Justin heads for Vanderbilt, leaving Brian behind. Is it permanent, however?
Three Hours Later - Near Nashville...
Jennifer glanced over at her son sitting by the passenger window; normally a non-stop chatterbox when he was excited, Justin had been mainly silent during their ride, either gazing downward at his clasped hands in his lap, or answering his parents with short, clipped, yes or no responses, and only when urged to speak. Any other time they wouldn't have been able to shut Justin up - he had been dreaming of this day for so long - but for the past three hours their son had been noticeably withdrawn. She sighed imperceptibly, reaching over to grasp his wrist to get his attention. "Almost there, Sweetheart," she told him, trying to offer him a smile of encouragement. "We were really lucky to get Vic's help in finding you a place to live off-campus nearby." She bit back a sigh and shook her head slightly in frustration as Justin remained stonily silent. "Honey, surely you're excited about this. It's going to be such an amazing adventure for you! Don't you see that?"
Justin's emotions were all over the place at the moment. He had missed Brian practically from the second they had parted, and he knew that wasn't going to change. But if he were honest with himself, part of him was excited; excited, but also nervous. Except for his trips to Red Mill and a few other racing tracks, this would be the first time he had really ventured beyond his comfort zone. Not only that. He would be here on his own, making his own decisions, and having his own freedom to do what he wanted, when he wanted. Not that he felt especially smothered at home - his parents for the most part wouldn't be what he would call constrictive or overly strict - but for the first time in his life, he would be the one calling the shots. He was becoming an adult, and now he could prove that he was up to the task. That still didn't mean he did not feel his separation from the boy he loved profoundly, though. How he would be handle that, he still didn't know. Would he feel better in a week or two? A month? A year? Perhaps. But he would never stop loving him, no matter what. He knew that Brian wanted him to be happy. But would he ever truly be happy separated from him? He closed his eyes briefly, realizing he had never answered his mother's question, before he turned to look at her as if fully acknowledging her presence for the first time since they had left.
"I...I guess so," he told her finally, a weak smile on his face. Craig peered over at him, meeting Jennifer's eyes with a slight nod of satisfaction that she was apparently finally getting through to their son.
Jennifer reassured Justin with a relieved smile of her own. "Everything will be all right, Honey. You'll see." Knowing what was uppermost on her son's mind, she added softly, "And you'll see him a lot. And you can stay in touch in between times."
Justin nodded, the inference to Brian causing a stab to his heart. "Maybe," he told her as he turned to glance out the window at the passing scenery as they neared the outskirts of Nashville. "But it won't be the same." He turned to peer over into his mother's face, her brow wrinkled with concern as her blue eyes looked back him sympathetically. "I'll make the best of it," he finally told her as she nodded.
"We know you will...right, Craig?" she added, arching one eyebrow expectantly at her husband.
Craig paused for a few moments before he nodded. "Yeah...we know you'll do well, Son," he told Justin. At least scholastically, he thought to himself. Emotionally, he wasn't sure. But perhaps being on his own might be good for his son. He wondered at times how much of an influence the Walker's nephew had on his son's actions. Not that he hadn't come to grudgingly respect how Brian seemed to have matured since he had arrived. And he had no doubt that Brian felt deeply for his and Jennifer's son, and would do all he could to protect him. But maybe it would be good for them to be apart, at least temporarily. Even he knew it was time for his youngest son to leave the nest and fly on his own. "Justin, this is your dream," he told him. "This is what you have always wanted; don't let your talent go to waste." He paused for a moment before adding, "...and if it is the real thing...it will still be there...just like it is with your mom and me."
Jennifer's eyes widened slightly in surprise; Craig never had been the sentimental type, or one to openly express his commitment to her, so she treasured each rare instance when he did. She smiled warmly at him, earning a shrug in return and a faint smile. "He's right, Justin. You'll see."
"It IS the 'real thing,' Dad," Justin spoke up, his voice clipped and just a bit defensive. "Just because I'm young doesn't mean I don't know what love is. And...I love him." He shook his head as if he couldn't understand why his father didn't fully believe that. Don't you get it? That's why it hurts so much. I wanted him here to share this with me." He sighed mournfully. "But that's not possible. Shit, I never thought this would happen. I thought if I ever got to go to Vanderbilt that I would be so happy."
Jennifer gazed at her softhearted son. "I guess this is bittersweet, then...isn't it?" She asked with a sympathetic smile as he nodded. "Well...look at it this way. Because Brian does love you, I know he would want you to be happy. And you know if you didn't give yourself this chance, you would never forgive yourself, and neither would Brian. Right?"
Justin had to admit that his mother had a point. He finally nodded reluctantly. "Right," he admitted. That didn't mean it made him feel particularly any better about being separated from Brian, but his mother was correct. He would want him to be happy. "Okay," he murmured at last. "I'll try to think about it as positively as I can." But God, I will miss you so much, Brian, he couldn't help thinking to himself. The ache in his heart was piercing and pronounced. He could only imagine what it would feel like after being apart for a longer time.
"That's a wise decision, Son," Craig told him as he exited the highway. "We'll be at the boarding house soon, and once you get all settled in, I'm sure you'll feel better." The skeptical look on his son's face, however, indicated he didn't quite believe that. "I've heard Vic talk about his sister for so long, I'm looking forward to meeting her," Craig added. Vic had spoken often of his sister, Debbie, for years now, and had shown him photos of both her and her house. Each fall she rented out a couple of rooms in her home for students at Vanderbilt, not only to gain a little additional income to supplant her occupation as a waitress, but - in Vic's words - to help her 'stay young.' Craig knew very little about her, apart from what Vic had told him. But from the stories and photos he had shown him, the woman appeared at the very least to be harmless...and just a bit eccentric, maybe even odd. Her clothing certainly indicated that. She seemed to have clothing with more sayings on it than the town's tattoo shop. But he trusted Vic implicitly, so if he said Debbie's home would be a good place for Justin to reside while at school, he believed him.
"Maybe," Justin mumbled doubtfully. He turned his head to gaze out the window at his surroundings. They were far different than the wide open spaces he was used to, although the neighborhood looked pleasant enough. He had heard Vic telling his father that his sister Debbie lived in an area called Hillsboro, a relatively short walk to Vanderbilt - or Vandy as he was learning people liked to call it. The area seemed rather charming with its shady streets and older homes, and as they drove down what seemed to be the main street, he couldn't help looking with some spark of interest at the small, unique-looking shops that bordered each side of the street, and what appeared to be a number of art galleries and supply stores. He made a mental note to check those out at the first opportunity, despite his present state of glumness.
