Part 7
Later, there is a knock at the door and she opens it, thinking it's Cooper. She's surprised to see her mother there. She is not holding the drink anymore, and looks contrite and apologetic.
"May I come in?" she asks.
She shrugs, moves back to the bed. Lets her mother follow her.
"Guess I owe you an apology," her mother says.
"Oh?"
"Been getting to know that man of yours. He sounds very in love. I'm glad for you, that you have that. That you've earned it."
"After years of being a stone-cold bitch, you mean?"
"I didn't say that. I never said that. Only ever said that you took a little after him, and you have to admit, you always were your daddy's little girl. Didn't mean you weren't my girl too, though, and maybe I wasn't good enough at telling you that. I know I was hard on you. Mommas always are with their girls. But I do love you. And I'm proud that you're making a life that's good."
She has to admit, she is surprised by this declaration. But she also very tired of talking, so she nods, accepts the compliment that way.
"Told me too that you have something going on with that hand- didn't say what, just that you'd had an injury, and it's been bothering you. I didn't realize."
"Yeah."
"Said it'd been a long day and these things flare up when people are tired and over-extend themselves. So, I owe an apology too, I guess, for not sensing how tuckered out you really were. Should have put off the big, formal dinner til tomorrow night, I guess, and realized a day of travel was likely to wear on you."
"I appreciate the apology. Thank you."
"And as for myself...well, you know how I am. Suppose I should make an apology for that too, but I'm guessing you understand better than most that sometimes I can't really help it. But I'm glad for you- it's partly why I'm glad. I never had a one who was much for talking, and when I couldn't put it on him, I think you know where I put it instead. Where I'm still putting it, I mean."
"You know, there are...there are meetings for that."
"I know there are. You have to talk at meetings, though. Not sure I'm quite ready for that."
She's a little stunned. Her mother's never been this open with her. She feels herself emboldening a little, and she admits "It gets easier, that part. The more you practice, it gets easier."
"I'm guessing it does. You keep on practicing, with that man of yours. You'll come out okay, I think. You'll come out better than I will, in the end."
"Momma, there's still time for you. You can be better, too."
"Maybe I can be. Maybe I should be. Still got your brothers. Still got you. I know there's stuff...stuff to make up for...I can't help it, Charlotte. Sometimes, I really can't. And I'm sorry if that's..."
And now, the maudlin part. Whatever her mother was on, she's crashing now. Where the hell is Cooper? Why is he leaving her with this?
"And now, you're here," her mother sniffles. "And..."
"And nothing." She rises off the bed, pulls her mother up with her. "I need bed, and so do you. Should I call the missus to come and get you?"
Her mother straights, adjusts her dress. Turns off the mood as quickly as it came. "That won't be necessary. Good night, Charlotte."
"Night, Momma."
Her mother turns to leave, then looks back at her briefly. "Charlotte? Do I want to know just what exactly happened to your hand?"
"I don't think so."
"Okay then. Goodnight, my dear."
She sleeps like a stone, doesn't even stir when Cooper crawls in beside her. There are the first early cracks of daylight seeping through the curtains when she eases gently awake and looks over beside her. He's there, as close as he can get without touching her, and he's still peacefully sleeping. Her mother is right, she IS lucky, and she allows herself a smile as she watches him.
He slowly comes to, and reaches over to her. And she's warm and she's safe and she's comfortable, and she feels something relax inside of her.
"Touch me, Coop," she whispers.
He's still a little foggy. "Hmmm?"
"Leave on what you're wearing. But come a little closer. Put your arm around me. It's okay"
He's fully awake now, and he gives her a surprised smile, then moves closer and wraps her in his arms. The panic flares up for a second as she feels hands on both sides of her, but she takes a deep breath, adjusts them so it's not quite as confining. And then she lets those hands lay there and touch her, lets those arms hold her and feel her warmth. And it's okay. A baby step, but one that's okay.
At some point, they hear movement in the hallway, and he pulls her closer, props himself up. He takes her hand and lays it on his belly, gently feeling the bone and muscle, doing his morning check.
"Still a little tender?" he asks her.
She shrugs.
"Want me to wrap it for you?"
"Not yet. Maybe later."
"You want to tell me what the plan is for today?"
"Momma has errands. Party stuff. We're going up to Grandmom's with the boys to keep out of things."
"We're going to meet your grandmother?"
"Course not, Coop, she's been dead ten years. Still have her house, though. Duke and Landry and I, we spent years of life there. Can't bring ourselves to sell it. I think they've set themselves up some kind of man-cave there."
"Sounds promising. And what will you do, while we're manning it up?"
"Man it up too, I'm guessing. I half-raised those boys, Coop. Reckon I can handle anything they throw my way."
He smirks, and she feels suddenly defensive. "What?"
"Just nice seeing you here. Say what you will about your Southern Gothic issues, this is still your home, you know. A part of you will always just slide right in like a piece that fits, and it's cool seeing that."
