As Tears Go By

  The more he considered the possibilities the more he wanted to build it. He was so motivated, he wanted to start mapping out the plans that very minute.

  Rather than return to the big house, he took a walk to his acreage on the mountain. Unkempt grass waved like amber over the open space. Autumn’s last buzzing insects hovered above the softened reeds of the meadow. It was a flat surface begging for purpose and offering countless possibilities. He smiled, thinking of how much Hunter would enjoy a safe yard to run in.

  To the outside world, it would appear he was just standing in the open, staring at a patch of undeveloped earth. But in his mind, walls were erecting, calculations were formulating, angles were deriving from theorems, and colors were cataloguing every design decision. Perhaps his passion, architecture, was his own personal portion of the autism spectrum, because when he got lost in his ideas it truly did consume him.

  The crunch of leaves distracted him from his thoughts. Turning, he found his father slowly approaching. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” His dad came to stand beside him, taking in the view. “You thinking about finally doing something with this land?”

  “Yeah. Been thinking about it all morning.”

  “This sudden initiative have anything to do with the lass?”

  Braydon smiled, hoping he could convince her to be a part of his plans. “I hope.”

  “She’s a sweet girl. Her friends are a little off, but your mother’s enjoying them.”

  He chuckled, and his dad sighed.

  “I remember staring at open land the same way you are now. I’d just married your mother without really thinking things through. Her father was trying to kill me every chance he got and I knew I screwed up. But there was something in my heart that told me I’d do it all over again, just to have your mother as my wife.”

  “Is that when you built the big house?”

  Frank made a gruff sound. “A house is a huge undertaking. I’ve always been impressed with your ability to go out and build things from nothing, Braydon. Most people don’t possess that sort of vision.”

  “You did.”

  His father shook his head and kicked a bit of dirt with his boot. “I cut down a tree.”

  “What?”

  “I was pissed off at the world. I had no money, no way of buying a home. My dad gave me a plot, but what the hell good was that with nothin’ to put there? When I started dating your mother, I carved our initials in a tree. After we eloped I did a lot of hiding. I was hiding from her father, maybe hiding from her a little too.

  “I wound up standing right in front of that tree. As I stared at our weathered initials and the word ‘forever’ carved beneath them, I felt like the greatest failure. I was so furious with my shortsightedness, I went to my truck, grabbed my ax, and chopped down the tree.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I promised her forever and I couldn’t deliver. I was just a kid. That night, I went to face her father—and her. It had only been a few weeks. I thought if we acted fast, maybe the marriage could be annulled, and Maureen could marry a decent man that could provide for her the way she deserved.”

  Yet, here they were, nearly forty years later. Something had to have stopped his father from getting that annulment. “What happened?”

  “Your grandfather tried to shoot me again.” Frank chuckled then turned serious. “I couldn’t see how our marriage was going to work. We were up against so many complications. When I sat her down to tell her just that, she surprised the hell out of me by confessing she was pregnant.”

  “With Kate?”

  He shook his head, an expression of sadness weighing on his face like nothing Braydon had ever seen. “No. This one would have been named Mary, after Maureen’s mother.”

  Braydon’s lips parted with shock. His heart raced, as his eyes remained unblinking. His parents never spoke of suffering such a loss. “I didn’t know.”

  “We don’t mention her. Your mom lost her early on.”

  “You knew it was a girl?”

  “We’ll never know, but your mother swears it. Says she could tell.”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  “Once a year we go up to the far end of the north side. There’s a copse of weeping cherry blossoms there. She was so early, there really wasn’t anything to…you understand. So I planted trees and had a stone carved with Mary’s name on it. I brought your mother there and wrote down all of our hopes and dreams, all of our promises, and we buried them there under Mary’s stone for her to keep.”

