EPILOGUE
He tells himself that he's not nervous; Dr. Abel Teller doesn't get nervous. As a pediatric surgeon, he's the one who calms nerves - those of his small patients and their parents - not fall victim to them. But driving back to WH Motors, he realizes that the odd discomfort in his hands had everything to do with clutching the steering wheel a bit too tight.
Bobby Munson was waiting to meet him…Bobby Munson, one of his dad's SAMCRO "Brothers" and one of the few people who could probably answer every question he's got about Jackson Teller - a man Abel barely remembers. For most people, it wouldn't be unusual to not remember someone they hadn't seen since early childhood. But not Abel - he's always had a freakishly good memory; it's always bothered him that he could remember his mother with such blinding clarity yet so little about his father.
Abel's mouth curves in a fond smile, like it does every time he thinks of her; Tara Knowles-Teller may have died when he was young, but she never left him. He can still remember how her face lit up every time she saw him, how she laughed every time they played or read together, how tightly she always held him when he was hurt or scared. Abel's always been a man of science - but knowing the circumstances of his birth, he can't help the fanciful notion that Dr. Knowles must've imprinted herself on him when she fixed his damaged little heart and torn stomach, compliments of the Teller family flaw and the drugged-out junkie who gave birth to him.
But for some reason, Abel draws mostly blanks when thinking of his father - even when he combs through all the old photos of his parents, which he's done hundreds of times over the years. Also - as much as he loved growing up in the close-knit Murphy household - it hadn't helped his unbalanced memory of his parents. There'd been no shortage of stories about his mother; Aunt Margaret and Uncle Dave had been her friends and could talk about her for hours - answering all his and Thomas' eager questions about the other children she'd saved, how she'd even saved Aunt Margaret from a crazy kidnapper and - mostly - how much she adored her little boys. However, neither Aunt Margaret and Uncle Dave nor any of their kids could tell them much about Jax Teller - just that he'd been a complicated man who loved his family.
The sound of his phone buzzing through the car's blue-tooth receiver jars him from his thoughts. Glancing at the caller-ID, Abel smiles wryly - talk about another one of his mother's old friends. "Hey Uncle Nick," he greets cheerfully, mentally bracing himself for the lambasting that Nick Reese - make that California Governor Nicholas C. Reese - wreaked on anyone who didn't do what Nick thought they should do. Most people probably found that insufferable or terrifying or both, but he and Thomas eventually learned to endure it with amused affection - even though Uncle Nick never lived with them, he'd been just as big a part of their lives as the Murphys.
Having gone to college with her, Nick also had a slew of great stories about Abel and Thomas' mom. They loved hearing how smart she'd been, how much she'd accomplished - but also, how she could sometimes cut loose and have fun. That's what Abel likes remembering - how much she smiled and laughed.
But like Aunt Margaret and Uncle Dave, Nick knew nothing about Jax Teller - or at least nothing he'd admit - going into shutdown mode or abruptly changing the subject any time Abel or Thomas would ask questions about their father. Abel hadn't thought much of it until he discovered why - years ago, during a weekend trip he and Thomas spent at Nick's place, he'd gone into Nick's room to look for car keys and found a small picture album featuring a young, college-age Tara Knowles - obviously they'd been a couple, obviously he'd been crazy about her. Yeah, so it makes sense why Nick wouldn't want to talk about the man who married the woman he loved.
"I just talked to Thomas…you want to tell me what the hell you're doing?" Nick demands, not bothering with pleasantries and going straight for the meat.
Tapping his fingers on the wheel, Abel tries to decide how much to divulge; he knows Thomas wouldn't have revealed shit about what they planned to do - like him, his brother idolized Uncle Nick, but they'd both agreed to keep this plan between the two of them. And no one could keep a secret better than Thomas Teller - that kid could've been a spy.
"Just visiting some family," Abel answers innocently. It's not a lie; while in town, he's been staying with Uncle Dave's sister - Julie Murphy Oswald had remained in Charming when the rest of them moved to Baltimore, not long after that fateful day when Tommy had been kidnapped and their father died.
