A/N: You know what they say, all good things must come to an end: 2024, the Eras Tour, and unfortunately, this story. Only one chapter left!
"Hey lemme see that one!"
"Hang on a second, I wanna see Darry's face in that photo again."
"Where'd the Christmas pile go?"
"I think it's around here…somewhere…"
My nephews and I sat gathered around their living room coffee table, the one they said Darrel Curtis bought the same year he and Maggie bought their home. I noted the various chips and scratches that littered the table, wondering if they told the stories of their childhoods, similar to the ones we were reading about now.
"Did any of you ever notice her writing these? There has to be dozens of letters here," I remarked.
The four of us were going through the letters that Maggie had been unknowingly sending me for the past two decades, laughing at the cheesy photos she sent and funny stories she wrote, each of us getting teary-eyed on more than one occasion.
"I think I saw her mail one once or twice, but I can't be sure that it was a letter for you. I think she hid these from everyone, including our dad," said Darry.
"Hey, listen to this one," interjected Soda. "My boys remind me of the two of us more and more each day. Just today Darry and Sodapop were helping me in the kitchen and I couldn't help but realize they were just like the two of us used to be when we would "help" Mother. Darry's like me, wanting everything to be measured out exactly perfectly, and Sodapop is just like you were, wreaking havoc and driving your older sibling crazy. Of course, we didn't have a Ponyboy throwing food at us from his highchair, further adding to the chaos…"
We all chuckled at my sister's writing. "I think I vaguely remember us baking with our mother. She's right, though, I was probably more of a problem than I was helpful."
"Sounds like Soda every day of the week," joked Ponyboy.
All of us laughed, Soda doing so through a playful scowl. It was good to see Ponyboy getting back to his usual self after just a few days of rest. I think it also had to do with the fact that they had caught the boys that jumped him. Not that my nephew was vengeful, but he was certainly less fidgety and nervous since they'd been caught and suspended. He was up and about more, fighting the doctor's strict orders to rest, much to his brothers' chagrin. I knew they were secretly grateful, though; a restless Ponyboy was a healthy Ponyboy.
"How long did she send these for?" asked Ponyboy.
I sifted through our haphazard organization of the letters. "It looks like the last one was sent in December of 1964, after Christmas." I opened the letter and scanned it briefly. "She talked about how you guys spent the holiday together and were making plans for Darry's upcoming birthday. She said—" I stopped, swallowing as I processed what I had just read. "She said she always wondered if I had kids of my own and asked if I would be willing to have our families spend Christmas together one day."
The room got quiet after that. Though I didn't know the exact date, I knew that Darrel and my sister's accident had happened sometime between Christmas and Darry's twentieth birthday. I had a hunch Darry's birthday plans didn't turn out as they'd hoped.
"It's too bad you guys didn't get to spend another Christmas together," whispered Sodapop.
I sighed. "It is. But," I paused, looking around at my nephews, "at least I'll be able to spend future Christmases with you guys. Only if you'd like, of course. I could bring Elizabeth and Clara, or you guys could come to Kentucky. I wish Margaret and Darrel could be there, but it doesn't mean that our families will never get to spend Christmas together."
"I'd like that," said Darry, the boys nodding in agreement.
The room got quiet again as we resumed sifting through the letters, going through piles of childhood stories and Curtis family adventures, all through the eyes of my sister.
"Hey, check this one out," said Ponyboy, holding up a wrinkled and yellow envelope, clearly among the first few my sister had sent. "I turned my back for three seconds today and Darry had gotten into all of my makeup. It was quite a mess to clean up, but the look of mascara covering his forehead and lipstick smeared all over his face was priceless. If you ever have kids of your own, just know that toddlers are no joke."
That letter got the most laughter but also caused Darry to have a contemplative look on his face. I'd come to recognize this as his thinking face, something I'd seen all too often in the past few weeks as I'd observed him being in charge of every major family decision.
"If I was a toddler," Darry began, "then Mom would've been around my age when she wrote that. Can you imagine being a parent, at my age? Crazy to think about."
"Yeah, real crazy," Ponyboy said sarcastically, accompanying it with his signature eye roll.
"If I could picture any 21-year-old as a parent, it would be you, Darry," said Sodapop.
Darry turned to me, looking for someone to back him up. "I have to agree with them," I shrugged. "You're very mature."
"The only mature thing about me is my back pain," Darry said, groaning as he stood from where he was sitting on the floor. The boys began organizing the letters back into piles and sorting them into the box once again before handing it to me.
"No, you guys should keep them," I insisted.
"Nonsense, they're addressed to you," argued Soda.
"Yes, but they're all stories about you guys."
"She'd want you to have them," protested Ponyboy.
"You guys keep them. That way you know I'm coming back to visit, and we can relive the memories all over again."
"Sounds like a plan," agreed Darry.
— — — — — — — — — —
Martha gave the tightest hugs of anyone I'd ever hugged. Just when I thought my organs had permanently constricted and my windpipe had sustained substantial damage, she finally let me go, only to pull me right back in again.
"You drive home safe, don't go speeding down unfamiliar roads in the dark," she advised.
"I'll try not to," I wheezed, struggling to breathe. I frantically gulped in oxygen when she finally let me go, Rebecca laughing at me before pulling me in for a hug of her own.
"I doubt my hug will be as good as Martha's, but I baked you some cookies for the trip home to make up for it. I made a few extra so you could share with Elizabeth and Clara, too."