"There," he heard his mother call out as she pointed to the left. "That's it. Elmwood Street." The street seemed to live up to its name, Justin noted, as they turned left onto an older neighborhood of well-kept homes, mainly Victorian in appearance, with rounded, front porches, elaborate scrollwork on the eaves, and some with even bay windows or turrets. He had to silently admit that the older, historical houses were both unique and charming, and the approximately half-acre lots helped him to not feel quite so boxed in as he assumed he would feel living in a dorm room on campus, or in some mundane-looking, brick apartment complex. He hadn't been very enthusiastic when his mother and father had informed him of their decision regarding his living arrangements - in fact, he had been somewhat miffed at the time that they hadn't consulted him - but as he looked at his surroundings he had to admit the area did appeal to him.
"Slow down, Craig," Jennifer urged her husband, reaching over to grip his wrist for emphasis. "I think we're getting close." She read off the house numbers from the front of each home, noting that Debbie's should be on the right, before finally spotting what they were looking for: #1285. "There! That one with the flower planters on the porch railing!" Jennifer smiled in delight. "Oh, Justin, it's lovely!" she gushed, spying two large Boston ferns hanging on either end of an expansive front porch, with large, round, white columns on either side of a wide set of stairs. She could see a leaded, front door, and white, wicker furniture on the porch, along with a white, wooden porch swing on the right side. The home was a two-story, with tall windows and a widow's walk on top. Neatly kept flower beds of various colorful varieties of annuals and perennials were planted on either side of the steps, and a wooden 'welcome' sign painted in rainbow-colors was hung vertically on the front door. The house looked warm and inviting, and nothing like a dorm residence. It made Jennifer's worry about her youngest son being so far away from home diminish just a bit as Craig steered their pickup and trailer over to the curb in front and parked it.
The three of them barely had time to emerge from the pickup truck before they heard the front door opening and banging shut, and a pleasingly plump woman with flaming red hair rushed outside and scampered down the steps. "There you are!" she exclaimed as she headed eagerly toward them. "Vic told me you were on the way!" She stopped in front of Justin first, eying him curiously. "Well, aren't you just the cutest little thing?" she chirped with a smile, reaching over to unexpectedly pinch his cheek like he was a newborn instead of a college freshman. "Emmett was right; you're fuckin' adorable!"
Justin blushed scarlet, hearing a gasp from both his parents over how comfortably Vic's sister used the 'f' word. Justin quickly decided he liked this woman, even if she WAS a cheek pincher. For the first time that day, he broke out into a smile in reaction to the stunned looks on his mother and father's faces.
"And what a smile!" Debbie declared. She glanced over at the horse trailer. "You had to bring your own horse with you? Shit, they must be hard up for money at Vandy! Well, I hate to break it to you, Sunshine, but I don't have a stable," she cackled.
"Uhh...no...it's got my things in it," Justin explained. "For my room."
"Your room?"
Justin nodded.
She snorted. "Honey, I rent out bedrooms, not the Taj Mahal! But I have a basement where you can store what doesn't fit." She peered over at Craig and Jennifer, who were still somewhat in shock over what she had said earlier. "So you're the mom and dad that Vic works for? The Taylors?"
They nodded at her, Jennifer the first one to find her voice. "Yes...I'm Justin's mom, Jennifer, and this is my husband, Craig."
Debbie stared at them intently, sizing them up. "Hmm...the way Vic described you, I thought you'd be a little older...and fatter!" she wisecracked. She quickly explained, "Emmett says he's gained at least ten pounds just from eating your gravy and biscuits...but he made sure to tell me that I still make the best ones here in Nashville!" she declared. "White gravy or brown?" she unexpectedly asked Jennifer as she tried to keep up with Debbie's rapid-fire conversational approach.
"Uhh..." Words seemed to escape Jennifer at the moment. This woman took a little getting used to, she thought. In fact, she decided she had never met anyone quite like her.
"Oh, never mind!" she told her, as she turned to peer back at Justin. "Let's get you settled in, kiddo; I'll show you where your room is." She paused briefly as the three of them remained standing in place. "Well? Open that trailer and toss me a lamp or something! Might as well take some stuff in as we go."
Justin couldn't help grinning over her enthusiasm as he reached inside the bed instead to unfasten one side of the rubber tie-downs and grab one of two lamps he had brought with him, handing one to Debbie.
"Give me the other one," she told him as she motioned with her hand. "I'm not made of glass, you know. I come from strong Italian stock."
Justin chuckled as he reached back inside and retrieved the other matching lamp to hand it to her, noticing the brightly colored fingernails she wore - they had little rainbows painted across them, along with some gold glitter. Debbie was unique to say the least, and he instantly liked her. Something told him that his 'landlord,' however, might prove to be somewhat of a mother hen ruling over her roost shortly. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, though.
"Grab a box or two and follow me," she instructed them, not waiting for a reply before she turned and marched back up the sidewalk toward the house, leaving Justin and his parents alone, figuratively scratching their heads as they tried to keep up with the whirlwind that had just departed. Justin shrugged at his mom and dad before doing as Debbie asked, walking over to open up the back of the truck bed and reaching for one of the cardboard boxes that held some of his art supplies. Grasping the fairly heavy box in both hands, he turned and trudged after Debbie, anxious to see what his new home for the indefinite future would look like. He turned just enough after taking a few steps to observe his father unlatching the back of the horse trailer, handing a box to his mother, before he followed Debbie up the wide porch steps, noticing she had propped open the leaded door with an antique, cast-iron Wedgewood dog.
Walking inside, his mouth hung open in awe as he took in his surroundings. The outside of the Victorian home could be considered stately and even dignified in appearance, but inside every nook and cranny was occupied by knickknacks of every sort, from souvenir china plates, to kitschy wall hangings from the Smoky Mountains, to Indian dream catchers...even teapots sitting on a built-in shelf in the kitchen that led off from the main entryway. On the opposite side was a sitting room of some sort, with more of the same, except everything appeared to have some sort of crocheted coaster under each item. It was like a tacky museum of sorts, or a tourist trap ran amok. He had never seen anything like it, except perhaps at the local county fair. But this put all their game booths to shame. Not a single space was left unoccupied, with the exception of where a person might sit. Thankfully, except for a colorful, crocheted throw over the back of the couch, and an occasional stuffed animal here and there (he decided Checkers would fit right at home here), the couch and chairs surrounding the room were blissfully bare.