Abel can actually hear Nick's eyes rolling in disbelief. "Oh really?" scoffs the man who'd taught him how to bullshit effectively. "Your first week as a California resident, and you decide to spend it in Charming? That place is a shit hole."
"Says the Governor of the state," Abel hoots. "I'm sure your constituents here would appreciate your assessment of their lovely town. Don't forget, Thomas and I were born here…and so was Mom." When the other man remains silent, Abel decides to change tack; they've always been honest with each other (most of the time), it shouldn't change now. "Look Uncle Nick, I got to do this…All my life, I've had these questions…it's time to get some answers while I still can - this guy's not going to be around forever."
Abel hears him sigh resignedly; even highly successful politicians know when to concede. "Ok, Doc." Even after all these years, Nick's pet name for him still makes Abel smile - despite the heartrending circumstances that had led to its origin. After Thomas' rescue from his kidnapper, Abel had refused to leave his baby brother's side; Nick had charged into their hospital room to find him patching up Thomas' injuries that he'd thought the hospital staff had missed with bandages from his backpack.
"I'm going to be at my house in the City tomorrow night," Nick informs him matter-of-factly. "I expect you and your brother there for dinner at eight. I'll call Rachel." The phone disconnects before Abel can protest - not that he would; he hasn't seen the bossy old guy in months - far too long. Besides, after what happens today, they might need their old friend.
Driving onto the WH Motors lot, Abel feels chills race down his spine - just like it had yesterday when he'd first arrived here looking for Bobby. He still vaguely remembers this place - remembers coming here with his mom, back when the garage belonged to his family. Flashes of his grandmother's face attack his brain, only to be forcefully shoved out; he can't bear to think of that murderous bitch, not now - not ever.
Abel's not sure what he expected Bobby Munson to look like after all these years; he just remembers that, when Margaret told him that he and Tommy would be living with her family, he'd tearfully begged for his daddy's picture box - it'd been the big, hairy man who'd brought the redwood chest to him. So it's a bit of a shock to see the stooped, scrawny man with neatly clipped white hair and beard waiting for him in the garage parking lot - especially when the fragile old guy throws his bony arms around him in a tight embrace.
He shoots a questioning glance at the garage owners - Kenny Winston and Mo Harland - over Bobby's white head, only to have them grin broadly at him.
"Oh shit…sorry," Bobby pulls back then starts swiping at the wetness from his eyes, but the wide smile remains plastered on his face. "Boy, you are the spittin' image of your old man…You know, I was at the hospital with him the day you were born."
Abel shakes his head. No, he hadn't known that - but that's why he's here, to fill the gaping holes in his history. "I was hoping we could talk…about my dad." At Bobby's eager nod, Abel leads him to sit at the picnic table so the older man could be more comfortable. "Tommy's on his way here, can I get you anything to drink or eat while we wait for him?"
"Nah, I'm good…So how was growing up back east?" Bobby continues to stare at him like he can't quite believe he's really there. "They treat you okay? You look real good. Your brother's coming here, too? How's he doin'?" Apparently the ex-biker has as many questions as Abel does.
A sad smile tugs at Abel's lips at the thought of his adopted family. "They took real good care of us - couldn't have asked for better. We lived in Baltimore…that is until Aunt Margaret passed a few months ago. After Uncle Dave died last year, she went downhill pretty fast." He still feels sick inside at losing them both in such short succession; the thought that they're together again helps a little, but a day doesn't go by that he doesn't miss them both.
"I just moved to San Francisco, started a new job at UCSF Hospital in their neonatal practice - following in mom's footsteps, I guess." Abel can't help the surge of gratification that fills him; it hadn't been easy, but he's now a board certified surgeon - just like his mom.
Somehow Bobby's grin widens even further. "That's great, Kid. She'd be so proud of you. Tara was a hell of a doctor, you know - patched us all up more than once. I probably wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her…."
"You and me both." Feeling his eyes start to sting, Abel pats the man on the arm then switches to a safer subject. "Thomas lives in San Francisco with his family - it's the main reason I accepted the hospital job there." A satisfied smile spreads across his face; it'd taken a shit ton of planning and negotiation, but finally he and his brother will be living in the same town again. The last few years he'd spent finishing his residency at Johns Hopkins had been rough with Thomas, Rachel and their sweet baby girl living across the country.
