Sweetgrass. Mary Monroe Alice

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СКАЧАТЬ sound of his mother’s voice pierced Blackjack’s clamor. Morgan closed his eyes for a moment, then slowly raised himself and looked over his shoulder toward her. His gaze locked with a pair of blue eyes that were shining bright through tears. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other. Mother and son stood staring for an intense moment, then she flung open her arms and took a faltering step forward.

      Morgan wiped his hands on his thighs and then closed the distance to her side in a few long strides. Mama June reached up to wrap her arms around him in a trembling embrace and instantly Morgan was enveloped again in the scent of gardenias.

      “Oh, my dear, dear boy!” she cried. “It’s so good to see you. Shame on you for staying away so long. I’ve missed you!”

      She felt his resistance in the stiffness of his arms and it pained her deeply, yet she clung a moment longer, as though her love would be strong enough to melt his iciness.

      He felt awkward in the sudden emotion and drew back with shuffling steps, offering her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek.

      “Hello, Mama June.”

      She held him at arm’s length. “Darlin’, let me get a good look at you. You’re so thin! Aren’t you getting enough to eat?”

      “I eat fine.”

      “I’ll just bet you do…. Don’t you worry, we’ll take care of that while you’re here.”

      As her eyes devoured him, his did likewise. She was different somehow. Mama June had always been slender, but time had rounded her edges and softened her skin. Her face was sleep-worn and he figured Blackjack’s barking had awakened her. Yet she didn’t look tired—that wasn’t the right word. Older. It shocked him to see it.

      In his mind, his mother was always the same age as the last time he’d seen her. She was a wren of a woman, with bright eyes that shone with curiosity and quick movements that, while graceful, reflected the swift turns of her thoughts. Her hair, still long, was now a snowy white and loosely bound in a thin braid that fell over one shoulder. It was a style both old-fashioned and reminiscent of a young girl’s.

      He’d known she’d be older, of course. He’d not been home in years. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things. Yet her excitement colored her high cheekbones with a youthful flush, her joyous smile brought out deep dimples and her blue eyes sparkled like a light burning bright in a window.

      Mama June grinned with elation. “I…I just can’t believe you’re here! It’s a blessing! A true blessing. Oh, Morgan, what a surprise! Why didn’t you call and let us know you were coming?”

      “I didn’t want to put anyone out. I figured y’all had your hands full with Daddy right now.”

      Her smile slipped. “You got my message?”

      Morgan nodded. “And I talked to Nan.”

      Confusion flickered in Mama June’s eyes. “Nan? Your sister didn’t tell me she spoke with you.”

      “I asked her not to. I wasn’t trying to be secretive, nothing like that. I just wasn’t sure what I was going to do and, well, I didn’t want to…”

      “Get my hopes up?”

      He laughed shortly and shuffled his feet. “Yeah, I guess.”

      Her brows furrowed. “What made you decide to come?”

      He seemed surprised by the question. “I couldn’t not come. I know it’s been strained between us, but hell, he’s still my father.”

      “Oh, Morgan, I’m sorry not to have been the one to tell you. I tried to call you right after your father was brought to the hospital, but there was no answer. I kept trying and finally just left the message. It wasn’t an easy message to leave and I hated doing it. I’m glad Nan at least called you.”

      “She didn’t call me. I called her. After I got Daddy’s phone message.”

      She skipped a beat and her eyes widened. “His…his what? Preston called you? When?”

      “A little over a week ago. Out of the blue. As luck would have it, I was on a hunting trip and didn’t get the message till the following week.” He paused, releasing a short laugh. “When I heard his voice on the machine, I sat hard in the chair, I can tell you. I listened to that message over and over again, just so I could believe it was the ol’ coot. Then I got your message.” He paused. “It hit me pretty hard. I just grabbed a map and every dollar in the house, got in the truck and drove south.”

      Mama June’s jaw was slack with disbelief. “Preston called you…”

      “You didn’t know that he’d called?” Morgan asked, surprised.

      She shook her head. “What did he want?”

      “I was hoping you could tell me. He was vague, almost stumbling, like he didn’t really know what to say. In the end, he muttered something about wanting to talk and then he hung up.”

      Morgan saw a multitude of emotions flutter through his mother’s eyes as she stared off a moment and brought her fingertips to her lips. He remembered she was tenderhearted, and moved to comfort her. “Are you all right?”

      “Me? Oh, yes, dear, I’m fine,” she replied perfunctorily, but this was her pat answer and Morgan didn’t believe her. She tilted her head and said with a tone of sadness, “Your father never fails to amaze me, that’s all.”

      “Well, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather, that’s for sure.”

      They shared a brief, commiserating laugh. The unpredictable nature of Preston Blakely was a family joke, and sharing it, Morgan felt one step closer to home.

      “How is he?” he asked.

      Her smile faltered as her tone grew troubled. “He’s not good. It was a very severe stroke. The doctors don’t know if he’ll walk again. Maybe not even talk.”

      Morgan cursed under his breath. “I had no idea it was so bad.”

      “What’s worse is knowing that beneath the still facade, he’s just as mad as a wet hornet to be lying in bed, cooped up in that hospital. You know your daddy. He never spent more than a day in bed, no matter how sick he was.”

      “It’s ironic.”

      “It’s unfair, is what it is.” Mama June tightened the sash around her waist and drew herself up. “There’s a lot to be discussed, but it’s getting chilly standing out here in my slippers and robe. And you have an empty stomach.” She slipped her arm inside his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Come inside where it’s warm and let me feed you some breakfast. You must be famished.”

      “Sounds great.” Morgan quickly grabbed a dusty black duffel bag from the back of the truck.

      His vehicle, his clothes, even his luggage seemed coated with dust, like a caravan arriving from the desert. He’d traveled many miles. And now he was home, she thought, her heart near bursting. She led the way to the house, her critical eye taking in the shabby appearance of her usually pristine home. She’d been too preoccupied with Preston’s stroke to СКАЧАТЬ