Chapter 787: Damian's Cottage
Wednesday, March 29th, Afternoon
The Movers have gone, the bedrooms have been set up, and toilet paper has been purchased. It was an extraordinarily successful day. The dinner remains sat in a pile on the table, and they sat around. Damian Gannon looked over to Jordan. His daughter leaned back and looked tired.
Jordan looked at Damian, "That's some good takeout," she said.
"Yes, it was a good suggestion," Damian said.
Jordan leaned back and looked around the cottage, "The moving took less time than I expected," she said.
"We still have to unpack," Damian said.
"We got time," Jordan said.
"No," Damian said, "We have to get you to the high school and registered."
"Damn it!" Jordan said.
"I'm thinking of starting you Monday," Damian said.
"Really?" Jordan asked.
"Yeah, give you some time to settle in and help unpack," Damian said.
"What about you, Dad? What are you going to be doing?" Jordan asked.
"I'm going to look for a job," Damian said.
"I thought you're going to have a pension?" Jordan asked.
"Yes, that will be coming, and so will tax bills, but we also need money, and well, I need something to do as well," Damian said. I'm only forty-two."
"What about fishing or woodworking? Do you know things retired people do?" Jordan asked.
"I don't know. I just retired," Damian said.
"Speaking of doing something, let's do something, it's still light out," Jordan said.
"Okay, what do you have in mind?" Damian asked.
"I want to see Momma," Jordan said.
Damian nodded. He knew this was coming. It had been a few months since they had laid Jocelyn to rest in her family plot here in Tree Hill. Damian shook his head; he was twenty years old when he flew down here on summer break to meet Jocelyn's family. He was hoping never to come back here. He and Jocelyn married the day after he graduated and then moved to Columbus, Georgia. This was followed by a move every few years, even some time in Washington, DC. Jordan was born five years into his and Jocelyn's marriage, and she was born in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Everything was going well until just before Thanksgiving; he was in the field when Jocelyn and Jordan got into a car accident; a drunk driver hit them, and it was terrible. Damian was rushed back to see them in the hospital and held Jocelyn's hand when she passed. Damian performed one last measure of love and brought Jocelyn home to lay with her family. But before she passed, she told Damian she wished Jordan would get to know her family, Jocelyn's family. So here they were.
"Well then," Damian said, "Let's go."
"Alright, I need my shoes," Jordan said.
"I'll meet you at the car," Damian said and stood up. Collecting the remains of the takeout, he threw it out, grabbed his coat, and headed out to his car, a battered but trustworthy Toyota 4Runner. A few minutes later, he saw Jordan coming out of the cottage.
Damian smiled and opened the passenger door for Jordan. She slid into the passenger seat and buckled in. Damian walked around to the driver's side and got behind the wheel.
"Don't forget to buckle up," Jordan said.
Damian nodded and buckled up. After starting the car, they drove off. The sun would set soon, and their destination would close at sunset. Jordan played around with the radio as Damian carefully navigated their way through the streets. He knew where they were going but didn't know exactly where he was heading.
Eventually, they pulled into the Tree Hill Cemetery. Damian slowly traveled down the road, looking at the various headstones. Finally, he stopped and parked. Dad and daughter exited their battered 4Runner and walked into the vast collection of headstones. They finally stopped in front of one of the bigger ones.
"It's a nice headstone," Damian said.
Jordan nodded, "Yeah, too bad Uncle Porter put Allen-Travis on the stone instead of Gannon," she said.
"It was the name she was born under," Damian replied, looking over to one corner of the stone. He read his late wife's name.
"But it's like Uncle Porter doesn't want us next to her or to acknowledge that you exist," Jordan said.
"That's pretty morbid, Jordan," Damian said.
"Well, maybe, I don't know," Jordan replied.
Damian nodded and looked at the headstone. His mind drifted to memories that were twenty-three years now in the past. During his sophomore year in college, he met a tall, black-haired, grey-eyed woman who could have been a model in his eyes. She was also a sophomore at the nearby Mercy College. Jocelyn Allen-Travis was her name; she also had a light in her eyes that laughed when she smiled.
He finally got his nerve up to walk up to her. Damian remembered feeling self-conscious in his uniform as he approached her. She had also been alone most of the night, talking to one or two friends. She looked at him and smiled. It was her beautiful smile, but for some reason, it put him at ease. It helped that she had an effortless way about her and carried herself relaxed and confidently. Damian knew he fell in love with Jocelyn in those small moments in their twenty-something years together.
"She was a beautiful woman," A man's voice echoed in Damian's ear. Damian turned around and saw a man standing there, flanked by a brown-haired woman and a black-haired woman.
"Hello, Porter," Damian said in a low, calm, controlled voice.
Jordan turned around and looked at the black-haired man, who was showing greying streaks, "Uncle Porter," she said.
"Damian," he said to Damian and turned to look at Jordan, "Jordi," Porter Allen-Travis said, as he walked closer to the grave, "Coming to visit, I see."
Damian nodded, "Yeah, Jordan wanted to see her Momma," he said.
"Uncle Porter, please don't call me Jordi," Jordan said.
"Sure," Porter said, "So, when did you get in? Why didn't you call us? Where are you staying? When are you heading back to El Paso?"
"We won't be heading back to El Paso," Damian said.