"Holy shit, little baby Thomas is married with a kid?!" Bobby's rheumy eyes widen in shock. "Is he a doctor like you?"
Abel chuckles at the other man's astonishment; no doubt in Bobby's mind, he and Thomas are still little boys. "Yeah, Tommy's a bit of an over-achiever. He's a writer, and a damn good one - got a ton of awards and a book on the best seller list right now. Kid's a genius." Abel's chest swells with pride; there's not a finer person on the planet than his little brother. "And yeah, he's been married for a few years. Rachel - our next door neighbor growing up - wrapped him around her finger the second he discovered girls. They got married right after college."
"Sounds familiar," Bobby muses. "You needed a crowbar to separate your mom and dad in high school…just took a little longer to get married. How 'bout you?" Bobby eyes Abel's ringless hands. "You not settled down yet?"
Abel tries not to roll his eyes over the question he got almost daily from Aunt Margaret, Rachel and his various female friends and co-workers; somehow he hadn't expected it from this grizzled ex-biker. "Nope. Not in any hurry…got way too much on my plate right now." It's not as if he doesn't like women, actually quite the opposite - Abel Teller loves women. He wouldn't exactly call himself a man-slut but he dates when he can and, more-often-than-not, takes advantage of what women offer him - just like Uncle Nick, California's bachelor governor, who attends state events with a rotating parade of socialites and supermodels. But secretly, Abel holds out hope that one day he'll find someone - someone smart and strong, beautiful and benevolent… someone just like the girl his dad married.
"So how old's Thomas' kid?" Bobby breaks through Abel's thoughts. "Hard to believe Jax's got a grandkid now. He would've loved that."
Smiling fondly at the thought of his niece, Abel pulls out his phone. "She's three. Most beautiful little girl in the world." He selects his favorite snapshot of him holding his sweetheart - a dark haired little moppet with sparkling green eyes - and hands the phone to Bobby. "Her name's Tara."
If Bobby had been stunned by the adult version of Abel Teller, he'd fucking bugged out at the sight of the two brothers together - it'd been like staring at clones of young Jackson Teller. But after the initial shock wore off and they'd sat back down at the table, he'd started noticing the subtle differences. Abel's definitely got Jax's coloring, the wheat blond hair and those intense blue eyes - but he's also quieter, more reserved than his old man had been. On the other hand, Thomas' hair's just a shade darker blond and he's got his mother's eyes - but he's definitely Jax to the hilt with that same room-stealing swagger, that fuck-you-smirk.
But what's perfectly clear - the tight bond between the two brothers; it's like those two could talk by reading each other's minds. Jax and Tara hadn't lived to raise their sons, but Bobby knows they'd be so goddamn proud of how the boys turned out.
"So after Aunt Margaret died, her kids decided to put the house on the market. While we were cleaning out all the stuff, Tommy and I found these…" Abel places a packet of small notebooks on the table. "Our dad's journals - he'd written them for us." The two Tellers exchange a silent look before Abel focuses that intense stare back on him. "We don't remember him, Bobby - Tommy was too young, and I…I just draw a blank. These journals gave us insight into a man who loved his wife, his kids, his motorcycle club…but also a criminal who killed people. We're just having a hard time reconciling those things…Can you help us? We want to know who our father was."
Bobby fiddles with the string binding the notebooks together. He'd been the one to find the journals right after Jax died; after seeing an entry addressed to Abel and Thomas, he'd bundled them up and gave them to Margaret Murphy to give the boys when she thought they'd be ready to read them. Apparently - in her mind - that day never came, but at least she hadn't destroyed the notebooks.
"Also, based on what we can figure, the entries stopped right before our mom died," Bobby can't help but gape when Thomas pipes in - the boy even sounds like Jax. "Aunt Margaret, Uncle Dave, Uncle Nick…they all told us some stuff about what happened to mom…who killed her…but we can't help but think that there's more to it than what they told us. We deserve to know what happened - she was our mother."
