The Sassy Belles by Beth Albright Page A

went on to become one of the
most recognized voices in sports radio. That’s the funny thing about being in
the media—sometimes a prison stint makes you even more interesting!
    Over the last few years, Lewis made his and his mother’s money
back with book deals and appearances. Bit by bit he worked himself out of the
red, and without any help from Harry. I don’t think Lewis ever forgave Harry for
treating him the way he did. Truthfully, I’m not sure it ever really mattered to
Harry.
    When their mother, Julia, died two years ago, Harry had stayed
around after the service to watch Julia’s casket descend into the muddy Southern
earth. I left him down near the gravesite alone to say goodbye to his beloved
mother. He was always her favorite and he knew it. But Julia’s constant doting
on her favorite eldest son put responsibilities on Harry that otherwise wouldn’t
have been there. Harry felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. The Heart
legacy, the Heart name, was his and his alone to propel into eternity, for the
world to know and respect.
    Much of the family, Julia included, had already written Lewis
off as an unredeemable philanderer. Booze, gambling and women all seemed to
gravitate in Lewis’s direction. It was Harry that everyone depended upon,
counted upon. And as in every aspect of his life, Harry would have to be
perfect. He expected it of himself more than anyone else did. Eventually the
perfection he insisted upon became unbearable for, well, both of us. I’d come to
realize that there were only two things Harry really cared about: his career and
his mother. His drive for perfection didn’t seem to exist when it came to
romance and marriage. Lately, it seemed as though these things were only an
afterthought for Harry, if he had ever really considered them at all.
    The day they buried Julia, I could see that Harry felt guilty.
Guilty that he hadn’t done more, guilty that he hadn’t been able to save her
like he always had, guilty that she never understood the whole story of why
Lewis left the family. Harry had protected her from the God-awful truth. Now
that she was gone, I think he was also partly ashamed for never forgiving
Lewis.
    When Harry was saying his last words to her, just before they
began to crank the casket down, he looked up to remove his glasses, dabbing his
eyes, and he caught Lewis in his peripheral vision. A starched white shirt, dark
crimson tie and khakis—Lewis’s work uniform. He had obviously just left the
pre-season show on campus. That Bama crimson is what caught Harry’s eye. He
hadn’t laid eyes on Lewis in person for over four years, and the sight of him
clearly took his breath away. He was caught. I could see the emotions warring
within him as I watched him try to decide how to react. The Heart Book of
Emotional Rules clearly states, “Hold a grudge with a white-knuckle
grip—especially if it is against a family member.”
    Yet the sensible, responsible Harry decided to make an
amendment to the rule. Unless the person begrudged needs to
say goodbye to his dead mother. Harry himself would not break the
rules. No, he was too “Heart” for that. As Lewis approached from across the
rain-soaked cemetery, Harry kissed his first two fingers and gently touched the
coffin, and then turned away. He did not speak to Lewis or even motion a wave or
an acknowledgment. He just turned and walked away. He had allowed Lewis to
approach, and that amendment to the “Rules” was enough. While I’m sure he’d
never admit it, I could tell that part of him wanted to scream at Lewis for not
being a better son, a better brother, a better anything. But another part of
him, I knew, wanted to grab him and hold him. He was, after all, the only family
Harry had left now. But he did neither. Instead, he made his way up the hill to
me.
    That’s the same Harry I saw in the police station as we looked
at the muddy clothes strewn out upon the desk. A Harry needing to speak, but
unable to