“I’m sorry, Mama,” I said, calling her a name I hadn’t called her since I was a little girl not much older than Emma. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”
“Oh Kat.” Now her green eyes were watery. “I’d forgive you for anything.” She got out of her chair and collected me in her arms. “You’re my baby, Kathleen. The love of my life. Don’t you know that?”
Crying in my mother’s arms while she stroked my hair felt childish and restorative at the same time. I was twenty-three with a child of my own but instantly I could recall being five and refusing to go back to sleep after a nightmare unless my mother stayed in my bed with me. And she did. She hummed a song that nowadays I sing to Emma and to Colin and that night she stayed with me long after I fell asleep.
Once my therapeutic sob fest was finished, my mother questioned my plans to drive down to Phoenix.
“Are you sure these people are trustworthy?” she asked. “I don’t think you and Emma should go alone. I can go with you.”
“Nash already offered to be our personal escort,” I said. “But no thank you. I need to bring Emma down there by myself.”
“If you’re sure,” she said and I could tell she was trying to weigh her words and avoid saying the wrong thing.
“I’m sure.”
She watched me. “I saw Nash yesterday. I was passing by the store and hadn’t been inside for a while so I took a look around. He was folding t-shirts. Folding them incorrectly I might add.”
I grinned. “But I bet he looked great doing it.”
She smirked. “I never said he wasn’t easy on the eyes.”
“He’s a good guy, Mom. I swear.”
She nodded. “All right. If you say so then I’m sure it’s true. I trust you, Kathleen.”
As I left my mother’s house and went to go pick up my daughter I felt like a new chapter in my life was beginning. There was still one more big topic to sort out but it would have to wait. I was nervous because I didn’t know what the outcome would be. In the beginning I’d promised Nash Ryan friendship and no hassles, no complications.
I couldn’t keep that promise anymore.
I just didn’t know if he wanted the same things I did.
I debated whether or not to bring Colin with me. I could have found someone to watch him for a few hours. But in the end I decided to pack up the diaper bag and bring him along. Today’s journey belonged to him as much as it belonged to me. He had a right to be there.
Car rides usually lulled Colin to sleep and sure enough he was knocked out less than ten minutes into the drive. I turned the radio down to low volume and piloted the mini van up the winding roads that led deep into the mountains.
Years had passed since I’d been up here but I still knew the route by heart. Some of the hairpin turns were a little harrowing but there was no one else on the road. We were still a few miles away from the cabin when blackened vegetation began to appear on both sides of the road, a reminder of what had happened up here in the not too distant past.
There was something eerie and unnatural about the giant charred trees flanking the asphalt. This pocket of the world had always been lush and green and would be again someday. But it would take awhile.
I passed the turnoff to the small lake where my dad and I had spent our disastrous fishing excursions. I hoped it had been spared the devastation that rocketed through here on a night of high winds and brutal destiny.
Here and there were private unpaved lanes that meandered off the main road and led to rustic mountain homes. There were people who lived up here year round but not many and none of them were in the zone where the fire swept through with such ferocity. There was only one tragic story from that night and I was about to confront it.
My stomach clenched when I came to the turnoff. I pulled off to the side and idled at the mouth of the dirt road leading to the two bedroom cabin that had been in my family for fifty years. The tall pines that had once stood proudly along the half mile corridor leading to the cabin were now singed husks. I wondered if this had been a mistake. I wasn’t sure what I hoped to gain by coming up here.
“In these parts you’ve always got to pay attention to the fire warnings, Nash. Take the No Burn days seriously and get the hell out of Dodge the minute you smell smoke.”
Forest fires weren’t that unusual in the mountains. On average there’d be a notable one about once every four or five years. Fatalities were uncommon. Typically there was a warning with enough time to escape the fire.
I turned up the road, unsure of what I’d find at the end of it. Kevin Reston had said the cabin was unsalvageable, just a burned out pile of logs. Steve Brown told me about some insurance on the place but I just told him to do what he needed to do and not bug me about it.
The damage was worse around here. This must have been where the fire had reached its peak before the combined efforts of fire crews and full rain clouds put an end to its ferocity. I hated to think of the two of them in the middle of it, their final moments of terror, their agonized thoughts of the baby boy they were leaving behind.