Scratching his beard, Bobby glances at both boys, intrigued by their mixed expressions - Thomas, so fiercely determined (just like his old man), and Abel…The kid's trying to hide it, but Bobby can see pain in his eyes; even after all these years, Tara's death still haunts him. Not that Bobby's surprised, that boy had loved his mother; after she died, Abel had been almost as shattered as Jax.
Christ, he knew this would happen…Once Moby called with the news that Abel Teller was looking for him, Bobby just knew it'd mean dredging up those up those fucking painful ghosts that he'd tried so hard to put behind him. Tara's murder had destroyed Jax, and the resulting fall-out ultimately blew apart SAMCRO as they knew it.
Juice had been the first to go. Because of his help that'd been critical to finding Thomas, Jax had pardoned him for that shit with Nero and Devany - he'd been free to walk away. But instead, their troubled Brother decided he wanted to go through with Jax's original plan - get caught burying Unser's body and other evidence that implicated him in the Roosevelt/Knowles murders, then in exchange for expediting the death penalty, Juice confessed to killing Roosevelt because of the bad history between them and to protect Gemma Teller after she'd murdered Tara. And then he and Gemma had killed Unser to protect their secret. A few days before Juice's execution, Bobby had gone with Chibs and Tig to visit him on death row; it'd been emotionally crushing for all of them…except Juice, who - for the first time in years - actually looked at peace.
Not long after they buried Jax, both Chibs and Tig (of all people) decided that they were done putting the MC ahead of the ones they loved, neither of them wanting to repeat Jax's mistakes. Chibs had blacked out his ink then bought a one-way ticket to Ireland to reunite with Fiona and Kerrianne; last year, he'd sent Bobby a picture of him and Fi with their great-grand-children. Tig stayed in town, married Venus and started a successful career partnering with Lyla in the porn business - along with Chuckie, that fake-fingered weirdo with nine lives.
SAMCRO did wind up surviving with Quinn, Happy, Montez, West and Rat along with a bunch of nomads - but not in Charming; by a special vote, they were able to move the charter to Santa Cruz to be closer to the Club's new sources of income - strip joints and tattoo parlors up and down the southern Bay Area. Bobby hasn't talked to any of them in years, but he likes to think that they're all still whole and riding.
So it'd been kind of happy ending for everyone - even he'd been okay left here in Charming, he's fine with his quiet life. It's just that from time to time he misses a certain brash tow-headed kid with a cocksure smile and a heart as big as fucking Yosemite. He'd thought those dark days after Tara's murder had been some of the worst…until they got the call that Jax was dead, his body crushed by his own bike. For Bobby, nothing was really ever right again.
As Jax's sons stare at him expectantly, he stands up and signals to Kenny. "Let's go for a ride." He smiles at their surprised expressions. "In the van…my back's too shitty for anything but cages now. I want to show you boys something…we can talk on the way there."
Thomas once had an English teacher who used to tell them that when all the details fit perfectly, something's probably wrong with the story.* Although they'd been talking about writing at the time, he'd always felt that the cite could apply to him.
On paper, the details of Thomas Teller's life have always fit perfectly: growing up in a loving family - never suffering over problems about health, money, school…nothing. And now, everything's even better with a wife he loves, a little girl he adores and a writing career that's fulfilling both creatively and financially…and with Abel - the big brother he's idolized for as long as he can remember - finally living in the same town, life's truly perfect.
Except that there's something wrong with the story.
He'd been too young to remember his parents or anything about his and Abel's life in Charming. Rather, his earliest memories had been in Baltimore with Abel telling him stories about their mom, showing him pictures of their family from his big wood box and playing all the audio books that she'd recorded specially for them. Funny, it'd been those books that drew him to Rachel - after so many years of continuous playback, the voice chips had started to wear out, to his and Abel's horror; even though they'd outgrown the little kid stories, they still loved hearing their mother's voice. But he knew that Rachel - the quiet, brainy girl next door - could fix anything so he'd brought them to her; she'd worked her Mensa level IQ magic and somehow managed to save the audio recordings to newer, state-of-the-art chips that would never wear out. That afternoon, eight-year-old Thomas Teller helped saved his mother's books and fell in love for the first and only time.
