Part 8
Coop hasn't quite got it in him to shoot an animal, and her brothers respect Southern hospitality more than they respect the hunt so they followed his lead and there's no barbecue. They lunch on the chips, the beer, and the juice and sandwiches that Mrs. Avery stuck in her bag when none of them were looking.
Duke cracks open the first beer, considers for a moment, offers it first to the visitor. He's always been the quieter brother. It's nice to see him open up a little to her man. One thing she'll give Coop, he's a people person. While he regales Duke with stories from his misspent medical school youth, she wanders inside to see what they've done to Grandmom's place.
Man-cave doesn't even begin to describe it: the flat-screen television is hooked up to at least four video game consoles, and there is a recliner with a mini-fridge built in. She wants to chastise those boys of hers for their excess, especially since she suspects that neither of them were the bank-rollers. But then she supposes she can't fault them for leaning on Momma for this. They need a safe place, just like she did. She can't fault them for that.
She almost doesn't hear Landry come in behind her, and she flinches when she feels his hand on her shoulder.
"Jesus!"
"Sorry. Just me, baby girl."
"Wish you'd stop calling me that."
He grins. "Aw, come on. It's our special name. Cause we love you, even if you did run away and leave us here."
"You're a grown boy, Landry King. Don't need me looking out for you."
"Aw, I'll always need ya. You done good, Char. That man of yours. You done good."
"Wasn't aware I needed your approval."
"Ah, right, you're the tough one. Never needed anyone, did ya?"
"Landry!"
"Sense that's changing now, though. Wondering if maybe it means you'll visit us more."
She loves them, of course she does. Southern Gothic baggage notwithstanding, they're her boys, and she loves them. Why has she never admitted that, in just those words, before? Of course she'll visit them. They're her boys...
He nods at her limp, bandaged hand. "Can I...can I see?"
She holds out her hand, lets him unwrap the bandage. Lets him run his hand along the imprint that it leaves on her skin.
"Jesus, Char. What the hell happened?"
"It's healing."
"On the hand, maybe. That the only place they get ya?"
"Landry, I..."
"It's all right. I know we're not the kind to say, not to each other, maybe. Some things, just hearing it don't make another understand, so why do it? No need for talk, right? No need for listening, either. Just come out here, in nature, and be sometimes..."
"Is that what you do?"
"It's what I try to do. Char, I can't just drink it all away, like Momma does. It's not enough sometimes. The bottle, I don't find me in there. I find me out here, I think. More and more these days, I find me out here."
"And Duke?"
"I'm working on him. Same way I worked on you."
"Landry King, you surprise me."
"A brother's got to look out for his kin. Even if they're older, smarter and prettier than he is. He's still the brother."
"So, what am I supposed to do with that? Am I supposed to just sit here and say something goopy?"
He leans back on that hideous recliner, pops open a soda can. "Like I said, baby girl. No need for talking. Just sit here, and be."
The ride home is a quiet one. They're all tired, or thinking, or both. Landry keeps looking at her, at Coop, like he knows something. Or like he's imagining. She wonders what he has in his head that haunts him so even a drink won't stop it. Wonders what drove him to find this quieter place out here...
She's back in her room again, enjoying some down-time before the big party, when she broaches the subject to Cooper.
"You have fun with them boys today?"
"Yeah. They're good kids, Char. Both of them are."
"Any of 'em seem off to you?"
He frowns. "Define 'off.'"
"Well, Duke's always been a quiet one. And Landry said something to me that had me wondering. Coop, do you think he has depression? Like, some kind of issue with stress?"
"Well, honest answer?"
"Yes, please."
"Probably wouldn't surprise me. He grew up with the same influences you had, didn't he? And those influences, whatever they were, drove both you and your mom into some scary coping strategies. Even you admit that. So if you're asking me, does he have baggage too? Like I said. Wouldn't surprise me."
"Fair enough. So, can we do something for him? While we're here?"
"I think he's doing it for himself already. They've built that retreat of theirs, didn't they?"
"But..."