Someone had been here recently to pay their respects. A friend most likely. Chris and Heather Ryan had so many friends. There was a fresh floral arrangement in the middle of all the devastation, a spot of bright pink among the ruins. The cabin itself was unrecognizable. It looked like someone had taken a pile of Lincoln Logs, scorched them in a barbecue and haphazardly rearranged them in the dirt. My father’s truck had been towed out of here so there was no sign of where it had been parked but I would bet he’d parked in the same spot he always parked, a small clearing along the west side of the cabin. That’s where they’d been found, beside the truck.
I opened the windows and cut the engine. There was absolute quiet but somehow it wasn’t horrible. I’d imagined it to be horrible, a thick silence full of death. But this was more peaceful than I’d expected.
Now that we’d stopped moving, Colin stirred in his car seat. I hopped out and slid open the door to extract him, checking his diaper out of habit. My little brother blinked at the sunlight overhead as I settled him on my hip and grabbed the objects I’d brought along with me. I’d found them in the attic the other day when I was stowing some of the crap I’d brought from Oregon. At first I thought maybe I could used them sometime, when Colin was older. He might like to learn how to fish. But I decided the best idea would be to retire these poles and get new ones. These fishing poles had too much to do with my dad and me. Colin deserved one of his own.
I set the poles down in the middle of the clearing. One full-sized pole, one child-sized. They looked a little plain there so I plucked one of the pink roses from the flower arrangement and carefully set it on top. I assumed whoever had placed the flowers there wouldn’t mind sharing.
Colin uttered a few babbling consonants, something he’d been doing lately. I was aware of how much responsibility I had. There was so much to tell him. Of course some pieces of the story he’d never have to know. There were a few parts I would have done over again if I could.
“Goodbye, Dad,” I whispered, staring down at the fishing poles I’d placed side by side.
I still wondered about their reasons, why Chris and Heather had chosen me to take care of Colin if they couldn’t.
“Because he knew you’d rise to the challenge, that you’d love and protect that baby boy. Chris and Heather never doubted you”
“Oh Kat.” Now her green eyes were watery. “I’d forgive you for anything.” She got out of her chair and collected me in her arms. “You’re my baby, Kathleen. The love of my life. Don’t you know that?”
Crying in my mother’s arms while she stroked my hair felt childish and restorative at the same time. I was twenty-three with a child of my own but instantly I could recall being five and refusing to go back to sleep after a nightmare unless my mother stayed in my bed with me. And she did. She hummed a song that nowadays I sing to Emma and to Colin and that night she stayed with me long after I fell asleep.
Once my therapeutic sob fest was finished, my mother questioned my plans to drive down to Phoenix.
“Are you sure these people are trustworthy?” she asked. “I don’t think you and Emma should go alone. I can go with you.”
“Nash already offered to be our personal escort,” I said. “But no thank you. I need to bring Emma down there by myself.”
“If you’re sure,” she said and I could tell she was trying to weigh her words and avoid saying the wrong thing.
“I’m sure.”
She watched me. “I saw Nash yesterday. I was passing by the store and hadn’t been inside for a while so I took a look around. He was folding t-shirts. Folding them incorrectly I might add.”
I grinned. “But I bet he looked great doing it.”
She smirked. “I never said he wasn’t easy on the eyes.”
“He’s a good guy, Mom. I swear.”
She nodded. “All right. If you say so then I’m sure it’s true. I trust you, Kathleen.”
As I left my mother’s house and went to go pick up my daughter I felt like a new chapter in my life was beginning. There was still one more big topic to sort out but it would have to wait. I was nervous because I didn’t know what the outcome would be. In the beginning I’d promised Nash Ryan friendship and no hassles, no complications.
I couldn’t keep that promise anymore.
I just didn’t know if he wanted the same things I did.
I debated whether or not to bring Colin with me. I could have found someone to watch him for a few hours. But in the end I decided to pack up the diaper bag and bring him along. Today’s journey belonged to him as much as it belonged to me. He had a right to be there.
