beginning. Your beginning. I've got plenty of time.” I looked at my naked wrist like I was checking the time on a watch when I’d never even owned one. I slid to the floor and brought my knees to my chest with my back against the bed and tried not to tap my toe on the carpet although it was practically tingling to do just that.
My mother looked out the window as she recalled her story. "Well, I was born a rebel, refusing to come out into the world for a full three days." She shook her head. "My poor mother. I grew up in a religious household and when my parents both died I was passed on to the church elders to raise since I was only fifteen when they passed."
"I'm sorry," I offered, my gut twisting at the news of my grandparents that she'd never spoken about.
"No worries. It was a long time ago. But it was only then I realized that my parents were unique members of the church. In our house, we didn't have to lower our eyes and we could speak whenever we felt like we had something to say, but that wasn't the standard. Far from it. It was a severe way to grow up and I never embraced it."
Neither did I.
"Every day when I woke up I saw the light fading from my eyes as more and more rules were pushed down my throat. By the time they informed me that I was to be married to this man of the church. Richard was his name. She cringed. "I'd all but given up. I didn't know life outside the church and didn't think I could make it on my own. I had hoped that maybe Richard would be more like my parents. It only took meeting him a few times for to realize he was perhaps the worst of them all. He treated me like a dog on the leash and always made sure the collar allowed me to breath but always reminded me that just one pull in the wrong direction and I'd be choking."
I was crying inside for my mother but tried to remain impassive on the outside.
It wasn’t easy.
"One weekend, my guardians brought me along to a tent revival service to help. We stayed in a little motel and I'd go for walks around the town whenever I could sneak away for an hour or so. One day I saw a truck and camper for sale in a junkyard and something came over me. An idea I couldn't shake.” My mother took up her knitting and placed it back down again.
She continued. “On the day I married Richard, I stole a gold crucifix that belonged to Richard and I brought it to the junkyard. I traded it and my wedding ring for the camper and the truck. I didn't make it far before the truck broke down on the side of the road. I got out and walked to find help and made sure to walk in the opposite direction of the fairgrounds because although the freedom I'd tasted was only a few miles from the fairgrounds I knew I'd never be going back. And that walk in the middle of the night all by myself? It was glorious. My first taste of actual freedom. The sounds of the swamp at night." She closed her eyes like she could still hear it. Then she inhaled deeply through her nose. "The smell of salty water and the Sulphur." She opened her eyes again. "By the time I realized I was lost I didn't care if anyone ever found me ever again. I fell down an embankment and got stuck on this tiny strip of muddy land but it was too steep to climb my way back up to the top. As the water rose I thought for sure that I was going to die there."
"What did you do?" I asked, leaning forward.
She shrugged and took up her knitting again. "There was nothing I could do. And there was something so...freeing about the experience that I sat down in the mud and I...I just started to laugh. And that's when Critter found me. Sitting in the mud, the water rising all around me, when he zipped by on his little boat and did a double take. He stopped and pulled me out. I was covered in mosquito bites, mud from head to toe, and soaking wet and do you know what that man did?" she asked with a loving smile.
"No. What did he do?" I asked, leaning forward.
She smiled in a way that told me she couldn’t believe it herself. "He started to laugh right along with me. The man had no idea why I was laughing, but joined right on in. He took me back to his bar and while I cleaned me up and changed my clothes he went and towed the truck and camper back to the bar. When I walked out all cleaned and mud free he looked up at me and I'll never forget what he said.”
"What? What did he say?" I asked.
"He looked up and said, it's you. Like he'd been waiting for me his entire life." She looked out the window to where Critter was sitting on the porch, rocking in the chair, fiddling with something on his lap. "And then, before the coffee was ready in the morning, we'd fallen madly and deeply in love."
"That's a beautiful story," I said, and it really was. "What about this Richard guy?” I looked to the walls and to the floor then back again. Anywhere but at my mother. “Was...is he the father of your baby?"
My mother shook her head. "No, gosh no. I left before our wedding night took place. It luckily never got that far. This big baby girl right here," she patted her belly, "or at least I think she's a she, is one hundred percent Critter."
One hundred percent...Critter.
"You said you two are married? You and Critter I mean?”
"I sure am," she answered, humming and knitting once again. "The marriage to Richard was only a church ceremony. No paperwork so it wasn’t legal in the eyes of the state. Luckily for me, the church abided by god's law, but not man's. Then, I was free to marry Critter.”