"But you love him. And you'd do whatever you could for him. I get that. But Char, you have to let him carve his path, same way you're carving yours. I think he'll lean on you, if he needs to. But you have to let him find his way."
"One thing we can do. Coop, I'd like to visit here more. Could we...could we fit that in, with this life we're having? Come see my kin from time to time?"
"Oh baby, of course we can."
"They still need me. Grown boys, and they still need me. And they still worry, cause I'm their baby girl. Coop, I think Landry knows. Or suspects, anyway."
"Oh, babe..."
"Don't think he's worked it all completely, and I certainly don't think he wants to hear the actual words, that would just put thoughts in his head he don't need to be having. But I think he...look, can you talk to him for me? Set his mind at ease?"
"Um...I guess...but what should I say to him?"
"I don't know, Coop, you're the man here. How do men talk about these things? Just tell him you've got this one. He can put it aside this one time, cause you have it. Tell him I'm okay, Coop, and you have it. And don't put any pictures in his head that don't need putting there, you get me?"
"Char..."
"You said you'd help me, anything I need. I'm calling you on that. Do this one thing for me, Coop. I can't have those boys looking at me and thinking scary things. You need to put this to rest. Tell 'em you got it, and make sure they never have to think about it again, you understand me? You set those boys right for me."
He closes his eyes, mouths something that looks like a prayer. Then he nods, and leaves her to her preparations.
She showers, cleans herself up after her day of boys. Puts a dress on. Takes the bandage off her arm. She even curls her hair a little cause she knows that Momma likes it, and Coop comes back just as she's finishing.
"It's done?" she asks him.
"Probably the hardest conversation I've ever had to have. But yes, it's done."
"Both of 'em?"
"Yes."
"What'd you tell them?"
"What you said. That you know they've been worrying. That you came out here for them, so they wouldn't have to anymore. It's better now. They can see, it's better. And I have this one."
"Did they ask you? Did they ask you anything, about..."
"Went out of their way not to, actually. Not sure if that's your Southern politeness, or if they just can't even make themselves contemplate someone hurting you that bad, but they stayed far, far away from any kind of detail. When it was done, I got a nod from Duke, a handshake from Landry and then an offer of a beer."
"That sounds about right."
"You look lovely, by the way."
"I'm trying. Still taking effort, Coop. But lord help me, I'm trying."
"I love you."
"I know you do. I...I love you too, Coop."
He smiles, slow and gentle. "Hey, wow. Been awhile since you said it that way."
"Like I said, I'm trying."
"Can I kiss you? Would that be...?"
She closes her eyes, lets him get closer. She can still smell the woods on his skin. She can't quite bring herself to keep her eyes open, but she tries the kissing part, and it doesn't feel half bad. Another baby step. Well, good for her.
The boys aren't weird, when she comes down again. Both of them look her up and down, note the dress, note the curls. They note the faint flush of colour in her cheeks from a day outdoors, and a look passes between them that says this is done for them. They've put it away, good repressed Southern boys that they are. She wishes it was that easy with Addison, with Pete, with people who saw her at her weakest. Wishes she could zap them some good old Southern Gothic baggage and help them put it away...
"Hey," Cooper says. "No more serious thoughts. It's a party. Let's enjoy it, shall we?"
Sounds like another baby step, to her. But she'll take it.
She and her brothers save the gifts until the party's over and the rest of the guests have departed.
There are two boxes for Momma, one from each of the boys. "Oh, a sweater! Landry, how nice. And...another sweater. Duke, you shouldn't have!"
Then Momma gets to her gift, a last-minute suggestion she cribbed from Coop while they were driving back from Grandmom's.
"It's a plane ticket," she explains. "Open-ended, on the dates. You can come and see us in LA, Momma."
"Oh! That'll be nice."
"Maybe come to a meeting while you're there. Easier, getting your feet wet with strangers sometimes. This, I can vouch for."
Momma gives her a funny look. "Hmm. I bet you can. Thank you, darling. I've love to come and see you and your man."
And then the brothers start ribbing Coop for being a city boy. And she realizes that she's had the first normal, happy day since this all started.