"This way, Sunshine," Debbie urged him as she began to ascend the oak staircase directly ahead. A smooth, polished banister ran the length of the broad staircase toward the upstairs. Rolling his eyes over the nickname for him, Justin followed her instructions, glancing periodically over at the numerous family portraits hung on the wall next to the staircase, noticing a few photos of a very young Vic, and what had to be a gangly Emmett as a young child. He couldn't help laughing at one showing Emmett on top of what appeared to be a giant rabbit.
"That was Emmett when he was six," Debbie told him, pausing at the top of the steps as she observed Justin leaning in a little closer to examine the photo with a grin on his face. "The local mall was offering photos with the Easter Bunny. Right after they snapped his photo, he fell off the damn thing, and almost broke his own tail." She chortled, causing Justin to snicker in amusement despite himself. Continuing his walk, he stopped next to her near the top of the landing, both observing his parents entering the home with a box clutched in their hands.
"Up here," Debbie called down to them. "Last door at the end of the hall on the left," she instructed her newest tenant as she started to move in that direction, Justin following along closely behind her. He was inordinately curious now as to what his 'home-away-from-home' would look like. Would it, too, be full of tacky trinkets like the rest of the house he had seen? He hoped not. He would have enough trouble fitting in what he had brought with him. She walked in and placed the two lamps down on top of a long, wooden dresser to the left of the door. For the first time, as she turned around to face her Justin, she seemed a little unsure of herself. She smiled at him as she placed her hands on her hips. "I hope you'll be comfortable here, Justin. It's nothing fancy...but it's safe here. And you'll be treated like family." She studied him so intensely before speaking again that Justin felt his face warming over her scrutiny. "Vic thinks a lot of you...so you must be something special."
Jennifer stood in the doorway listening to Debbie speaking to her son, her voice unexpectedly soft and tender, and she instantly felt a sense of relief wash over her. She glanced over at Craig and nodded at him in approval, their concerns about leaving their youngest son here dissipating somewhat.
The room was surprisingly uncluttered, considering the lower level's appearance. Oh, there were some macramé hangings on the wall, and some mass-produced artwork scattered about as well (Justin would have great difficulty in describing them as anything even approaching artistic, however), and the garishly colored coverlet on top of the double-sized bed was somewhat faded. But the room was clean, spacious, and very bright by virtue of the two tall windows that faced the afternoon sun. To his delight, there was even a small, curved cove that jutted out under the windows that would be a perfect place for setting up his easel for painting. He could already feel his hands itching at the mere thought of being able to use it for his art, and it made his heart speed up in anticipation and a smile break out on his face.
As if reading his mind, Debbie revealed, "I've never had an art student renting from me. But I thought that space over there might give you some good light for painting. She grinned as she explained, "Your paintings should dry pretty quickly, too, because there's enough air that escapes through the cracks to dry a fucking igloo!" Justin covered his mouth with his hand to keep from outright laughing; he didn't know if he was more amused by what Debbie had just said, or by the astonished looks on his parents' faces over her continued use of 'colorful' language. "Oh, but not to worry," Debbie continued nonplussed. "Vic said he'll come visit soon and put some more caulking around them...but only if I fix his favorite meal...lasagna with meat sauce, tri-color pasta salad, and homemade garlic bread. You like Italian cooking, Sunshine?" Debbie asked Justin. "Because if you don't, I'll have to kick your perky little bubble butt out of here, and that would be a real shame; we need someone to brighten things up more around here." She shook her head in irritation. "Too much rain lately! I can't get into my tomato patch in the backyard!"
"Uhh...I don't think I've ever had any Italian food before," Justin told her sheepishly, earning an almost insulted expression from the red-haired woman. Her large hoop earrings swung back and forth as she cried out, aghast, "You've never had any Italian cooking?!"
Justin shook his head, feeling his cheeks flushing over all the attention. They didn't exactly have a variety of dining choices where he lived, and his mother mainly cooked what would normally be called 'down home, Southern cooking.'
"Shit!" Debbie muttered. "We'll have to fix that! You're not one of those weirdo vegetarians, are you? Like a tofu eater or something?"
Justin frowned. "What's tofu?"
Debbie crossed herself and gazed upward. "Thank St. Francis! There's hope yet. At least he likes meat." Her eyes drifted back over to her young tenant. "You DO eat meat, right?"
Justin smiled. "Sure. I love fried chicken. Mom makes the best fried chicken in all of Kentucky! And liver and onions, too."
That earned a proud smile from Jennifer, even though she was silently questioning the wisdom of leaving their impressionable youngest child with someone like Debbie Novotny. Vic was a pussycat compared to this steamroller! And her language. She had heard more profanity come out of this woman's mouth in the past five minutes than she had used herself in the last five years. But she seemed kind, and she was making her son's mood lift somewhat. That accounted for something.
"Well, I'll let you all get unpacked while I'm fixing dinner," Debbie told them. She waggled a fingernail at Craig and Jennifer. "And you are staying for lunch, too. I don't have another renter yet, and I fix way too much food as it is. I have a feeling you don't eat a lot of Italian food, either, do you?"
Jennifer shook her head. "No," she admitted. "Uh...That's very kind of you, Mrs. Novotny, but..."
"Debbie," their hostess instantly corrected her. "My mother was Mrs. Novotny. I don't plan on letting anyone call me that until I'm at least 80!" she declared firmly. "Now go bring up the rest of Sunshine's stuff here, and by the time you're done I'll have lunch ready for all of us. I promised Vic I'd send some of my lemon bars back with you, too, or he'll never forgive me. Don't let me forget."
"We have a three-hour drive back," Craig spoke up then. "We can just pick something up on the way back home." Craig, too, was wondering just what they had gotten themselves into. He trusted Vic's judgment, but this woman was totally different than her brother. Perhaps she was adopted, he decided. At either rate, this brash female version of a sailor was not what he had expected. What sort of influence would she have on their son?