It'd been Rachel who'd taught him how to scour the internet for details that no one would tell him about his parents' death, and it'd been Rachel who'd hugged him tight while he cried after reading about his mother's violent, brutal murder. And over the years, it's been Rachel (along with Abel) who's told him over and over that he shouldn't blame himself for his father's fatal accident. But Thomas' brain - always churning, endlessly turning thoughts and ideas round and round in his head - can't let anything go.
According to the small handful of old news stories he could find, Tara Knowles-Teller had been murdered by her mother-in-law to prevent her from leaving town to give her sons a better, safer life away from their father's notorious motorcycle club. And his father…Jesus Christ, his father died saving him from a kidnapper.
And so that's what's wrong with all of his perfectly fitting details - there'd been too steep a price; his parents had sacrificed themselves so that he could have this life. Thomas' smart enough to know it's not rational to question his worthiness - but growing up, he'd wondered and doubted and pushed himself hard to excel at every goddamn thing whether it be school, sports, writing…He succeeded at everything, but it never seemed to be enough.
It'd been Abel, always the perceptive older brother, who'd realized what Thomas was doing and verbally smacked him upside the head when he started college and decided to give up writing for pre-med because that's what their mother would've wanted. "Mom would've wanted you to do what makes you happy, Tommy. I bet she'd kick your ass if you didn't." Easy for Abel to say…he'd been pre-med himself at the time, already on a path to fucking saving babies for a living. But, as usual, Thomas took his brother's advice and, as usual, it turned out pretty damn good.
The incessant voices in his brain questioning his worthiness finally quieted the day Thomas became a father; nothing could be more perfect than his precious baby girl. Being with Rachel, holding her hand as she brought their daughter into the world - he finally got it, finally understood that parents would endure anything, sacrifice everything for their children. Just like his parents had done for him and Abel.
But although his self-doubts disappeared, the questions he's always had about his parents remained - especially after he and Abel found their dad's journals hidden away in Aunt Margaret's house. Which is what led them here - in Bobby Munson's ancient van, headed to-who-the-fuck-knows-where.
When he and Abel decided to learn more about their dad, they weren't sure exactly where that road would take them or where exactly to start. The P.I. he'd hired to find some of their father's ex-SAMCRO Brothers led them to Bobby, who worked at WH Motors, and Alexander Trager, a partner in a porn production business. He and Abel actually thought about hitting up the porn king first - they were guys after all. But then the P.I. dug up a report showing that Bobby Munson had been the one to deliver young Thomas safely from his kidnappers to the hospital. It'd been a no-brainer to reach out to him after that, and a no-brainer for Thomas to embrace him tightly in greeting.
So far, it's been an enlightening drive…Bobby answering all the questions that they'd pelted at him; slowly, surely a real picture of Jackson Teller - which had been so clouded for so long - finally emerged. Aunt Margaret had referred to their father as a "complicated man" - talk about a fucking understatement. Listening to Bobby, it's clear that this old man had loved their old man. "I'd known your dad since he was a little kid in grade school…he grew into the best person I ever knew." In the past hour, he's regaled them with stories about their dad, portraying a man who'd been loyal, smart as hell, a great leader and absolutely in love with his wife.
"I remember the day your dad first brought her to the Clubhouse. He'd just turned sixteen, but anyone could tell that she was the one…he couldn't stop looking at her, couldn't stop smiling…Just like the day they got married."
But then there'd been another side to Jax Teller - an outlaw who ran guns, muled drugs, beat the shit out of people and yes - when necessary, killed. Bobby didn't outright say it, but he hinted that Jax even killed his own mother after finding out that the bitch murdered his wife. By the mix of fury and satisfaction on Abel's face, Thomas could tell that his brother would've done the same. Shit, so would he - a million times over.