  The hair covering his arms stood on end as the sentiment sent chills down his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  He nodded. “I promised your mother a home and a family so great she’d never feel that sort of hollow emptiness again.” He cleared his throat. “The night she lost the baby I told Paulie and Colleen everything that happened. Paulie went with me to find the tree I cut down a few weeks before. Part of me felt like when I cut that tree I…” His father lost his composure for a moment and Braydon turned, pressing a comforting hand to his shoulder.

  He gathered himself and continued. “For some reason I felt like that tree was connected to Mary, to us and our future. We brought it to the top of the mountain and now it sits in the wall beside our bed. I built your mother the house she deserved and I think we’ve done all right making it a home.”

  Braydon’s lips tightened into a sad smile. “Yeah, you did, Dad. The big house is a masterpiece.”

  “You kids make it so. Your mother and I would love to see you come home and make a life here, Braydon. This is where you belong.”

  “It wouldn’t be the life I predicted.”

  “Only fools and prophets try to envision God’s plan, Braydon. Regardless of what your mother thinks, you’re not Christ.”

  He laughed. No he certainly wasn’t. “I have to get her to marry me first.”

  “Like every other man alive and in love, you give it your best and hope she takes pity on your soul and says yes. Show her what you’re capable of. Build her a home that’s more than just a house. Make her see the promise of your future together. Family thrives on this land and something tells me she’s meant to be here.”

  “I think so too.”

  A stream of cackles and the loud tear of small engines ripping over the distance interrupted their conversation. He frowned. “Did they take out the quads?”

  “Oh, the Devil took your guests for a ride. Alec’s napping. Poor fool had no idea what he was marrying into. I can sympathize.”

  The quads drew nearer and Braydon turned. Sheilagh and Nikki shared one and Carla and Becca were on the other. Carla was driving and Becca’s screams echoed through the trees. “At least they’re wearing helmets.”

  “At least. Come on, let’s go rummage through the leftovers.”

  * * * *

  It didn’t take long for Braydon’s mother to get wind of his plans. Normally, he’d be aggravated by her interference, but being that she was campaigning hard for everything he wanted, he didn’t try to stop her.

  Sheilagh and Alec left for Princeton Saturday morning. Nikki and Carla left Saturday afternoon, but before they left Carla demanded one last trip to O’Malley’s to say goodbye to Kelly.

  The house seemed quiet once everyone departed and he finally saw what Sheilagh warned him about with the flirtatious glances his father would send his mother. He had to remind them several times they still had guests in the house, but it was nice to see his parents still so in love.

  “Ma!” he yelled, walking in on another game of grab ass.

  “Sorry, love. You’re father’s a virile man.”

  He held up a palm. “Stop, before I need a cleaver to carve out my mind’s eye.”

  Maureen winked at Becca. “What are you love birds up to this afternoon? You should show Becca around the mountain. Maybe take her for a tour of the town. It’s nothing like the city. There’s something magical about living in such a small town where everyone knows everyone. Wouldn’
t you agree, Frank?”

  His father gave a silent nod of agreement.

  They ended up driving around the mountain for most of the afternoon. Becca was thrilled to spot a few stags, but the bear were nowhere to be found this time of year. They drove into town and had dinner at a small diner, then strolled past the darkened storefronts as Braydon pointed out each shop and gave a brief description of each storeowner.

  “You know everyone,” she said with astonishment.

  “Pretty much. This is one of those towns where the butcher’s the mechanic’s son, and the pharmacist’s nephew. The pharmacist’s wife is the preschool teacher and the director of the preschool is the taxidermist’s daughter, who also happens to be the clerk at the farmers’ market Ashlynn owns, thereby relating somehow or another to the McCulloughs. There’re so many of us, we seem to have a connection to everyone.”

  They passed the mechanic’s house located around the corner from Main Street. “Oh,” Becca gasped. “Look at this place.”

  Braydon took in the old Victorian. “What is it you love about it?”

  “It’s so charming. You never see picket fences like that anymore. And look at those shutters. It’s enchanting.”