"Nonsense," Debbie retorted. "What? Pick up some cardboard-tasting burger along the way? It'll take me no time at all to whip something up! I insist. Besides, I already have it started." She turned to head out of the room, calling out, "If all of it doesn't fit, basement door is on your right as you came in! Fifteen minutes!"
Craig's mouth opened to protest, but she was gone before he had the chance. He peered over at Jennifer with concern. "She is nothing like I imagined," he told his wife, who nodded back at him. "And the profanity!" He sighed. "Maybe we should find somewhere else for Justin to..."
"No!" Justin interrupted. "I like it here! It'll be fine, Dad!" It was the most animated either parent had seen Justin since they had left the farm.
"Justin, I'm concerned about what sort of influence she might have on you. You'll need to study and concentrate on your program. This woman seems like she would be at the very least a big distraction."
Justin huffed in exasperation. "Dad, come on! It's Vic's sister! We've known him for years! He wouldn't recommend my staying here if he had any doubts about it. Besides, I'll be doing most of my studying at the library anyway. And I'll have my own room! You think she's going to just barge in here?"
Craig shrugged. "With this lady? Who knows?" He sighed as Jennifer gave him a long-suffering look. "I just don't want anything to happen to prevent you from being successful in your studies. You've wanted this for so long..."
"I know that! I won't waste this chance," Justin assured him, his voice a little sharp. He was more aggravated at the moment with his father's skepticism than upset over his separation from Brian. He thought he could see his parents relenting just a bit, however.
"Craig, it would be hard, if not impossible, to find anywhere else for Justin to stay that is clean and reasonable at this point," Jennifer stated. "Two weeks before the start of school? And this is supposed to be one of the safest neighborhoods near the college. And within walking distance." Yes, Debbie seemed quite over-the-top and just a bit crass. But Vic had told them numerous stories over the years of how his sister had helped take care of him when he had needed financial help, or when he had been injured in a riding accident at the track, forcing him to need around-the-clock care until he had recovered. It was obvious that Vic loved his sister dearly, and held her in high regard. Her fears began to subside as she considered all the facts. Her mind made up, she told her husband, "Justin has good judgment. He has been brought up the way we feel he should live his life, and he has excellent common sense. We have to trust him now that he will remember what he has been taught, and act accordingly. I think he'll be just fine here." She smiled over at her son as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Now what do you say we finish getting him unpacked, and then take Debbie up on her generous offer for lunch before we head back?"
Craig opened his mouth, only to shut it again, finding it hard to refute his wife's words. He sighed as he held up his hands and dropped them against his side in capitulation. "Okay," he agreed. "But you have to promise us, Justin. If anything happens to affect your ability to concentrate on your studies - or if your grades begin to slip because of your staying here - you will let us know so we can make other arrangements for you."
Justin had to bite his tongue to keep from issuing the stinging retort he wanted to say. When would his parents begin to treat him as an adult? "Dad, I'll be fine. But if it makes a difference, then okay. I promise. But it will not be a problem," he assured him, as he gazed around the room with its splash of light flooding the space, the tall ceiling, and homey touches. It wasn't the fanciest of places, but it had charm and character, much more than he knew a typical dorm room would have. "I've waited far too long for this to mess it up now. And I like it here," he told them simply.
Craig rubbed the back of head in contemplation as his wife and son stared over at him expectantly, the pregnant pause almost like stagnant air settling in the room. He sighed heavily. "Well? Justin's stuff won't carry itself into the house...and if we're going to stay for lunch, too, we'd best get the rest of everything moved."
Justin grinned at his father - knowing he had won this battle, at least temporarily - and Craig grunted in resignation. He still wasn't sure about this arrangement, but two against one? He knew he had no chance of winning this argument, especially when Justin was determined to get his way. And for whatever reason, the sullen, glum young man he had driven here had unexpectedly come back to life somewhat now, and he did not want to discourage that change. He shook his head, following his wife and son back down the hallway and then the the steps, silently grumbling that this place had no elevator. He suspected he was about to get more of a workout than he normally did on the farm.
One Hour Later...
Jennifer wiped her mouth with a gingham, red-and-white napkin before setting it down beside her now empty plate. Debbie hadn't been kidding; she was an incredible cook. She had virtually made a pig out of herself, but she peered over in surprise over at her son, who normally would have been on his second helping; especially with a dish as delicious as this one. But he was merely picking at his food, swirling strands of the pasta around in the marinara sauce, his face averted downward. His previous happy mood had evaporated, and the previous crestfallen expression had returned. She didn't have to be an expert in psychology to know what - or who - her son was thinking about. She glanced over at their hostess, who was returning to their table with a pitcher of tea and some of the lemon bars she had mentioned earlier that were one of Vic's favorite desserts.
"Debbie, that was an amazing lunch," Jennifer commented as the other woman beamed in response to her compliment. "And you're right. Your cooking puts a drive-through hamburger to shame."
"I'm glad you liked it," Debbie told her. "Try one of my lemon bars," she encouraged her, placing a china plate of them down in the center of the table. "More sweet tea? I can fix you some coffee if you like."
"No...thank you, Debbie," Craig spoke up, peering over at his son. He, too, had noticed that Justin had reverted back to his previous state. "We really do have to get going, or it will be dark before we can get home. I'd rather get back while it's still light out. Too many chances of running into a deer on the roads. Even a cow where we live. You'd be surprised how many get loose out in the country."
"Craig's right," Jennifer told her regretfully as both of them scooted back from their chairs. "We really do need to get back." Justin peered up at her then as she stood up. She had been dreading this moment; it would be the first time she had been separated for any length of time from Justin, and while she had vowed not to be one of those intrusive, 'helicopter' parents, she suddenly felt overwhelmed that soon she would have to say goodbye to her youngest son. How had time flown by so quickly? When did Justin become a man? In some ways, he was more mature and adult than his older brother, and perhaps he always would be.
She turned to face her son, who had pushed back from his own chair. "Justin? Walk us out to the truck?" He nodded as she reached to grip his shoulder and walked with him a little behind Craig toward the front door, each step one moment closer to the inevitable. For just a flicker in time, she questioned if this was the right move for Justin. He had never really been away from home, he felt comfortable on the farm...and he was in love. Or so he thought. Deep down, she believed it. She had seen her son and Brian together enough to recognize love. It was clearly something more than a passing infatuation. But would it stand the test of time? She didn't know. But she did know this was Justin's dream. It had been for a long time, and that while he was a very tenderhearted person and still so very young, she also knew that he was intelligent, inquisitive, and self-sufficient. He would manage here on his own. He also had Debbie's help and guidance as he adjusted to his new world. It was their turn to let him go. To let him see what a difference he could make in this world. And she had no doubt that he would.