"How did Gemma die?" Abel demands to know. "No one could tell us…That bitch stabbed our mother in the head. Don't tell me she went out fast or easy." Thomas shoots another glance at Abel, a little surprised at the good doctor's blood thirstiness. He knows for a fact that Abel's never backed down from a fight - that he could take down anyone with his black belt karate and mean right hook. But Thomas' never known his brother to have a violent or vicious bone in his body…apparently there was one exception.
Even from his profile, Thomas can see Bobby's forehead wrinkling, as if trying to decide how much to tell them; truth must've won out because what the man tells them makes Thomas' jaw drop and his skin crawl. Christ, this wasn't in any of the news articles he'd read - Gemma slowly devoured by flesh-eating ants for days until she finally left for another hell…that's a whole lot of fucked-up. And a whole lot of justice.
"What about dad?" Thomas stares out the window at the deep ravines beyond the protective guardrails. "Did he really die in an accident?" He knows that he's picking at the scabs of his deepest wounds, but he's got to know.
Pulling the car over to the road shoulder, Bobby shifts the car into park - his brown eyes glancing at Abel before fixing on Thomas. "That was a real fucked-up day, Kid…" As the Bobby recounts the events around his kidnapping and rescue, Thomas can see from the pain in the old man's eyes that all of it still haunts him.
"Stockton PD and the Sanwa Sheriff blocked most of the story from getting out…they didn't want anyone knowing how deep the corruption went in the PD or how easy it'd been for us to break into the County evidence locker. They had some help from the state AG's office, the chief deputy strong-armed everyone else into keeping quiet. He wanted the public to believe your dad died in an accident - not because of some gunfight with a crooked cop."
Thomas and Abel exchange stunned glances. "Uncle Nick? He knew about this?" Thomas blurts out incredulously. "Why didn't he tell us?"
"Probably the same reason none of us said shit when the DA started asking questions," Bobby lights a cigarette that he probably shouldn't be smoking given his fragile state. "We didn't want anything to stop Margaret Murphy from taking you boys out of Charming - which could've happened if the whole goddamn story got out and blew up in the media. Reese was afraid that the DA, or some other shithead politician, would try and block Murphy's guardianship to keep you boys in Charming for some shit political reason. And that's not what your dad had wanted…or your mom."
Thomas closes his eyes as the old, yet still painful guilt consumes him again - worse this time knowing that his dad had died, not from an accident, but from fighting the man who'd kidnapped him.
"Damn it, Tommy…It's not your fault." Abel - always the protective older brother - punches his arm. Hard. "How many times do we have to tell you? For fuck's sake, you were a baby…a baby strapped to a car seat. There's nothing you could've done to stop it."
Bobby's eyes widen in disbelief. "Listen to your brother, Kid. Barosky was bat shit crazy; even if someone had stopped him from kidnapping you, he would've done something else to try and get at your dad. Besides, you're missing an important point…your dad went after him after we found you. You were already safe and on the way back to town…"
Scratching his beard, the old man lets out a deep sigh. "I never talked about this to anyone, not sure I can even explain it right - but I guess you both deserve to know what was in his head…First, you gotta understand - your dad loved you boys. He wanted so much for the both of you…which is why he fought like hell to turn the Club legit and earn clean - so that he could give you a legacy that wasn't tainted, like the one he got.
"But when your mom was killed, everything just stopped for him because...well, if you ask me…he died with her. She was a big part of him; had been since they were kids. I never saw anything like it - the way those two loved each other. With her - he had a vision, dreams…a future. But after she died, he was just so lost…You could see it in his eyes. All he cared about was avenging her murder and getting you boys out of town 'cause that's what she'd wanted. He didn't really see a future for himself beyond that…"
Bobby looks down at the wheel, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. "He didn't have to go after Barosky - you boys were safe - the fucking Sheriff could've taken down that prick eventually…he had no money, no drugs to sell, no more connections. But Jax knew he couldn't make it in this life without her; it's why he'd had the guardianship papers ready for Margaret Murphy, why he'd asked Nick Reese to help her get a job far away from Charming."
"Wait a goddamn minute…are you saying what I think you're saying?" Thomas flicks a glance at Abel - who looks as fucking horror-struck as Thomas feels - before narrowing his eyes at Bobby.
