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She smiled. “Good. Hold that feeling,” and kept on driving. A few miles later, she began slowing down and flipped on her turn signal. “There’s where we turn.”
One by one, the vehicles behind her did the same as she left the blacktop and began following the gravel road up into the trees.
The house was a hundred yards back, all but buried inthe woods, but as soon as she passed the twin pines, she saw the house, and then gasped at the sight of a half dozen cars in the yard and a whole row of people lining the front porch.
“Mama, who are those people?” B.J. asked as she parked off to the side.
Shirley shivered, seeing herself in their faces. The high cheekbones. The dark hair. The women’s curves. The men’s broad shoulders.
“Some of our family. Look at them. That’s why you’re all so tall. That’s where your dark hair comes from. Look at them, and you’ll see yourself.”
“Oh wow,” B.J. whispered.
One by one, her sons parked, but when they got out, they headed straight for Shirley, as did the people coming off the porch. After that, they were surrounded, fielding hugs and handshakes.
Then one man who stood a head above the rest spoke up from the crowd.
“Shirley, I’m Cameron Pope, your aunt Georgia’s oldest son. This is my wife, Rusty. Welcome home.”
Shirley was crying. “You were just a boy last time I saw you. These are my sons, Aaron, Sean, Wiley, and Brendan Pope, but we call him B.J.”
Cameron smiled. “Another Brendan, huh? Named after the man who started us all. Good to have some more Pope men on this mountain. I’ve been the only man left with that name since my father’s passing.”
And just like that, Shirley’s sons took their first steps into the family.
Annie Cauley, Shirley’s aunt, slipped up behind Shirley and whispered in her ear.
“We cleaned the house. You have food in your refrigerator. The appliances have been serviced. John will show the boys around outside. You come in now and sit where it’s cool while you tell the movers where you want to put your things. After your call, and mentioning your sons were bringing their own things, we took down the old beds in the spare rooms and stored them all in the attic. Your mom’s living room furniture was past hope. She’d written in her last wishes to have it donated, so there’s plenty of room now for your stuff. And don’t worry. All the family heirlooms are still where she had them. The cupboard. The pie safe. The sideboard. And your great-grandpa’s old secretary desk. We’ll have you set up and comfy before nightfall.”
Walking into the old home place without her mother to greet her was bittersweet, but Shirley took the home as the blessing it was, and by the time night fell, the moving van was long gone. All her sons had their own beds up in their own rooms, and she had her things around her again. Clothes were unpacked and put away, and they’d just sat down to supper at the kitchen table.
There were no sirens or dogs barking outside. No cars honking. No streetlights. Just the glow from the security light between the house and the barn, and their cars, lined up in front of the house like a used car lot.
Shirley looked at the faces of her sons, at the food before them and the familiarity of the room in which they were sitting, and then she sighed.
“Well, we’re here. And right now, I am at peace. Once again, my mother has saved my sanity and your futures.”
“Amen,” Aaron said.
“I’m thankful,” Sean said.
“I’m thankful,” Wiley added.
“Me, too,” B.J. said, and then pointed at the platter of cold fried chicken. “Somebody please pass the chicken. I’m starving.”
Their laughter was sudden, but it felt good to have something to laugh about.
The next few days were about settling in. Shirley walked the woods with her sons, showing them the woods and the creek where she and her brother had played in when they were little, and the pond where fish never quit biting. And then one bright morning, she took them to the place where the mountain laurel grew, and scattered her mother’s ashes.
“Love you, Mother. I’ll miss you forever. Rest in the peace you have given to us,” Shirley said, and wiped tears as her sons gathered around her. On the walk back, she showed them the creek that ran through their property. “This creek water is cold year-round. It comes from a long way up, out of a spring in the rocks at the top of the mountain. It runs all the way down through Jubilee, to a river miles and miles away.”
“Did you play here when you were little?” B.J. asked.
Shirley smiled. “When my brother and I weren’t doing chores or going to school, we lived in these woods, waded in these waters. Pope Mountain was our playground.”
Aaron saw the far-off look in his mother’s eyes as she gazed down into the swift running water, and knew she was remembering better days.
As they began to settle in, they talked about getting chickens for a chicken house long since empty, and after a week of sleeping in and lazy days, her sons began looking for jobs. Finding out that their relatives ran a lot of the businesses in Jubilee was a boon they hadn’t seen coming.
