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“And he draws,” Ethan blurted, brushing at the tears that had, after all his attempts at holding them back, begun trailing down his dusty cheeks.
“Does he now?” his dad smiled at him affectionately, the skin surrounding his eyes crinkling with careful amusement.
“Yeah… He draws these beautiful sketches, Dad…” Ethan’s voice hitched. “That’s why his fingers are always stained black.” He looked at his dad, who nodded at him reassuringly. “And he’s a fucking nightmare on the road. He hums along to every goddamn sad love song he can think of… Jarvis this and Morrissey that. And he’s like a kid when it comes to food… I mean, what twenty-eight-year-old lives off strawberry milkshakes and Reese’s Cups? He’s just so… and I’m not… I’m not…” Ethan looked at his dad, who smiled at him, the way he’d always smiled at his firstborn. Whether Ethan had just crashed his bike or had gotten an A on his history test. Or whether he’d convinced his younger siblings to steal apples or forgotten to close the door to the chicken coop. With fondness and love.
“But you love him,” his dad’s voice wrapped around him like a soft blanket.
“Of course, I fucking love him, Dad! What’s not to love?” Ethan brushed furiously at a tear that hung from his chin.
“Well, you tell me? Because apparently there must be somethin’…” he nodded challengingly at Ethan.
“He’s too good for me.”
“Bullshit.”
“Dad…” Ethan sighed, biting the inside of his right cheek.
“I think he’s just right for ya.”
“Dad… You don’t know that.”
“Oh, but I do know that. You wanna know how I know that?” His dad took a step towards Ethan and sat down next to him, his right knee squeaking in the process. Ethan nodded weakly, still brushing at his tearstained cheeks. “Because I know you, son. I’ve known you since the minute I first saw ya. And you know what? You are good too, Ethan.”
“Dad…”
“You are. You’re a good and decent man. You’re a good son. All those weeks, sometimes months at a time, I was away in Dallas or Austin. Who was there for your mamma and your brothers? Always busting your ass at Peterson’s to make ends meet.” A dark shadow swept across his dad’s face. “I know I depended too much on ya, son. I see that now. It should never have been your responsibility to help provide for our family, but I was struggling to make ends meet and somewhere along the way that struggle became yours, too. But I’m telling you now that that’s not your burden to bear. Not anymore.”
“Dad, I never saw it as a burden. Don’t say that. It’s my family, too…” Ethan’s voice came out raspy. It was the first time in his life that his dad opened to him like this and somehow, he felt his dad’s honesty chipping away at his resolve to be strong.
“It is and I love you for thinkin’ like that. I do, son, but it was never right. But that’s just the kinda man you are. You’re a good brother, Ethan. A good friend. You’re the reason Matty came away from that awful childhood with more than a shred of humanity left in him. Because you’re a good friend and because you were good to him when hardly anyone else was. So don’t you dare sit there and tell me that you aren’t good enough for someone like Avery.”
“But what about the farm? I can’t just keep Peterson hanging…”
“You can and you will. That farm is still gonna be here when you get back. Or if we are real lucky, you won’t wanna come back at all unless it’s for a birthday or a holiday.”
“But…“
“What? Are you gonna bust your ass like your old man for the rest of your life until every goddamn bone in your body hurts every damn minute of the day?” He tapped at his right knee. “I want more for you and your brothers. I’ve always wanted more for you. I’m not ever gonna give you the‘if it’s good enough for me’crap. No, sir. I’ll consider it a failure as a parent if you kids end up busting your asses in the fields whether they’re made outta corn, oil or covered in concrete.”
“There’s nothin’ wrong with good honest work, Dad.”
“No, there ain’t. But there’s nothin’ wrong with wantin’ more either… You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. No reason why you can’t be anything you want.”
“You’ve got it all figured out, huh?” Ethan shook his head, feeling the fear slowly loosening its grip on him.
“Sure do. Now what’s the real problem, cowboy?” His dad kicked his own dusty cowboy boot against Ethan’s equally dusty one. “You afraid you’re gonna fall off the horse?”
“Yeah… maybe…” Ethan couldn’t help chuckling.
“Yeah, I thought so… Whatcha gonna do if you fall off?” His dad pushed at his shoulder.
“I’m gonna get back up right away.”
“You will. Good boy. Now, let’s go save that young professor of yours from your mamma. If I’m not mistaken, she’s pulled out the heavy guns by now, showin’ him your baby pictures, naked butts, and all.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Ethan – Now