The old man shakes his head then turns to pin both brothers with a hard gaze. "Kenny's old man, Opie, was your dad's best friend. He never got over losing his first wife, Donna - Kenny and his sister's mom. Tried to make it work…but he was just lost. A few years later, Opie got killed in prison - sacrificing himself for his Brothers. He'd been looking for an out, and he got one."
Revving the engine, Bobby steers back onto the main road. "I'm not sayin' your dad killed himself - he'd never do that. But going after Barosky the way he did…maybe he saw an out - a chance to be with her again - and he took it."
Watching in silence as Bobby drives on to the Wahewa Reservation, Thomas tries to calm his brain rocketing into overdrive. Shit, it's been a lot to fucking take in…but they'd wanted to know more about their dad, and now they do. Strange though, he's not even the slightest bit angry that his dad might've chosen death over raising him and Abel. As much as he wishes he could've known Jax Teller, Thomas can't regret the perfectly fitting details of his life - Abel, the Murphy family, Uncle Nick, all of his friends…Rachel and their sweet baby Tara.
If his dad had led them out of Charming, there's no guarantee they would've wound up in Baltimore - no guarantee that he would've met Rachel. Thomas doesn't ever want to imagine such a life…not ever. So yeah, he can definitely understand the choice his dad made after losing the woman he loved more than anything…no doubt, Thomas would do the same
As Bobby announces their arrival and parks the car, Thomas peers at Abel through the passenger mirror. He'd also been silent since Bobby dropped his bombshell about their dad's death - but whatever worry Thomas might've had about Abel's reaction disappears as his brother smiles at him, not a trace of anger or hurt in those blue eyes. Grinning back at the best friend a guy could have, Thomas realizes that Abel would also understand their father's decision but for a different reason entirely - Tara, their mother whom Abel had adored, wouldn't be alone.
"Jax used to get special permission from the Wahewa chief to bring your mom here; it's been their place since they were kids in high school…where they'd go to get away from everything." Bobby jumps out of the van and leads them across the meadow to a neat, lushly green clearing at the base of the small mountain.
Surrounded by trees and a tranquil blue lake, Thomas could see why his parents had loved this special spot. Admiring the view, he blinks - once, twice, three times - to make sure he's not imagining shit…but no, he can see them, partially hidden by the trees, but definitely there. His mom and dad - Jax and Tara - with their arms wrapped around each other, her head on his shoulder as they smile lovingly at him.
"It's beautiful…I can see why they loved coming here." Abel's voice pierces the quiet. "But you want to tell us what we're doing here?"
Thomas whirls around to stare at his brother in surprise; apparently Abel hadn't seen them. But before he can say anything, Bobby directs their attention to the ground beneath a sprawling valley oak tree.
"After your dad died, his lawyer told us that he wanted his ashes put into your mother's urn and buried here…I thought you might want to visit…I know they'd want to see the two of you." The old man slowly drops to his knees then pats the small stone grave marker embedded in the grass.
Jax & Tara
Standing next to his brother, Thomas gazes down at the simple plaque until wetness blurs his vision. Like Bobby, he also drops to his knees then presses a kiss to the smooth stone. How is it possible to miss his parents so much when he never really knew them? But then again - thinking about all the family pictures, all of the stories recounted by Abel, the Murphys, Uncle Nick and, today, listening to Bobby…maybe he knows them after all.
"You should write a book about all this," Bobby suggests.
Thomas feels Abel's hand squeeze his shoulder. "Maybe, I will," he answers, rising to his feet. Glancing at Abel, Thomas' stunned to see the tears in his blue eyes as he stares intently at something in the trees. He can't remember the last time he'd seen his big brother cry.
"You'd write a book about life in a motorcycle club?" Bobby's eyes start to close sleepily as he leans against the oak tree. "I'd read it."
"No…" Draping his arm around Abel's shoulders, Thomas mirrors his brother's broad grin as they watch their father press a kiss to their mother's forehead. "…about love."
*from Burning Down the House: Essays on Fiction by Charles Baxter