eyes.
“Sure,” Tommy said. “Why don’t you run on home and we’ll see you in a bit. I think Jake’s mom is gonna make brownies tonight.”
Katie took off across the backyard toward her parents’ deck, arms out as though she was playing airplane. Tommy set Jake down and shut off the sprinkler, then stood and looked again at his son.
“Mom wants you to put something dry on.”
Jake smiled, pointing at him. “She’s going to want you to put something dry on, too.”
“No doubt,” Tommy said. “C’mere, bud.”
He hoisted the boy up again and went up to the screen door, letting them inside. Melissa had been watching from the kitchen window, a wistful look on her face.
“Dry clothes, Jakey,” she said.
“I can do it! I’ll get ’em!” the boy said, reaching to be put down.
Tommy let him down and Jake tore through into the living room and then they heard him bounding up the stairs. He’d kick his clothes off onto the carpet of his bedroom and put dry clothes on, but that was all right. They’d pick the dirty clothes up later.
Melissa slipped her arms around Tommy and pushed up close. He liked her there, where he could smell her hair and trace his hands along the small of her back.
“It’s been so good for him, having you home for a while,” she said, her breath warm on his neck. “It’s been good for you, too.”
“Yeah,” he said. And that was all.
There were so many thoughts he might have shared with her, but Tommy had never been that kind of man. In that, he took after his father. He would have felt like a fool trying to explain to Melissa that the time he spent with Jake seemed to make it easier to deal with his father’s death, and to make it harder as well. But he wanted every moment he could have with them, there at home, because the doctor had been clear about his prognosis. Another week, two at the most, and he’d have to go back to work.
He’d have to go back down into the mine.
Jake came down the stairs and pranced into the kitchen to show off the t-shirt and shorts he’d put on. The shirt was on backwards, but Tommy didn’t mention it. The kid was so damned proud of himself.
The t-shirt had a bunch of trucks on it. Jake loved building things and even at five, thought the coolest job in the world had to be making bridges and skyscrapers. “I want to build a whole city,” he’d said once, not long ago.
“Good job, buddy,” Tommy said.
“Dinner!” Jake commanded, slipping into his seat at the table and picking up his fork and knife, ready to eat.
“Yes, your majesty. Coming right up,” Melissa said, rolling her eyes with a soft chuckle.
“Then brownies!” Jakey cried.
“But of course.”
Tommy had to control the temptation to talk about the trucks on Jake’s shirt, one of which was a crane. Melissa had already pointed out how much he’d been harping the past couple of weeks on the construction thing. Jake was only five, she’d said. He’d change his mind almost daily about what he wanted to be when he grew up. Tommy had told her that all he wanted was to make sure Jake went to college. No one in his family had ever been to college.
College, somewhere away from West Virginia. Away from the mine.
He wanted his son to grow up to get a job doing something he loved, something that would make him happy. Hopefully. But if not, Tommy wanted Jake to do something he hated. Anything, really, except following in Daddy’s footsteps. Anything except the mine.
But college cost a lot of money. Nobody in the Betts family had ever gotten that kind of education. Hell, Tommy was the first one to finish high school. They were a mining family, like so many others in the area. The odds were against them, and against Jake finding a different sort of life for himself.
And so tonight, before bed, Tommy would tell Jake the first of the stories. Oh, he’d been telling his son stories almost every night, the past couple of months. All kinds of stories. But as of tonight, he
“Sure,” Tommy said. “Why don’t you run on home and we’ll see you in a bit. I think Jake’s mom is gonna make brownies tonight.”
Katie took off across the backyard toward her parents’ deck, arms out as though she was playing airplane. Tommy set Jake down and shut off the sprinkler, then stood and looked again at his son.
“Mom wants you to put something dry on.”
Jake smiled, pointing at him. “She’s going to want you to put something dry on, too.”
“No doubt,” Tommy said. “C’mere, bud.”
He hoisted the boy up again and went up to the screen door, letting them inside. Melissa had been watching from the kitchen window, a wistful look on her face.
“Dry clothes, Jakey,” she said.
“I can do it! I’ll get ’em!” the boy said, reaching to be put down.
Tommy let him down and Jake tore through into the living room and then they heard him bounding up the stairs. He’d kick his clothes off onto the carpet of his bedroom and put dry clothes on, but that was all right. They’d pick the dirty clothes up later.
Melissa slipped her arms around Tommy and pushed up close. He liked her there, where he could smell her hair and trace his hands along the small of her back.
“It’s been so good for him, having you home for a while,” she said, her breath warm on his neck. “It’s been good for you, too.”
“Yeah,” he said. And that was all.
There were so many thoughts he might have shared with her, but Tommy had never been that kind of man. In that, he took after his father. He would have felt like a fool trying to explain to Melissa that the time he spent with Jake seemed to make it easier to deal with his father’s death, and to make it harder as well. But he wanted every moment he could have with them, there at home, because the doctor had been clear about his prognosis. Another week, two at the most, and he’d have to go back to work.
He’d have to go back down into the mine.
Jake came down the stairs and pranced into the kitchen to show off the t-shirt and shorts he’d put on. The shirt was on backwards, but Tommy didn’t mention it. The kid was so damned proud of himself.
The t-shirt had a bunch of trucks on it. Jake loved building things and even at five, thought the coolest job in the world had to be making bridges and skyscrapers. “I want to build a whole city,” he’d said once, not long ago.
“Good job, buddy,” Tommy said.
“Dinner!” Jake commanded, slipping into his seat at the table and picking up his fork and knife, ready to eat.
“Yes, your majesty. Coming right up,” Melissa said, rolling her eyes with a soft chuckle.
“Then brownies!” Jakey cried.
“But of course.”
Tommy had to control the temptation to talk about the trucks on Jake’s shirt, one of which was a crane. Melissa had already pointed out how much he’d been harping the past couple of weeks on the construction thing. Jake was only five, she’d said. He’d change his mind almost daily about what he wanted to be when he grew up. Tommy had told her that all he wanted was to make sure Jake went to college. No one in his family had ever been to college.
College, somewhere away from West Virginia. Away from the mine.
He wanted his son to grow up to get a job doing something he loved, something that would make him happy. Hopefully. But if not, Tommy wanted Jake to do something he hated. Anything, really, except following in Daddy’s footsteps. Anything except the mine.
But college cost a lot of money. Nobody in the Betts family had ever gotten that kind of education. Hell, Tommy was the first one to finish high school. They were a mining family, like so many others in the area. The odds were against them, and against Jake finding a different sort of life for himself.
And so tonight, before bed, Tommy would tell Jake the first of the stories. Oh, he’d been telling his son stories almost every night, the past couple of months. All kinds of stories. But as of tonight, he
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