this.

"And how old's your brother?"

"Thirty-four."

"Now how old are the girls?"

"Pappy, what does . . . ."

"How old are they?"

"Just shy of three months."

Pappy sat back down. "Alright. I've had you and your brother for more than thirty years. You've had your girls less than three months. Don't you think I've had a little more practice with all this than you have? It's been a mighty long time since I've spent the night walking the floor with anyone."

That reasoning suddenly made a lot of sense. "I guess you've got a point there."

"I think so."

"But Bret hasn't had any practice."

"If you're talking about Maudie, Bret has an advantage over you. He doesn't have to live with her. He's never been up all night with her. He's her uncle, not her daddy."

"What difference does that make?"

"Bart, have you ever considered the possibility that Maudie knows how tense you are? That she can tell Bret is more relaxed?"

I looked at Pappy in disbelief. Could it really be that simple? "What about Jack?"

"I think it's the same thing. You've been a wound pretty tight the last few weeks, Bart. I think that boy in there knows you're uneasy around him, and if I was a betting man, I'd say you get him just as worked up as he gets you."

I had to admit everything Pappy said made a lot of sense. "So . . . you don't think I'm a terrible father?"

"If I learned one thing during all the years I've been playing poker it's that cheaters don't care that they're cheaters."

And just like that, Pappy was cryptic again. "Okay," I said slowly wondering what that had to do with my problem.

Pappy put a hand on my shoulder. "My point, Bart, is I don't think terrible fathers worry about the fact they're terrible fathers. You just keep on loving those girls like I know you do and you'll all be fine."

"You really think that?"

Pappy gave me a long look. For a moment I thought there was something he wanted to say but he finally just smiled. "Yes, sir, I do." Pappy slowly got to his feet and turned to go back inside.

I heard the door shut behind Pappy and continued to stare out at in the darkness thinking about what Pappy and Doralice had told me. Loving my girls was easy. If I could just find a way to let Jack know I really did care, we all might make it through this.