As they walked down the steps - Debbie eying them curiously from the porch - they huddled near the truck, each one unclear what to do or say. They all knew what had to be done. But until now, each hadn't realized how very hard it would be.
For Craig, it was perhaps a little easier. While Debbie was eccentric, by now he had decided she was well-intentioned and harmless, despite her salty language. And his son's room - once they had moved in what he wanted from the trailer - was quite roomy, and now looked more like Justin's room back home. The corner with the light streaming in would be perfect for him to further enhance his art skills. He could see his son curled up on the window seat, too, sketching or doing his homework. Perhaps reading a book. He would miss his son terribly. But he had been raised to 'be a man;' to hold his emotions in check. To be the strong one. And he would be - for Jennifer's sake. Only in the confines of the farm - when he was alone - would he truly allow himself to feel the loss of his son's company, and to openly consider his worry for him. For now, however, it was more important he support his wife. He reached to grasp his son's hand in a handshake. "Don't forget to stay in touch with us on a regular basis, Justin." His son nodded as he added more softly, "I'm sure you'll make us proud." He paused for a moment before he corrected himself. "You have always made us proud."
Justin's eyes teared up; it wasn't often that his father expressed such things. He tugged on his father's hand until he fell into an embrace with him, feeling his father's arms slide around his back to hold him close; it was much like he had done when he had been a child and had scraped his knee from falling off a horse, or he had come crying into the barn when a bull had scared him. It had been a long time since his father had held him this way; but as he closed his eyes, all the good memories came flooding back, and he blinked back tears and swallowed to try and compose himself.
Finally, father and son pulled away as Justin nodded, receiving a similar nod from his father. "Have a safe drive home, Dad," he murmured as Craig opened the truck's driver's side door and slid inside, rolling down the window as he waited for Jennifer to say goodbye to their son. "Jen...we have to go," he entreated her, mindful of the late afternoon sun beginning to wane.
She nodded at her husband before she turned to face her son. "I...I knew this wasn't going to be easy," she whispered in a choked up voice. She bit her upper lip to try and quell the tears that began to fall, but it was useless. "Oh, Honey, I'm going to miss you so much!" she cried out as she pulled him into a hug of her own, holding him tightly against her body. The two just stood there for several moments, neither talking as they continued to embrace. She could hear her son sniffling as she finally raised her head to peer into his tear-stained face. She forced a smile on her own face as she whispered, "You will have the best experience of your life here, Justin! And the things you will accomplish...Craig is right. We ARE proud of you." She reached up to brush some tears away from his cheeks as she added, "And we love you so very much."
Justin pressed his lips tightly together to try and stop the tears, the stabbing feeling in his throat even more pronounced now. "I love you, too, Mom." He looked over at his father as he clarified, feeling a little awkward, "Both of you." He had been taught over the years that a man didn't so openly express his emotions, but he felt they needed to know that, whether it was 'manly' or not.
"Please, though, Sweetheart. Promise both of us that you will take the necessary precautions to stay safe here. And we expect regular contact. Every day."
"Mom..." Justin groaned. "I'm not some little kid; I'll be fine." He glanced up at the porch to see Debbie now rocking back and forth on her swing; unfortunately, that only reminded him of all the times he and Brian had done the same exact thing...while their hands and their lips were fully occupied. He shook his slightly in an attempt to try and remove that image from his mind, but he knew he would never, could never forget Brian. Brian. God, just the name in his mind made his heart ache with longing. How was he ever going to get through this without Brian? And without him here, all of this was only half the adventure it should be. And now he had to say goodbye to his mother and father, too. He was looking forward to what lay ahead in some ways. But he was also sad. And suddenly feeling very alone.
He took a deep, shuddery breath and let it out before turning his head to stare into his mom's eyes. "But I am going to miss you, Mom," he told her softly, smiling as he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. .
With great reluctance, Jennifer dropped her hands to her side, knowing she had to let go - not only physically, but also emotionally. "Well...we're going to go now," she told him, pasting a smile she didn't really feel on her face. "You be careful. And...And we expect you to be home for Thanksgiving. No arguments." Justin smiled faintly, nodding his head. To Jennifer, it felt like an eternity to her at the moment before that holiday would arrive. "But don't think we won't be back to visit before then," she corrected herself, a stern look on her face. "You won't get rid of us that easily, mister."
"I didn't think so," he told her wryly. He knew his mother, especially, wouldn't be content to just stay away until he could make it home for Thanksgiving break. He didn't want to admit it to his mom, but silently he was glad. He wanted some autonomy. But he didn't want to cut ties altogether with his parents or his previous life while he adjusted to his new one here. His new life without Brian. "Mom, go on home," he urged her softly. "I...I think I could use some time alone now to get situated."
Jennifer tried to understand the emotions that must be swirling through her son's mind. She wouldn't pretend to know what he was feeling. But she knew there would be an adjustment period for all of them. Standing still for a few moments longer as if she were memorizing her youngest son's features, she finally turned and walked around to the other side of the pickup truck to open the passenger door and slide inside besides Craig.
Justin stepped back slightly from the curb as both parents peered over at him one last time. They both waved at him as Justin did the same, forcing another small smile of assurance on his face. "Bye," he called out to them. "Call me when you get home so I know you got home okay."
"We're the parents, remember?" Jennifer teased him as Justin couldn't help grinning. "We will," she promised him, and with one, final look at their son, Craig put the truck in gear as they slowly pulled away from the curb with the trailer in tow. Justin stood there until they were out of sight, before he finally turned and trudged back up the steps to the porch where Debbie was now standing, waiting for him.
She offered him a sympathetic smile, reaching to place her hand around his shoulders. "You'll be just fine, Kiddo," she told Justin. "I'll take good care of you...or Vic will have my balls...if I had any balls," she quipped with a chuckle, producing a small smile from her tenant. "Why don't you go upstairs now and rest for a while? I imagine you're kind of tired after your trip. There'll be plenty of time to unpack some more of your boxes later."
