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I start up my “cruising in the car” playlist of songs, and for the next hour as I roll along the highway, I empty my mind and sing my heart away.
When I get to the cabin, I park the car next to my brother’s drone. The front door slams open and Sam comes running down the porch steps. “Uncle Wyatt, come quick. We’ve got real burgers on the barbecue!”
“Real ones?” I ask, hugging my nephew and ruffling his sandy hair.
“Yep,” he says, with a pop of the p.
“Well, let me just get my stuff out of the trunk, then we can go eat.”
Moments later, I walk into the rustic wooden cabin and drop my bag in my room before hurrying out into the yard where the tantalizing smell of smoky meat draws me like a magnet. I spot my brother by the barbecue with my two nephews nearby, getting the table set for our meal.
My brother’s face breaks into a wide grin on seeing me. I stride over and drop an arm over his shoulder. “What’s this I hear about real meat burgers?” I ask.
“I figured you could do with some cheering up, so I splashed out for the real thing. Go get yourself a plate; they’re all ready. Buns are over there.”
“Thanks, Dylan.”
I help myself to a burger and bun, as well as some broiled corn on the cob, then sit down at the table with my nephews, Sam and Nicky. Dylan soon joins us and for a while, we focus on the joy of eating real, delicious burgers. “Hmm, so good,” I say, licking meat juices off my finger.
“Can’t beat the real thing,” agrees my brother.
“Why can’t we always eat like this?” asks Sam plaintively.
“Because of global warming, silly,” retorts his brother.
Dylan looks sternly at his ten-year-old son. “Nicky, that was rude of you. There’s no need to call your brother names. Apologize.”
“Sorry,” he mutters.
Dylan addresses his younger son. “When I was a young boy like you, we ate meat all the time, but it started to cause problems for our environment. You see, cows like to fart a lot, and their farts have gases in them that aren’t so good for our planet, so we needed to have fewer of them. We still get to eat meat, like we are today, but it’s more of a special treat than an everyday food.”
“Will we ever get to eat it all the time like you did? It’s not fair you got to have it and we don’t!”
That makes me chuckle. “I think you’ll soon find out, Sam, that life isn’t fair.”
Dylan strokes his son’s cheek gently. “I’ll tell you something, son. I enjoy my burger far more now that it’s a rare treat, than I ever did when I could have one every day. Sometimes having to wait for things makes you appreciate them more.”
At this, a little voice inside my head can’t help but ask.Did it take Melinda leaving you for you to truly appreciate her?
I’m not liking the answer to that question. God, what a fucking mess.
???
It’s late evening and the boys are safely tucked up in bed. Dylan and I are lazing on the back porch, beers in hand. A light breeze ruffles my hair in the otherwise still and silent night. The dark sky is clear tonight, the backdrop to millions of shimmering distant stars. I gaze up at them, wondering which one of those tiny dots is the sun around which Krovatia orbits.
Dylan interrupts my train of thought. “So, how are you doing?”
I shrug. “Feels like I’m stuck in a time loop, dragging through all the same shit over and over again.”
My brother takes a chug of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Then break the cycle.”
I raise my brow at him. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Gee thanks bro. Why didn’t I think of it?”
“Mock all you like Wyatt, but you just said it yourself. You’re stuck in a loop. Three years on from Melinda leaving, and you’re still hung up on her. Unless you do something about it, you’re just gonna be in the same place in another three years. Is that what you want?”
