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I wandered into the front room and found a ton more pictures. I slowly walked around the room, taking in bits and pieces of their lives and finding myself more enthralled with them that I already was. A light clicked on behind me, and I turned in surprise.
“That might make it easier to see,” Wes said with a grin.
“These are fantastic, Wes. I love that there are so many pictures of all of you. It just goes to show you how important family is to you all.”
“It is important.” He stopped in front of a picture, and I turned to see who was in it. It was a younger Wes and another boy, and they both had dirt bikes.
“Is that Johnny?” I asked as I stepped closer to him.
“Yes, it is. That was like two days before he died.”
I put my arm around his back, and he returned the gesture, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Wait, come here.” He pulled me to the other side of the room and pointed to a picture. “Isn’t that your father?”
In the picture were four men, “Yes, that is.” I laughed. “I can’t believe my father worked for yours.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Where are your parents now?” He asked softly.
I sighed, “My father passed away when I was nine. He had a heart attack, and my mother passed away when I was twenty-two.”
“Do you have any other family?” He asked.
“No, it was just the three of us. My parents were only children, so no aunts, uncles or cousins.”
“I’m sorry.” He turned to me, “You know if you stick around with me for a while, you’re going to have lots of family.”
“I’m starting to understand that,” I said with a laugh.
Wes pointed out a few other pictures and told me stories of what was behind them, and it wasn’t long before I heard the kids running down the hallway and out the door.
“Where are they going?” I asked quickly as I started toward the door.
Wes grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop, “They are probably going out to the barn. Tonya probably wants to show Marisol the rest of the horses.”
“Should they be out there by themselves?”
“I’m sure they aren’t alone. I’m sure Pop and Brad went out with them.”
As if to prove himself right, he led me to the window, and we saw the two men walking across the driveway just as the kids disappeared into the barn. “See, they are fine.”
I laughed, “I’m sorry that I’m such a neurotic mess.”
He turned me toward him, taking my face, “Yeah, but you're my neurotic mess, and I like it.” Wes kissed me gently and then took my hand, “Come here, I want to show you something.”
I followed him to the stairs and then up, more pictures lined the walls, and I tried to take them all in while he led me upstairs and then down the hallway. He stopped at the door near the end of the hallway and turned to me, “You can not laugh.”
“Laugh?” I said and chuckled.
“Hey, I just said you can’t laugh.”
It made me giggle a little harder, and then he opened the door, and I stepped into his childhood room. There was a double bed with a dark-colored patchwork quilt, and sturdy furniture around the room, but what got my attention was the wall of pictures along the far wall, and I made a beeline toward it.
“You placed soccer?” I asked him as I studied all the photos of him running and kicking the ball.
“Yep.” He put his arms around my waist from behind, “I was pretty good, too.”
