“You can pretend that you still live with your momma because she needs you, but deep inside you know that’s not true,” a little voice in my head says to me. “You stay because you know what to expect. You stay because home is a safe place to hide when the world gets too ugly.”
I thought of myself as a strong woman because I finally got the nerve to flip off Dingleberry. I thought sex was a way to get a man. I thought a Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme was a healthy snack because it had oatmeal. I used to think a lot of things about myself that weren’t true. I’m almost afraid of what I’ll discover next.
25
If you’re trying to watch your family from a distance, a Rapid Red F-150 with the chrome package and dual exhaust isn’t the best plan. It’s like driving around with a neon arrow pointing at you. The day after I arrive in Marfa, I drive to Alpine and rent a banged-up Sienna. I know all too well that no one notices a silver minivan. I rent a storage unit big enough to store the truck and head to the Dollar General where Lida works. At least that’s where she was working, but the manager tells me Lida moved to Fort Hood with her husband.
Lida’s married?
I’m gone less than a year and my parents get remarried and Lida gets a husband and moves to an army base. A whole lot has changed since I died, and I can’t help but feel like everyone has moved on without me.
It’s Saturday, and that means Daddy’s barbecuing something. I drive incognito to Momma’s house, but another family is living there. I just stare at the new blue paint and white trim. There’s a new porch and carport, and the raised prickly-pear garden me and Momma started when I was ten has been torn out. I lived in that house for twenty-five years, and now every trace of my life has vanished.
I leave feeling as gutted as my old house and drive to Daddy’s, but they’re not living at his trailer either. I know this because Floozy Face wouldn’t be sweeping the front porch if Momma lived there.
I drive around Marfa looking for a barbecue smoke signal, but the only smoke I see is coming from Jorge Espinoza’s taco truck. I’m hungry but I’m going to pass on Jorge’s Especiales. Instead I opt for a cold beer and fish tacos. I’m wearing my new jeans, sparkly boots, and a jean jacket, and fit right in at Boogie’s Tex-Mex. My hair survived Momma’s Loretta Lynn custom do, but it does feel a little dry from all the heat and gel. Not dry enough to keep me from my Monday appointment, and nothing that won’t benefit from a nourishing treatment at Chantal.
Only I’m not going to be there next week for my standing appointment, and I need to cancel. I left my Hawthorne Corporation Samsung in Detroit so I can’t be traced to Marfa. The last thing I want to do is answer questions about why I returned to Texas, and I pull out my personal phone and look at my calendar. I have an appointment with the Aveda Institute in San Antonio in two weeks. I filled out the initial paperwork, but it’s so far away I want to see the school before I commit.
I forgot to tell Meredith that I can’t make Rowan’s “About Me” program at her preschool academy after all. She taught Magnus to crawl on his belly for the “I Love…” part of the performance. I’m sorry that I won’t be there to see it.
I fire off a text to Chantal but hesitate over what to write Meredith. She and the kids are a big part of my life in Michigan, and I’m going to miss them. A little part of me will miss Magnus, too, but I doubt he’ll miss me at all.
I think about Marv and Claire. We don’t always understand each other, but I think we’re more accepting of our differences now. Burton was just getting to the point where he would talk to me without scowling. I don’t want to hurt any of them, but this is my home. Besides, it’s not like I’m never going to return to Michigan.
I think about Oliver, and I don’t know if he’ll miss me. I don’t know what he thinks of me—other than that he’s gone from hating me to wanting me in just three months. I don’t know what I think of him either—other than that I’ve felt a connection to him from the first time I saw him walk toward me on the dark patio at Hawthorne. Then again, I thought I had a connection to Elliot El
Fuego, too.
I pick up my old cell phone still hooked to the charger, but it still isn’t working. What a letdown, but thank the good Lord and baby Jesus, my favorite restaurant is still up and running. Boogie’s Tex-Mex still smells of grease and fish and salsa, and the same Lone Star sign hangs behind the bar. The same twinkly lights are tangled in the horns of Boogie’s eight-point buck, and his girls Sheila and Shana still wait tables.
The beer is just as cold as I remember, but there’s no need for space panties, because I can only eat two fish tacos. Boogie’s still makes the best Tex-Mex, but later, in the Rock Hudson suite, I pay the price for eating all that batter and grease.
The next morning, I check the old iPhone. The screen is black, but I’m not giving up. There has to be a way to get it open. I grab a piece of toast and head out for Glorious Way Evangelical. No need for GPS. I know the way.
I sit in the back and scrunch down, hoping no one notices me and wants to know if I’m saved or if they can pray for me. Momma is in her regular spot, and if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe Daddy was sitting right next to her. I can’t see his face, but he has the same permanent dent in the back of his head from wearing the cowboy hat he outgrew when he was seventeen.
I expected to feel funny about seeing them together, but it warms a place in my heart that I didn’t know needed warming. A little piece of a child’s heart that always longed to live under the same roof with both her parents. I’m glad I came prepared with my own Kleenex.
Johnny J. is at his fire-and-brimstone best as he smacks his Bible on the pulpit and preaches about God and sin and the path to redemption.
“Second Corinthians five-seventeen. ‘Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold all things are become new.’ Praise Jesus.”
“Praise Jesus,” I say along with everyone else. My faith journey has changed along with everything else in my life. I guess coming so close to seeing God, I don’t think the same as I used to. I believe in him more than ever, and I’ve come to think God cares more about what’s in a person’s heart than where he or she sits on Sundays.
“Ladies and gentlemen, when you accept Christ in your heart, all things become new. No one knows this better than our newly baptized brother Pudge Snider. Brother Pudge, would you come up and share your faith story?”
What? He not only goes to church now, but he was baptized and has a faith story? Am I in a prank video?
I can hear Momma bawling from all the way in the back as Daddy walks to the dais. I’ve never seen him dressed for church, and he never wore glasses before. “I’m a sinnin’ man,” he begins, and hearing his voice brings a flood of tears to my eyes. “Worldly and selfish, always puttin’ my desires before God. I didn’t believe I needed savin’, and that ain’t nothin’ but the truth.
“When my baby girl died, I blamed God. He took my only child, and I wanted to crawl in that hole with her.” He sniffs and clears his throat and my chin starts to quiver. “I started drankin’ and skirtin’ around more’n usual. One night I pert near died out on Highway Sixty-Seven, but God had different plans for me. He reached down and pulled me outta the darkness. He put my beautiful Carla Jean back in my life and set my feet on a godly path. I don’t know why he saved this ol’ sinner, but he did, and I don’t take that lightly.”
I’ve cried through five Kleenexes. I can still hear Momma, and I’d guess she’s used up half a box.
“I wasn’t a great daddy, but I live my life different now. I live for God, and for the chance to see my Brittany Lynn once more. If she ever gets to lookin’ down from heaven, I think she’ll be proud of her ol’ daddy and the way I see to her momma.” He clears the emotions from his throat and continues. “Me and Carla Jean are tryin’ to get some money together for a park we wanna put over there near the fire station, ’cause Brittany Lynn wanted to grow up and be a singer or a volunteer firefighter. If any of y’all can spare a couple of dollars, we’d appreciate it.”
I cover my mouth with my fingers and nod. That was so long ago, I forgot about my back-up plan if Brittany Wittany didn’t work out. I’m surprised he remembers.