Justin nodded as he allowed Debbie to lead him back into the house; she gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze before he climbed the wooden steps alone and headed toward his room. As he opened the door and walked inside, he shuffled over to the bed and sat down on the side of it, emotionally drained as well as physically weary. Within minutes, he was sound asleep, his dreams concentrated upon a certain, tall, handsome boy located hundreds of miles away.
One Week Later...Walker Farm
Will shook his head at the breakfast table as he gazed at the check he was holding in his hands. "Unbelievable," he mumbled. "Twenty thousand dollars for a stud fee for one horse?" When Vic had approached him with the idea of allowing his friend to use True Blue for breeding purposes, he never in his most vivid of imaginations would have thought he would pay such a large amount for that privilege. But Vic could be quite persuasive when he wanted to be - and when he believed in something - and despite the man being Vic's old sulky racing buddy, he still pulled no punches when it came to demanding a high, but fair stud fee. In addition, the man had agreed to practice frequently with the horse with the goal of eventually placing him back on the horseracing circuit, claiming his own son would be the perfect sulky driver for him. That remained to be seen, but Will couldn't deny that the check he currently peered at would help to keep the farm running for some time - and allow for some repairs as well.
Brian had insisted on helping with some initial, more urgent repairs, such as having a new roof placed on the house, and repairing a leaking water line in the kitchen. But Will - being as proud as he was - had denied him the ability to help any further financially, feeling that between the stud fees they would receive, and a cut eventually of whatever winning fees True Blue would accrue, they would be able to comfortably afford to properly maintain their home at last. Since Dale had died, he had allowed the farm to deteriorate. Nothing had really seemed to matter back then; he had been in way too much pain to even consider making the needed improvements to their home.
But now - thanks in no small part to their nephew, who had breathed new life into the farm - he felt the desire to make a number of much-needed improvements, and Sarah was wholeheartedly in support of it. In addition, he had decided to assist with some of the improvements himself - along with Brian, who had proven to be a wiz at repairing a lot of things, not just his tractor - and he had found himself enjoying the time he had spent with him, and afterward, he had felt a vast sense of achievement. It reminded him a lot of the times he had spent with Dale, so it was bittersweet.
Sarah took her place next to him, setting a basket of freshly baked biscuits in the center of the table. "It is amazing," she admitted. "I had no idea that a horse's...uh..." Her face turned red as she thought of the correct word. "That the thought of someone's...offspring could be that valuable," she finally stated. She peered over at her nephew, who had been noticeably quiet. At least that last sentence had produced a slight smile of amusement from him, she noticed. But since Justin had left a week ago, he had not had much to say. He did whatever they asked of him with little protest. But his mood was substantially subdued nowadays. Her heart ached for him, because she knew how much he missed Justin. Each time Brian checked his email and received the same result (no response), she never had to ask him what his email said (or didn't say); the look of desolation and disappointment on his face told her all she needed to know, and it broke her heart just a little more for him. "Brian? A biscuit? They're still warm."
Brian shook his head as she held the basket out toward him. "No, thanks, Aunt Sarah. I'm not hungry." He placed his napkin onto the table before continuing. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to run upstairs and grab my work gloves. I forgot them earlier, and I know you want to work on the chicken coop today," he told his uncle.
"Haven't even had my second cup of coffee, Brian," his uncle grumbled. "No big hurry. Sit down for a spell and eat a little more." He studied his surly nephew. "You're getting too skinny, boy. You need to eat more!"
Brian abruptly pushed back from his chair, startling both his aunt and uncle. "I am NOT a 'Boy!'" he shouted at his uncle. "And I will choose what I do or do not eat!" Shoving his wooden chair away from his body almost violently, he stood there for a few seconds, shaking with anger and running his hand through his hair in agitation until he let out a deep breath to try and calm down.
"We're not your enemy, Honey," Sarah gently reminded him. "You know your uncle meant nothing by it. He's only concerned about you. And so am I." She studied the somber-looking young man with his eyes cast downward, knowing he regretted what he had just done. "Brian," she began softly. "Do you think Justin would want to see you like this?"
Brian's head jerked upward at the sound of the other boy's name. He opened his mouth - initially considering a snappy, resentful retort - before he realized that wasn't what he really wanted to do. He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "No," he conceded in a hoarse voice. "But I miss him so damn much, Aunt Sarah."
Sarah exchanged a look with her husband as she scooted back from her seat to walk over to face him. She knew that the two boys had been exchanging tons of emails and calls since Justin had left, but she also knew it would never be enough for their nephew - nor would it ever replace seeing him in person. She knew he missed the other boy terribly. "I know you do. I miss him, too. He's always brought such brightness with that smile of his - ever since he was just a small boy - and with his optimism. But both you and I know that Justin wouldn't have been happy here as a sulky driver for the rest of his life. I know he must miss you every bit as much as you miss him. But you also loved him enough to let him go for a while. And he will keep loving you, even while you're apart."
Brian sniffled, biting his lips as he struggled to prevent his emotions from overtaking him. "You're just saying that to make me feel better," he maintained. "Justin will find someone else eventually...and I'll be left behind."
"Now I don't want to hear another word like that come out of your mouth, Brian Kinney," Will unexpectedly interrupted them as he set his coffee cup down with a slight bang, part of the contents sloshing out and landing on the tablecloth. "That boy loves you with every fiber of his being. Any durn fool can see that. I know love when I see it. And you have it, and it's real. As real..." he struggled then for the right words; after all, this was not his normal topic of conversation, but he decided he was going to say it anyway; emotions be damned. "...as real as the love between Missy here and me. So give the boy some credit, Brian. I don't ever want to hear any more foolishness like that again; do you understand me?" He arched an eyebrow sternly at his nephew, who stared back at him sheepishly.
"Yes, Sir. I understand," he told him politely this time, his demeanor much different now.
Will nodded as Sarah grinned, deciding she didn't need to say anything else herself. Will had pretty much said it all. "Good. I'm glad that's settled. Well, then...you'd best be getting those gloves. That wire will cut right through your skin if you're not wearing protection."
Brian nodded back at him before turning around and heading down the hallway toward the steps. He paused at the bottom of them, wondering what had just happened here, before he shook his head and began his way upstairs.
Heading into his room, he grabbed his gloves off the dresser and turned to go; spying his laptop over on the desk, he felt the urge to go over and check his email - again. He had to stop doing this to himself, he thought. But he couldn't help it. Bringing the computer out of 'sleep' mode, he logged in and clicked on his inbox to check his mail.