Car rides usually lulled Colin to sleep and sure enough he was knocked out less than ten minutes into the drive. I turned the radio down to low volume and piloted the mini van up the winding roads that led deep into the mountains.
Years had passed since I’d been up here but I still knew the route by heart. Some of the hairpin turns were a little harrowing but there was no one else on the road. We were still a few miles away from the cabin when blackened vegetation began to appear on both sides of the road, a reminder of what had happened up here in the not too distant past.
There was something eerie and unnatural about the giant charred trees flanking the asphalt. This pocket of the world had always been lush and green and would be again someday. But it would take awhile.
I passed the turnoff to the small lake where my dad and I had spent our disastrous fishing excursions. I hoped it had been spared the devastation that rocketed through here on a night of high winds and brutal destiny.
Here and there were private unpaved lanes that meandered off the main road and led to rustic mountain homes. There were people who lived up here year round but not many and none of them were in the zone where the fire swept through with such ferocity. There was only one tragic story from that night and I was about to confront it.
My stomach clenched when I came to the turnoff. I pulled off to the side and idled at the mouth of the dirt road leading to the two bedroom cabin that had been in my family for fifty years. The tall pines that had once stood proudly along the half mile corridor leading to the cabin were now singed husks. I wondered if this had been a mistake. I wasn’t sure what I hoped to gain by coming up here.
“In these parts you’ve always got to pay attention to the fire warnings, Nash. Take the No Burn days seriously and get the hell out of Dodge the minute you smell smoke.”
Forest fires weren’t that unusual in the mountains. On average there’d be a notable one about once every four or five years. Fatalities were uncommon. Typically there was a warning with enough time to escape the fire.
I turned up the road, unsure of what I’d find at the end of it. Kevin Reston had said the cabin was unsalvageable, just a burned out pile of logs. Steve Brown told me about some insurance on the place but I just told him to do what he needed to do and not bug me about it.
The damage was worse around here. This must have been where the fire had reached its peak before the combined efforts of fire crews and full rain clouds put an end to its ferocity. I hated to think of the two of them in the middle of it, their final moments of terror, their agonized thoughts of the baby boy they were leaving behind.
Someone had been here recently to pay their respects. A friend most likely. Chris and Heather Ryan had so many friends. There was a fresh floral arrangement in the middle of all the devastation, a spot of bright pink among the ruins. The cabin itself was unrecognizable. It looked like someone had taken a pile of Lincoln Logs, scorched them in a barbecue and haphazardly rearranged them in the dirt. My father’s truck had been towed out of here so there was no sign of where it had been parked but I would bet he’d parked in the same spot he always parked, a small clearing along the west side of the cabin. That’s where they’d been found, beside the truck.
I opened the windows and cut the engine. There was absolute quiet but somehow it wasn’t horrible. I’d imagined it to be horrible, a thick silence full of death. But this was more peaceful than I’d expected.
Now that we’d stopped moving, Colin stirred in his car seat. I hopped out and slid open the door to extract him, checking his diaper out of habit. My little brother blinked at the sunlight overhead as I settled him on my hip and grabbed the objects I’d brought along with me. I’d found them in the attic the other day when I was stowing some of the crap I’d brought from Oregon. At first I thought maybe I could used them sometime, when Colin was older. He might like to learn how to fish. But I decided the best idea would be to retire these poles and get new ones. These fishing poles had too much to do with my dad and me. Colin deserved one of his own.
I set the poles down in the middle of the clearing. One full-sized pole, one child-sized. They looked a little plain there so I plucked one of the pink roses from the flower arrangement and carefully set it on top. I assumed whoever had placed the flowers there wouldn’t mind sharing.
Colin uttered a few babbling consonants, something he’d been doing lately. I was aware of how much responsibility I had. There was so much to tell him. Of course some pieces of the story he’d never have to know. There were a few parts I would have done over again if I could.
“Goodbye, Dad,” I whispered, staring down at the fishing poles I’d placed side by side.
I still wondered about their reasons, why Chris and Heather had chosen me to take care of Colin if they couldn’t.
“Because he knew you’d rise to the challenge, that you’d love and protect that baby boy. Chris and Heather never doubted you”