  “They’re handmade by the local carpenter.” He made a mental note to give their home a Victorian exterior. He’d talk to the carpenter as soon as he had the dimensions and windows figured out. The picket fence would be a little tricky, being that it would have to be high enough to act as security. He could manage it.

  When they returned to the big house, Becca was quiet. Braydon climbed into bed and pulled her close, sensing her melancholy. “What’s wrong?”

  She sighed. “I miss Hunter.”

  “We’re leaving tomorrow. We can be home by ten if you’d like.”

  “Kevin doesn’t drop him off until late afternoon.” Her lips pursed. “But knowing him, he’ll have no problem dropping him off early.”

  “Maybe you could call and tell him we’ll be back earlier than expected.”

  “Thank you for understanding.”

  “Of course.” He kissed her nose.

  The weekend had run its course and while it turned out to be a wonderful visit, he, too, was anxious to return home and draw out some of his plans. That night Becca’s mind was on her son and he sensed her homesickness. Rather than make love, he simply held her as they talked softly about their pasts.

  The following morning, Becca was packed and dressed before Braydon even opened his eyes. Knowing she was longing for her son, he hurried to make his goodbyes and got them on the road by eight. His parents didn’t make the usual stink about him leaving, because they knew he’d be back again soon.

  When they returned to Becca’s she pouted at the absence of her tree, still not used to seeing her yard so empty. “The house looks lonely.”

  He was about to suggest they plant a new tree closer to the house, but he kept silent, rather, deciding he’d plant an elm just like the one she lost in their new yard.

  Kevin was scheduled to drop Hunter off that afternoon. Braydon wanted to get back to his home office to start working on the plans for the house, so he said goodbye to Becca shortly after carrying in her luggage. As he was starting his car another car pulled in behind him. Braydon frowned. Looked like Kevin decided to drop his son off a bit earlier than expected.

  The car blocking his exit beeped, and he met the other man’s stare in the rearview. He was curious to see what sort of man Becca’s ex was.

  Though Becca planned to call him, she hadn’t yet. What would the man have done if they were still out of town? Braydon wondered if her ex still treated her home as his own at times. The thought made him uncomfortable.

  Becca emerged from the house, her eyes a bit nervous, but her excitement to reunite with Hunter was evident in her pace. She pranced to the car and helped Hunter out. Kevin climbed out as well and Braydon frowned. Did he usually stick around?

  Becca worked to guide Hunter toward the house. Kevin followed her, talking at a fast clip and glancing back at Braydon’s car as Hunter twisted in her grip and laughed. He approached Braydon’s car and bounced, his small hands pressing on the glass.

  Bray couldn’t leave without saying hello, especially since Hunter appeared excited about his presence, which was beyond flattering.

  Turning off the car, he climbed out. “Hey, Hunter.”

  Hunter paced and laughed, but didn’t say hello, only registering Braydon’s greeting in short glances fixated on his proximity.

  “Hi. I’m Kevin, Becca’s husband.”

  Not anymore. Braydon held out his hand. “Braydon McCullough.” This was awkward.

  Becca tensed. Hunter was commenting on various things and seemed to be in a fairly pleasant mood. They stood in silence for a moment.

  “What’s your association with my wife?”

  “Kevin,” Becca said in an impatient tone.

  There was no need to beat around the bush. The guy knew they’d just gone away together. “I’m dating her.”

  His face hardened at Braydon’s bluntness. “Doesn’t take long for you to move on, I see,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Becca didn’t miss a beat. “I’m still light-years behind you. At least I waited for the sheets to cool, but they were never really that hot to begin with.”

  He wanted to give her a high five, but kept his expression blank. That’s it, angel, don’t take any shit from this clown!

  “And whose fault was that?”

  Whoa! Braydon’s head jerked in the other man’s direction, Hunter’s presence the only thing holding him back from cleaning this asshole’s clock.