A Few Minutes Later...
"Aunt Sarah! Uncle Will! Get up here! Quick!"
"What in the tarnation?" Will responded with concern. He could tell by Brian's voice that something had happened. "What now?" he asked Sarah, who merely shrugged. Both rushed down the hallway and hurried up the stairs to see what was wrong.
"Brian! What is it?" Sarah shouted as they reached the top of the steps.
"Hurry!" Brian yelled. "Oh, shit!" he cried out in shock, not even thinking about the words coming out of his mouth. He was too busy staring at the computer screen to make sure he wasn't dreaming what he was reading. But to his relief, the words didn't change. Nor did the ramifications of what it meant.
Will frowned briefly over the use of Brian's choice of vocabulary, but his consternation disappeared the moment he and Sarah reached their nephew's bedroom. One look at Brian's face - and they knew exactly why he had called them upstairs.
Sarah smiled in reaction to the ecstatic look on her nephew's face, her heart soaring but aching at the same time.
Walker Farm - Evening
Standing under the porch lights, Sarah watched her husband and nephew haul the reminder of what Brian was taking to Vanderbilt into the back of the small U-Hail trailer, the metal gleaming underneath the security lamp overhead that had just come on, signaling the beginning of darkness. Brian wasn't taking much; Vic had told them that the room came furnished, so there wasn't much point. But there was one important thing he was taking with him: her heart. Now she realized how Brian must have felt a week ago when Justin was getting ready to leave.
Once Brian had received notice of his acceptance to Vanderbilt, he had accomplished seemingly impossible things in record time. There was no waiting a day to depart; the boy had been determined to leave today, and she knew when Brian set his mind on doing something, there was nothing that would stop him. He had convinced his uncle to drive him into town to help find him a reliable, used SUV that he had purchased for cash after stopping at the local bank...and had gotten it licensed and insured in record time with the help of the dealer he bought it from - along with a generous 'bonus' for doing so.
Once he had accomplished that, he had wasted no time returning, flinging the doors and trunk of the SUV open as soon as he returned, and throwing the things he wanted to take with him inside like a man possessed. It engendered all sorts of emotions inside Sarah as she watched him: happiness for this young man who would soon be reunited with the boy he loved so deeply, pride over what he had accomplished during the time he had been here, gratitude for the changes he had produced in Will...but also sadness. Sadness that she wouldn't get to see his face each morning at breakfast, or watch him tinkering on one of his uncle's cranky, uncooperative pieces of farm equipment, which had been both practical but also soothing for her husband, who had felt Dale's death even more deeply than she.
Speaking of Will - who was presently helping Brian lift a heavy box into the SUV - she knew he likely wouldn't say it out loud, but she knew he would miss Brian's presence most of all. Brian had promised he would come back and visit frequently, however, on his breaks - along with Justin, of course. The depressed, sullen young man who had resided with them this past week had been totally transformed now - simply with the click of a mouse button.
She watched as the doors to the SUV slammed shut with a resounding clang as Will and Brian turned and headed up the walkway together, Will's hand resting on Brian's shoulder. It was a simple gesture, but spoke volumes to Sarah. She forced herself to place a smile on her face as she asked her nephew, "Are you sure you have everything, Brian?"
Brian nodded, his voice animated as he replied, "I think so. If I don't, I'll either pick it up in town, or have it delivered to me." He stood there, listening to the familiar sounds of the farm he had grown to love for the past couple of years, and gazed at his aunt and uncle, who were now standing side-by-side. His eyes watered as he told them, "I can never thank you enough for everything you've done for me." He swallowed, choked up. "I'm going to miss your homemade pies and biscuits, Aunt Sarah," he told her, trying to lighten the mood.
She smiled. "I'll be sure to make them for breakfast the first day you come back home." And she knew it really was home to Brian.
He nodded, turning his attention then to his uncle; his gruff, no-nonsense, wonderful uncle. "Keep those machines oiled until I get back home, Uncle Will," he told him. "And don't forget to feed Solomon - but not those chicken bones. They'll splinter, and get caught in his throat. He likes Aunt Sarah's ham bones the best." He had no idea where the dog even was at the moment. But damn, he was even going to miss that pooch, too.
Will nodded, knowing what Brian was really trying to say. What he was trying to say himself, but couldn't quite accomplish. "I will," he told him softly. "I'll expect you to give them a good looking over the first day you get back."
Brian smiled with a nod of his own, looking around at the farm, noticing the sun sinking below the horizon as nighttime quickly approached. The night that was always so starry, quiet, and soothing. He had never thought he would appreciate the simple, uncomplicated nature of this farm. But now that he was leaving it - he was excited, yes, but he was also feeling homesick already. He forced a smile on his face. "I'll be back to visit before you know it. And Vic promised he would bring you to visit me soon, too. And Emmett will help you whenever you need him."
Sarah smiled; her nephew was always trying to look out for them - and she loved him for that and so much more. "It's okay, Brian," she reassured him, sensing he needed to hear that, or he wouldn't be able to leave. "We will be just fine, right, Will?"
Her husband nodded, surprised by how emotional he felt. It was almost like losing Dale all over again, but he knew it was also much different. This time, he knew this particular young man would only be gone temporarily. He cleared his throat. "We country people are very resilient, Brian," he told him firmly, like Sarah knowing it was important for him to reassure his nephew that they would be okay without him. "Emmett is a good boy. We'll make out fine. Sarah and I would be disappointed in you if you didn't go. You need this. But whenever you come home...the welcome mat will always be out for you." He swallowed hard to compose himself and put his stern façade back in place as he counseled his nephew, "I still say it would be best if you would wait until tomorrow when you have better light." But he knew he was wasting his breath; he realized that nothing would prevent this boy from traveling to Nashville tonight...and seeing Justin.
Just as he figured, Brian shook his head stubbornly. "It's not that dark yet, and it's only a three-hour drive," he pointed out. "And I have a GPS. It's a fairly straight shot down there. I'll be fine. Vic's already called his sister to let her know I'll be there tonight."
Will nodded, unsurprised. "Well, you best get going then. We expect to know when you get there."
"It could be pretty late..."
"We don't care what time it is," Sarah told him firmly, speaking up. "Neither one of us will sleep until we know you got there safely. Promise us, Brian."