"My home is with you. Isn't it?"
"The home you chose, yes. But this is the home that made you that tough, confident, sexy woman that you are, and it's nice to see that side of you coming out again."
"I'm healing. Told you I was."
"Yeah, you told me. And until we came here, I guess I didn't quite believe it. But you're healing. And I am so, so in love with you right now."
"That's sweet. Now get dressed, lover boy. In something that makes you look a little butch, if you can manage. We're going to Grandmom's, with the boys, and you'll keep up or I'll leave you to flounder."
He smirks again, mock salutes. "Yes, ma'am."
Momma's not at breakfast, but her brothers are tucking in to the full monty, eggs and toast and bacon and sausage. The missus has set out a plate of fruit for her, and as she serves herself from it, her brother Landry smirks.
"No protein, baby girl?"
"You want the heart attack special, knock yourself out. I'll live longer than you, and be prettier while I'm doing it. Any possibility of getting some yogurt around here?"
Mrs. Avery slips in silently, puts a bowl of yogurt on the table. Leaves just as silently as she came in.
"So," Landry says, turning his attention to Cooper. "You a city boy, ain't ya?"
"Through and through," Cooper says.
"Well, city boy. You ever shoot a gun?"
Grandmom's place is more of a cottage than anything else, a mile outside the city limits, where the heat turns country scrub into veritable backwoods and the black flies are in season 10 months of the year. They park by a dusty mail box, hike past the front door and straight into the acreage behind the little home. It's been years since she's been here, and she barely recognizes the place. Duke and Landry have been hard at work. There's a barbecue as big as her kitchen back in LA, and what looks like a full shooting range: paper targets, tin can pyramids, skeet pellets, the works. And enough hardware for a football team to blow off steam together.
"Redone the inside too," Duke says. "Guest rooms on the upstairs. Big screen on the down. There's a game at two. We got chips, we got beer. You want barbecue too, you'd best start shooting for it."
She sees something go primal in Cooper's eyes at the mention of the guns, and she squeezes his hand, pulls him away for a minute.
"Excuse me," she says to her brothers with a sweet smile. "Give us a sec."
"All right," she says to Coop once they are out of earshot. "You gonna be okay with this?"
"Are you?"
"Jesus, Coop, it's not like I've never shot a rifle. It's country life up here. Hunting's a religion. Big Daddy took us with him every summer, hunting deer."
"He did? How did I not know this about you?"
"Now, it might be smart of you to wrap my hand before we get going on this. Even a pissy little air rifle's got some bite if you're out of practice. But I'll hold my own. Will you?"
And this is where his demons come out, she guesses. This is where he's still healing, too. Because he nods and says the right things, but she can tell he's picturing the face of her attacker on every single one of those paper targets.
Duke and Landry say nothing when she comes out again with a tensor bandage wrapped around her hand. A weakness is something they'd normally rib her for, but those boys are maybe smarter than she gives them credit for, and like Momma, they seem to have sensed that this is not an area to poke at. She lets them choose the hunting guns for themselves, picks up an air rifle for herself.
"Tin cans, or paper target?" Duke asks.
She knows where Cooper's head is at, what he's seeing on the targets, and she isn't sure she wants to go there. It's always been her escape, out here. She can't taint this place with any kind of mental picture like what Cooper's going for. She picks the tin cans.
"I'll set you up the first round," Duke says. "Then you're on your own, baby girl."
She's fine with that. She's fine with enjoying the quiet of nature, the heft of the rifle in her hands as she picks off the targets, strong, confident, successful. She's fine with a little peace from all the goddamned talking.
She wonders what Grandmom would say, if she could see them now, see what's become of them, and of this little retreat of theirs. She's so lost in the wondering that she doesn't even here Landry come up behind her.
"She'd love it here," he says.
"Landry! Sneak up on a woman with a gun!"
"Sorry. Just...saw that you were thinking. Bet I know what about. She'd love it, Char. Maybe not the man-trappings. But the peace up here. She'd love it that we have a place to go where there is peace."
"You know, I think she would."
"Everything okay with you, baby girl?"
"Getting there."
He nods. "Sensed it. Think all of us did. Those last few phone calls...anyway, it's why we invited you. Talked Momma into letting us do her birthday up big. You may have been the one to raise us, baby girl, but we're still your brothers, and that gives us a special job in this world, no matter who's the older, the better, the doctor. So we sensed it. Brought you out here. For this."
That's as far as her brothers will go, with heart-felt talking. But it's enough. She squeezes his hand, draws back again. But before she puts back her walls, she asks him "Big Daddy ever come here?"
"No, baby girl. Just us. And you. And your man."
Maybe this can be a safe place too, after all. Not one she goes to in her head, like the beach, but a real one. A place she can come back to with these boys in her life. A place she can visit more than she has been, and feel at peace.