  Becca’s face flushed deep red. “I’m not discussing this with you. Pop the trunk so I can get Hunter’s bag. Braydon, will you keep an eye on Hunter?”

  “Sure.” But he’d also be keeping an eye on the other man.

  Her ex followed as she moved to retrieve Hunter’s belongings. The man continued to drill her with questions and accusations, but didn’t open the trunk.

  “Want to go inside and play piano, Hunter?” Braydon asked, his focus on the quarrelsome ex.

  “Yeah.”

  Unsure how to guide Hunter without triggering a negative reaction, he carefully laid a hand on the boy’s arm, which he immediately shouldered off. “Show me where the door is, bud.”

  Hunter took the steps slowly, his attention diverting to the numbers on the house and the plant sitting by the steps.

  It was crucial that Braydon do this right. He took a moment to see what caught Hunter’s interest. “Do you like plants?”

  His head tipped to the side as his eyes squinted. His fingers released the waxy leaf and shook off the feeling as though the tactile sensation was revolting to him. “Slippery.”

  Braydon touched the plant. “Yeah. How about some piano now?”

  Hunter stepped to the door, the distraction of the plant forgotten, and Braydon got him situated as quickly as possible. He immediately started playing a beautiful piece Braydon didn’t recognize. So long as they could hear the piano through the walls, Braydon felt safe stepping away for a minute. He returned to the front porch where Kevin’s posture had taken a hostile turn, crowding over Becca’s smaller form in a way that had the hair on the back of Braydon’s neck rising.

  Becca’s motions were jerky and obviously agitated. His teeth clamped tight as he marched down the porch steps.

  “Open the trunk, Kevin,” Becca repeated.

  “How long? Was this going on before I left?”

  “Kevin, pop the damn trunk or I’m going inside.”

  Knowing Becca didn’t typically swear Braydon drew closer, his attention divided between her and the sound of the piano playing. Should the music stop, Braydon would need to rush back inside with Hunter, which he was prepared to do at a second’s notice.

  “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with Hunter being around some guy I don’t know. You’re supposed to be taking care of our son.”

  And that, a
pparently, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Becca got right in his face, stabbing a finger into the man’s chest. “I am taking care of him, just like I’ve done since the day he was born. Who I invite into my home and who I expose Hunter to while he’s in my custody is none of your business and you have no right to question my judgment when I’ve been the one to make every difficult decision since day one. If you wanted the right to an opinion you should have taken your family a little more seriously.”

  “He’s my son. I have every right to question you.”

  “Why, because you’re suddenly taking some court ordered responsibility in his life?”

  Intervening, Braydon swiftly opened the driver’s side door, and pressed the trunk button. The tailgate popped open and Kevin scowled at him. “Get out of my car.”

  “Get away from my woman.”

  Becca notably tensed, her attention drawn to the house. Her shoulders relaxed as she registered Hunter was playing the piano and therefore not in any trouble.

  The man jerked back and laughed, not at all concerned about where his son had gotten off to the way Becca was. “Woman? Nice. Didn’t know you had a thing for rednecks, Rebecca.”

  Rather than get into some pissing match with a guy who clearly never appreciated Becca, Braydon strolled to the rear of the vehicle and reached for Hunter’s bag, so they could return to where they were needed.

  “Who do you think you are?” Kevin snapped.

  Bray took Becca’s hand. “I’m the replacement. The last guy didn’t do the job, so the higher ups brought someone in who could handle things better. Thanks for dropping Hunter off. We’ll see you Wednesday.”

  Grasping Becca’s clammy palm, he removed her from the hostile environment. They entered the house where Hunter still played and Braydon shut and locked the door. He stashed his bag on the table and turned to Becca, who was shaking with adrenaline.

  “He gets me so angry!” she hissed.

  “Yeah, he’s a real prize.” He looked out the window wondering what she ever saw in that rat. “He’s gone now.”