Brian nodded at her fondly, touched by her concern. "I promise."
She nodded back in satisfaction, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "Well...I guess this is it, then," she told him, trying hard to sound cheerful, even as her heart was aching over their loss. "Tell Justin we expect big things from him. And don't forget to keep in touch! We want a daily call or email from you, young man."
Brian grinned. "Yes, Ma'am." He stood there, shuffling on his feet, as he stared at the two most important people in his life; except for Justin, that is. How unfair that they couldn't all be in the same place! But he knew this was part of growing up; part of spreading his wings, and seeing if he could fly. But that also didn't mean he wouldn't stop missing them. "I'll never forget what you did for me," he told the couple. "And you'll never get rid of me, either."
"We'd better not," his uncle told him gruffly. "It's hard to find a good machine mechanic around these parts. Especially one that works so cheap."
Brian laughed as he held out his hand toward Will. "Thank you for everything, Uncle Will. You'll never know what it meant to me." He felt a little awkward as he continued to hold out his hand when his uncle didn't reach out to grasp it.
Suddenly, he was grabbed by the wrist by his uncle, and swept into an embrace instead, his uncle's weathered hands gripping his back firmly. "Thank you, Brian," he whispered against his ear. "You'll always be part of this family. Don't ever forget that." Will pulled back then, a little embarrassed by his emotional display. He nodded curtly, releasing him, as Brian turned to face his aunt for one, final farewell.
She smiled a watery smile at the young man. "Goodbye, Honey. We love you. Come back soon and visit us. As soon as you can. We want to hear all about what happens to you."
Brian blinked, the tears flowing freely down his face now. "I will," he assured her, his voice barely above a whisper. He shook his head - almost convincing himself to change his mind - before he swept the petite woman up into a hug. "I'm going to miss you so much," he told her. The two remained hugging for several seconds until at last Brian pulled back from her, reaching over to brush some hair away from her face as Sarah used part of her half-apron to wipe her tears away.
Brian leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. "You're one special lady, Sarah Walker."
His aunt blushed profusely. "Brian..." she murmured, batting at him with her hand as if he were a fly. "Go now," she told him softly. "Leave before I get too sentimental."
"Good luck, Son," Will told his nephew with a nod. And with a final nod of his own, Brian turned and headed down the porch and out to his waiting vehicle, determined not to look back; it was hard enough to leave them. But as he slid behind the driver's wheel, he couldn't help glancing over at the two people who had become his family. His eyes tearing up, he gave them a small wave and a brave smile before putting the SUV into gear and slowly pulling away.
His aunt and uncle waved back at him with a similar smile of their own before Brian finally drove out of sight. It was only then that Sarah crumpled into her husband's arms and began to cry softly. "I'm so happy for Brian," she told Will in between sniffles, as he held her in his arms, and did his best to comfort her. "But I will miss him. More than he will ever know."
Will patted her back soothingly as he slowly rocked her back and forth in his arms. "He'll know, Missy. He'll know."
That Evening - Debbie's House - Midnight
"Okay, okay!" Debbie groused as she pulled her mint-green chenille robe tighter against her body, cinching it with the tie. "I'm coming! Do you know what time it is?" She sighed irascibly. When her brother had called her earlier today to ask if she had any rooms left, she thought the renter would show up at a decent hour, not in the middle of the night. But she had promised Vic he could have the room, and she needed the extra income it would bring in, so here she was - her natural-color, dark brown hair sticking up in all directions, shuffling toward the front door wearing her fluffy robe and her matching green bunny slippers at an ungodly hour of the night. Well, she hoped this one didn't expect to unpack all his things tonight. That would have to wait until morning.
She flipped on the front porch light and peeked through the curtain, noticing a tall, lanky brunet-haired young man standing there, rocking restlessly back and forth on his feet. One eyebrow rose in question back at her as she hurriedly yanked the curtains closed, unlocked the deadbolt, and slid the security lock back to open the door. "You must be Brian."
Brian nodded, only half-focused on her; he was too busy craning his neck around to see if Justin by chance was anywhere around. But to his disappointment, all he saw were things stuffed in every nook and cranny of the older house - lots and lots of things.
She huffed, a little annoyed that he wasn't giving her his full attention at the moment. "Where are all your things?"
"Out in the SUV," he explained, motioning impatiently toward the vehicle parked out at the curb. That was the last thing on his mind at the moment. "It's all in there."
She nodded. "Well, come on in before you catch your death of cold! It's fucking freezing tonight! What happened to summer?" She groused, standing back so her newest member of the family could pass beside her.
Brian took a perfunctory glance around the kitschy-looking - but comfortable - two-story home. By the looks of the architecture, it must have been built in the late 19th century, during the Victorian period. It seemed well-maintained, however, and was rather spacious with its high ceilings, tall windows, and large rooms leading off from both sides of the foyer. But he didn't see any main-floor bedrooms...or Justin.
"I'm Debbie, Vic's sister," Debbie verified as Brian nodded silently in understanding. "Your room is upstairs on the right," she told him. "Bring anything to sleep in with you?"
"I don't normally sleep in anything," Brian told her, wanting to get this introduction over with so he could be introduced to something - or in this case, someone - else. He bestowed a smirk at her. "Does that bother your sensibilities?"
Debbie snorted; Vic had warned her about this one, but he also knew she could more than handle the sarcasm. Besides, her brother had filled her in on what this one was like, so she knew most of it was just a protective façade, sort of like an emotional security blanket. "In your own room, I don't care if you sleep in your birthday suit, or a clown suit with rubber shoes. It's late. We can go over all the rules of the house tomorrow," she decided, as Brian frowned at the use of the word 'rules.' He couldn't help it; it was more or less inbred in him. "Your things will be safe enough out in the SUV as long as you locked it. Go on upstairs, and get some sleep. Breakfast's at 8:00 sharp. Don't be late, or you'll be lucky to get a bowl of cereal and some cold coffee."
Brian barely gave her a nod before his long legs led him up the steps in record time, making Debbie curious about his over enthusiasm. Unbeknownst to her, however, Vic had not filled her in one other particular piece of information: the fact that this tenant knew the other tenant as more than one of the other neighbor's boys - and in what could be called the Biblical sense. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and muttered, "Kids," before turning and heading down the first-floor hallway to her own bedroom.