Porter nodded, "I see, so where did you move to?" he asked.
"We already did," Jordan said.
"Oh really?" Porter asked.
"Yes, we did," Jordan replied.
"Where to?" Porter asked.
"Here," Jordan said, "Dad and I just moved into this cute cottage on Fisher Street."
"You bought a place?" Porter asked, "Why didn't you just tell me? We could have given you one of the cottages or a whole wing; we have plenty of room at Rosestone."
"I don't want to put you out," Damian said.
Porter nodded, "I see, so when do you start school?" he asked, turning to Damian, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"We're going to the high school tomorrow to register," Jordan said.
"That's good," Porter said and turned back to Damian, "So, why didn't you tell me you were moving here?"
"Hadn't had time to call," Damian said.
"Why move here? You have no connection to this town," Porter said.
"Hey, Uncle Porter, is that Aunt Bairbre?" Jordan asked.
Porter turned to look at Jordan, "Oh! Yes, yes, it is," Porter said, "Bairbre, come here, you remember Jordan."
The brown-haired woman stepped forward. "Yes, I do, Porter," Bairbre said. Hello, Jordan. How have you been? Are you settling in nicely?"
Jordan smiled, "I'm doing well," she said, "We just moved in today."
"Oh! Really, maybe Joce should show you around," Bairbre said, "Joce, sweetie, come here."
The black-haired young woman stepped forward to where Baribre and Jordan were talking. She looked at Jordan with her dark eyes. Jordan noted that her Aunt Bairbre had dark eyes, contrasting with her and her Uncle Porter's grey eyes.
"Joce, you remember your cousin, Jordan," Bairbre said.
"I do, Mom," Joce said, her voice carrying an accent that was clear and defined to Jordan's ears. Jordan nodded, noting her Grandpa, William Gannon, said she had a camp follower accent, which, when he explained what he meant, was a mix of many accents from all their moving about.
"Jordan, I'm sure you remember your cousin, Joce," Bairbre said.
Jordan nodded. She studied her cousin. Supposedly, Joce was only a few months younger than her. Jordan often wondered if her Uncle Porter got his wife pregnant just because her Momma was pregnant with her. The way her Dad talked about Uncle Porter made her wary of some of his motivations. It didn't help that Joce was named after Jordan's Mom, Jocelyn. Joce was about the same height and build as Jordan, with similar black hair. Joce may have had wider hips, and Jordan suspected she had larger breasts. Not enough would be noticed without a close inspection or knowledge. The primary difference was there was a difference in their noses and Joce's doe brown eyes.
"Joce," Joce said and casually looked Jordan over. Jordan knew Joce was sizing her up as she had just done. "I'm supposedly named after your mom."
"So, I've heard," Jordan said.
"How did you get your name?" Joce asked. Jordan wondered why she asked such a strange question.
Jordan shrugged, "Jordan?" Jordan asked, "My Momma picked it, and I guess he just liked the name."
"I see," Joce said; Jordan thought she heard either disbelief or disinterest in her cousin's voice, "Are you going to the high school?"
Jordan nodded, "I believe so," she said.
Joce nodded; Jordan noted something in the corner of one of her dark eyes, "Well, I might see you there," she said.
"You just might," Jordan said.
Bairbre nodded, "Well, Porter, we should be heading home." She said, "Leave Damian and Jordan alone so they can spend time with Jocelyn."
Porter nodded, "Yes, we should," he said, "Damian, you and Jordan should come over for dinner Friday night."
"To Rosestone?" Damian asked.
"Yes, to Rosetone," Porter said.
"I'm not sure, Porter," Damian said.
"You should," Bairbre said, stepping in, "Freida is such a great cook."
Damian noticed Joce wasn't taking part. Jordan looked at him with a wondering expression. Damian took a deep breath and slowly let it out, "We will be there," Damian said.
Jordan turned to look at Porter, her face a mask of calm. Damian knew she was showing a united front and was on his side. "Thank you, Uncle Porter," Jordan said.
Porter smiled, "Well, we'll see you then," Porter said and escorted his wife and daughter away.
"Bye, Uncle Porter," Jordan said and sighed; finally, she looked at Damian, "It wasn't that bad."
Damian shrugged, "Yeah," he said.
Jordan nodded, "Well, I don't get why Momma said you and him didn't get along," she said.
"Well, I'm here because your Momma wants you to know her family," Damian said.
"Dad, that doesn't answer my question," Jordan said, "But what happened between you two, Dad?"
"It's not important," Damian said, looking at the headstone. He nodded, "We'll be back soon, Jocelyn," and turned back to Jordan. "Let's head home. We have a lot of unpacking to do."
Jordan nodded, "Okay, but I don't want to do it," she said.
"It's something we have to do, and we won't have cable or the internet until Friday," Damian said, knowing he would have to go through the stuff and cull Jocelyn's stuff. He never did it in El Paso and just packed the whole household. He also wondered what he would do with everything from his former career. He truly wanted to turn the page.
"That sucks," Jordan said.
"There was life before Social Media," Damian said.
"You keep telling me that, Dad, but I don't see dinosaurs wandering around anymore," Jordan said.
"Funny, Jordan," Damian said, "Let's go."
"Okay, if we must," Jordan said.
Damian put his arm around his daughter's waist and led her back to their battered 4Runner.