blue-violet colors the breeze, softens the shadows, and tempers the rawness of the day. Even my white cotton dress took on a lavender cast.
Thankfully, Lutie wasn’t in a hurry. Tru ran ahead, filled with energy and too many sweets. He waved sparklers and wrote his name in trails of light. I was still a bit jittery.
“All shook up?” my aunt asked. I nodded. She looked calm, as if she socked men like Linc in the gut every day. Looking at her, I felt stronger somehow. I surprised myself that I’d begun to think of a complete stranger as “Dad.”
Lutie read my mind, or so I imagined. “Your daddy wasn’t perfect, I guess you know,” she said, nodding in Tru's direction, acknowledging his wild sparkler circles. “Joseph never could do anything just a little. He played too much, bragged too much, and dreamed too big. But there wasn’t a mean bone in his body. He never meant to cheat anyone, not even Linc.”
“Linc Jackson really is the king around here.”
Lutie laughed. “Bigger than Elvis, I’m sure. At least he thinks he is.”
My shoes slid on loose gravel, and I steadied myself against Lutie's shoulder. Someone had worked hard to grade this road. “What kind of work did my father do?” I hadn’t even known this about him, whether his hands were smooth or rough, or if his mind held more than the stuff of hard labor.
“Joseph had lots of different jobs. He was a real cowboy for a while, and then he sold office supplies in Tucson. He hated that job. Got work on the dam sites up in Washington, and that's where he lost two of his fingers. Blood poisoning. From the cement, you know.”
“How’d he come to Oregon?”
“He got on disability and bought this place with insurance money. The company paid him to go away, you could say. Joseph started drinking too much when he couldn’t buy your mother the fancy things she loved. You were born sometime around then, and he and your mom split up.”
“To marry Benjamin?” I shivered, although it was a warm evening.
“I suppose. He lost track of you for years. I was back in D.C. until Clinton was elected and hadn’t seen Joseph for a couple of years. He wanted to be a history teacher, you know. He finished a couple years of college before he married your mom.”
We were at the oven-door fence now, and I stopped. “You worked in Washington? I don’t know why, but I thought you’d grown up around here.” I had a little trouble imagining her in the high profile setting of federal politics.
Lutie laughed. “I wasn’t always a hayseed, young lady,” she said, weaving through the piles of discarded bike parts in the yard. “Joseph and I both had big dreams once. I was going to be a senator's wife, and he was going to write history books.”She sighed. “Things don’t always turn out the way you think they should.”
“Amen to that,” Tiny said, holding the screen door open. Jim stuck his snout out to greet us, as wheezy little noises came from where his oinks ought to be. “You’re home awful early.” My uncle fingered his red suspenders. “No fireworks this year?”
“Oh, there were plenty of those,” I assured him, grinning at Lutie.
“Now what's my Pearl gone and done this time?” Tiny wanted to know.
“Nothing that didn’t need doing,” she said, “and you’ll never guess what the Doc had on the menu.”
“Nobody you know,” Tru said, chuckling. He cast his spent fireworks in the dirt. “Emu. They had barbecued emu.”
We trooped inside where I plopped myself on the sofa, suddenly feeling as fizzled as the sparklers. Lutie proceeded to give Tiny a detailed account of the scene with Linc. Tru added sound effects like an old “Batman” episode.
My uncle listened, looking straight at her. Eye contact was something I’d never been able to command from Chaz. When she finished her story, Tiny massaged Lutie's shoulders gently and said he understood. The affection he poured on her was priceless in my view. A vacuum of
Thankfully, Lutie wasn’t in a hurry. Tru ran ahead, filled with energy and too many sweets. He waved sparklers and wrote his name in trails of light. I was still a bit jittery.
“All shook up?” my aunt asked. I nodded. She looked calm, as if she socked men like Linc in the gut every day. Looking at her, I felt stronger somehow. I surprised myself that I’d begun to think of a complete stranger as “Dad.”
Lutie read my mind, or so I imagined. “Your daddy wasn’t perfect, I guess you know,” she said, nodding in Tru's direction, acknowledging his wild sparkler circles. “Joseph never could do anything just a little. He played too much, bragged too much, and dreamed too big. But there wasn’t a mean bone in his body. He never meant to cheat anyone, not even Linc.”
“Linc Jackson really is the king around here.”
Lutie laughed. “Bigger than Elvis, I’m sure. At least he thinks he is.”
My shoes slid on loose gravel, and I steadied myself against Lutie's shoulder. Someone had worked hard to grade this road. “What kind of work did my father do?” I hadn’t even known this about him, whether his hands were smooth or rough, or if his mind held more than the stuff of hard labor.
“Joseph had lots of different jobs. He was a real cowboy for a while, and then he sold office supplies in Tucson. He hated that job. Got work on the dam sites up in Washington, and that's where he lost two of his fingers. Blood poisoning. From the cement, you know.”
“How’d he come to Oregon?”
“He got on disability and bought this place with insurance money. The company paid him to go away, you could say. Joseph started drinking too much when he couldn’t buy your mother the fancy things she loved. You were born sometime around then, and he and your mom split up.”
“To marry Benjamin?” I shivered, although it was a warm evening.
“I suppose. He lost track of you for years. I was back in D.C. until Clinton was elected and hadn’t seen Joseph for a couple of years. He wanted to be a history teacher, you know. He finished a couple years of college before he married your mom.”
We were at the oven-door fence now, and I stopped. “You worked in Washington? I don’t know why, but I thought you’d grown up around here.” I had a little trouble imagining her in the high profile setting of federal politics.
Lutie laughed. “I wasn’t always a hayseed, young lady,” she said, weaving through the piles of discarded bike parts in the yard. “Joseph and I both had big dreams once. I was going to be a senator's wife, and he was going to write history books.”She sighed. “Things don’t always turn out the way you think they should.”
“Amen to that,” Tiny said, holding the screen door open. Jim stuck his snout out to greet us, as wheezy little noises came from where his oinks ought to be. “You’re home awful early.” My uncle fingered his red suspenders. “No fireworks this year?”
“Oh, there were plenty of those,” I assured him, grinning at Lutie.
“Now what's my Pearl gone and done this time?” Tiny wanted to know.
“Nothing that didn’t need doing,” she said, “and you’ll never guess what the Doc had on the menu.”
“Nobody you know,” Tru said, chuckling. He cast his spent fireworks in the dirt. “Emu. They had barbecued emu.”
We trooped inside where I plopped myself on the sofa, suddenly feeling as fizzled as the sparklers. Lutie proceeded to give Tiny a detailed account of the scene with Linc. Tru added sound effects like an old “Batman” episode.
My uncle listened, looking straight at her. Eye contact was something I’d never been able to command from Chaz. When she finished her story, Tiny massaged Lutie's shoulders gently and said he understood. The affection he poured on her was priceless in my view. A vacuum of
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