"Thanks, Rebecca," I said, knowing I had every intention of eating all of the cookies on my own.
"That doesn't give you an excuse to eat extras for yourself, though," she scolded.
"It's scary how well you can read my mind."
"So are you headed straight on the road after this?" asked Martha.
"I've got one more stop to make, but yes, after that I need to be going. I was gone longer than I ever intended to be."
"I get it, family's the priority. But we will miss you here," said Rebecca.
"I'll miss you guys too. I promise to come visit, maybe even land myself in here if I do something stupid again."
"Again?" they asked.
I thought about the night I'd somehow gotten myself in jail with Soda, and how it felt like a lifetime ago. "Never mind," I said, not wanting to recount my stupidity to my coworkers.
"Well Martha's right, you should drive safe," said Rebecca.
I gave each of them one last hug, limiting Martha's to only a few seconds this time, before taking one last look at the clinic. This was the place that was merely supposed to serve as my excuse to come to Oklahoma, a distraction from my true goal if anything. Instead, I had met some of the best coworkers I'd ever worked with, somehow set one of them up with my nephew, and formed connections with patients that eventually resulted in getting Soda and me out of jail. Most importantly, it had become my family in Oklahoma when I felt I didn't have one. Now I did have one, it was simply bigger.
— — — — — — — — — —
"You have everything?" Darry asked in a true dad fashion. He may not be my dad, or even older than me, but that didn't stop him from trying to micromanage everything to make sure my trip to make sure everything went smoothly, and I loved him for it.
"All set," I affirmed, glancing around the front yard to make sure nothing had magically fallen out of my car.
"Well Michael," said Two-Bit, clapping me on the back a little too hard. "I guess you had to mosey on back to Connecticut or wherever you're from some time."
"Kentucky," I corrected.
"That's what I said."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Two-Bit has a gift for you."
Two-Bit ran to retrieve something from the trunk of his car, coming back with a six-pack of beer.
"Oh I don't think—"
"Is it too much? You're right, it's too much. Here." He took a singular beer from the package and handed it to me, carrying the rest at his side "Now it's a more appropriate gift."
"You really are the worst, you know that?" asked Steve.
"And yet you keep me around," countered Two-Bit.
"I'm disengaging from this situation."
"And we're proud of you for it, Stevie!" shouted Two-Bit, before turning to me and exclaiming in a whisper, "he's been working on his anger management."
"I can see that," I remarked.
I was hit with a sudden force before someone was squeezing the daylights out of me in a hug that could've been compared to Martha's. I looked down to see it was Ponyboy, who was definitely supposed to be in bed.
"What are you doing up?" I asked gently, noticing the fire behind Darry's eyes.
"What, you thought I was going let you leave without saying goodbye?" he asked as he began to lean on me, his strength apparently not what he thought it was. Sodapop came jogging after him soon after.
"I was keeping him in bed, I swear. I turned away for a second and he was out the door, he's like a bullet."
"Say your goodbyes, then you need to head inside," said Darry.
I finished hugging Ponyboy before passing him off to Sodapop to lean on and hugging him as well. When I finally got to Darry I hesitated; I wasn't sure if he would want a hug from me or if he would settle for something more formal, such as a handshake. He pulled me into the biggest hug of all, though, telling me to get home safe and make sure I visited soon.
"I will," I promised.
I managed to hold in my tears for the goodbyes, though I knew a few would inevitably slip out on the drive home (I'm an emotional guy, okay?). I had gotten settled in my car for the long drive and was doing one last wave, watching the boys out my window as I drove away when I felt a thump.
My car came to a sudden halt as I frantically tried to look around and see what I might've hit. Had a ball rolled out into the street, or maybe a bike was left discarded in the road? The last thing I expected, though, was for Michael from the DX to pop up into view and smile at me as though I didn't just hit him with my car. And yet that's exactly what happened.
My nephews hurried over to see if he was okay as I frantically got out of the car and went to Michael, who pulled me into a hug.
"Are you alright?" I asked, trying to feel for broken bones.
"I'm fine, other than the fact that you were planning on leaving without saying goodbye. What gives?"
"I was headed to the DX right now," I lied. I just hit this guy with my car, the last thing I wanted to do was make him think I had completely forgotten he existed, especially because that's exactly what I did.
"Well, it's a good thing I found you here. I don't work on Tuesdays, you know this," he said good-naturedly, punching my arm as though I somehow had his schedule memorized.
"Ah, yes, that's right. Couldn't forget about Tuesdays."
DX Michael turned to my nephews. "I take bowling night very seriously. Every Tuesday, without fail," he explained.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Oh, just fine. Sad you're leaving, though."
I looked into the eyes of possibly the craziest man I'd ever met. The person I'd tried to avoid, whom I'd judged and somewhat ridiculed behind his back. When I looked into his eyes, though, I saw him for who he truly was. A guy who just needed a friend.
"You know what, let me give you my house number. That way you can call me anytime you like," I said.
"Really?" Michael asked, eagerly producing a pen he just happened to have on him. "Go ahead and write it on my arm."
"You're gonna regret this," mumbled Sodapop, barely audible. I knew he was probably right, but I had come here with the goal to stop judging others before I even knew them. And despite Michael's efforts, I felt as though I barely knew him at all.
I finished writing my number and re-capped the pen. "I'd better get going so I'm not driving in the dark. Thank you all for everything, really. I'll be back to visit soon."
"You promise?" Ponyboy asked.
"I promise."