She’s legally married to Critter.
My mother looked as if she was about to say something but she stopped before the words came out. She turned her head from one side to the other like she was seeing me for the first time. There was a clarity in her eyes that wasn't there earlier, along with something else.
Recognition.
My stomach flipped. My heart hammered in my ears.
"Sawyer?" she asked in a whisper, blinking rapidly. “Is that you?”
"Yes, mother. It's me," I said as gently as I could, keeping my expression as even as possible. I hadn't even realized I was crawling across the carpet toward her until I was kneeling before her, staring up into familiar loving eyes.
"My baby girl. It really is you," she said, dropping from the chair to her knees in front of me. She pulled me in for a hug and I couldn't stop the tears once they started and neither could my mother. We sat there, hugging and crying into each other's arms. "You're alive. He told me you were but I didn’t believe him. I needed to see you. You made it out. I'm sorry," she said into my hair, peppering kisses along my frizzy head. "I'm sorry for everything."
"I made it out mom. Because of you. Because of your letter and the box and your instructions. You sent me here. You got me out," I told her. As I spoke I felt some of the resentment I had been feeling toward her start to dissipate.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” she cried. “I couldn't. I needed to keep you safe. Forgive me sweet girl. I did what I thought was best but I made a mess of everything. I have so much to tell you," I said, sobbing against her. “There is more you need to know.”
"You don’t have to tell me all of it now," I replied against her shoulder as she squeezed me repeatedly as if she needed a constant reminder that I was really there as much as I needed one.
After a few moments, mother's arms stiffened and before she pulled back I knew our time together had passed. When she looked me over again the glassiness in her eyes was back. "I better get off the floor. Critter doesn't want me to strain myself in my condition. Says it's not good for the baby." She stood up and sat back down on her chair, picking up her knitting once again. The half-dried tear stains on her cheeks were the only evidence of our stolen reunion.
I stood up to leave when Maddy came into the room and gave me a stern nod. "I should go. Thanks for having me, and thanks for telling me the story of how you met your husband.”
She smiled at me sweetly. "That’s no bother at all. I love telling that story. Half the people in this town are tired of it already. Thanks for coming to visit. Make sure to come by again," she said. "Maybe Sunday? On Sundays, I make my famous peach pie. It's Critter's favorite."
I wiped my wet face with the heel of my hand. "I'd like that very much, if you're sure it's alright wi
th you."
"Of course. I'd love that. See you Sunday," she said cheerily. "And don't worry about that adorable little boy of yours. Finn is welcome to come take sunflowers whenever he would like. We’ve got plenty."
Finn.
I gave her a small farewell wave then waited until I was down the hall almost to the front door before I whispered. "Bye, Mom." I didn't know how I'd feel seeing her that way, but as I watched her slip back into a place where I never existed I never expected for it to feel as if she had died all over again.
I ran into Finn's arms the second I was back on the porch. I buried my face into the soft cotton of his t-shirt and didn't pull away until I heard Critter's voice.
"Sawyer?"
I turned around to face Critter who stood from his rocking chair with a knowing look etched in the lines of his face.
The face of my father.
We stood there, staring at one another for what felt like an eternity.
"Critter?" I asked, as if I were seeing him for the first time.
He rocked forward slightly on the balls of his feet, he folded his hands behind his back. For such a tall strong man my heart lurched at how vulnerable he appeared. "We heard you in there with her," Finn said from behind me.
Critter nodded. "You did good, kid. But if you don't mind, I'd...why is this so fucking hard," he grumbled. He took a deep breath. "I'd like for you to call me, Dad." his voice cracked on the last word.
My heart burst open, unleashing a powerful flood of emotions along with uncontrollable tears. I fell to my knees. Before I knew it, Critter had closed the distance between us and lifted me up off my knees, pulling me into his strong arms against his chest. He smelled like cigar smoke and cologne. That's what my dad smelled like and I'd remember it forever.
I was sobbing so hard it prevented me from speaking, but Critter watched me as I looked up and mouthed the words, "Hi, Dad."
He lifted me up, swaying me back and forth as my feet dangled off the porch. "Hey, kid." My tears soaked through his shirt as we squeezed each other tightly and he peppered kisses on the top of my head. "Welcome home, kiddo." He said on a choked sob. "Finally. Welcome fucking home."