And so, my oldest brother went back into the convenience store and got two spoons, and then we—two adult men—sat silently in the cab of my truck and ate his pregnant wife’s peanut butter ice cream. When the carton was half empty, he asked, “Do you love her?”
“I think so, but it’s complicated.”
He chuckled, digging his spoon back into the carton. “Kid, it’s always complicated.”
Trying not to hold my breath, I said, “Flynn’s mine. He’s my son, Bill.”
Bill shook his head at me. “Of course he is. That boy looks just like mama, Cody. Spittin’ image.”
I wasn’t shocked that he knew. I wasn’t shocked that I didn’t know. I just felt sad.
I put my face in my hands. “I can’t remember her face. I can hardly remember her at all.”
With that, my big brother said, “Fuck,” and then he pulled me across the cab and hugged me like I was a little boy, and I sobbed. I couldn’t remember the last time I cried. Maybe when our mother died.
When I was done blubbering and we were back to being two adult men eating ice cream, Bill said, “I like James. She’s smart and she’s fun. I like her for you.”
“I’m so angry at her.”
Bill turned to me, and with his voice steady as a rock, he said, “Don’t make my mistakes, Cody. Don’t let your anger fuck up your life. That woman loves you. Let her. She can’t take it back but she can be better moving forward. Forgive her.”
In his words, I heard our father telling me the same thing earlier. He must have also realized that Flynn was my son.
“Did everyone but me know Flynn was mine?” I asked.
Bill shrugged. “I don’t know. We didn’t have a powwow about it or anything like that.”
He was a terrible liar. They all knew. And they didn’t tell me either.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, genuinely curious but also a little pissed.
“Because I knew she would.”
It was such a simple answer. But I heard everything he was saying in it. He was saying she was good, like Maggie had. He was saying she was upstanding and worth honoring. He was saying that my relationship with her was not something he’d meddle in because it mattered to me. He was saying I loved her and I should be with her, even if it was complicated and even if I was angry. I should figure it out because it mattered. James mattered.
“I should go back,” I said.
“You should.”
“Tell Kat I’m sorry about the ice cream and the delay.”
“Ohhh.” He chuckled as he opened the truck door. “You know you are never going to hear the end of that. In fact, if I were you, I’d show up with pie soon.”
“Gotcha.” I smiled.
Bill paused and turned once he was out the door. “Cody, our mama loved you and you know it. That song you hum to the horses. She used to sing that for you all the time. And she would want you to be with James and Flynn. She would love them. We will all love them.”
I swallowed down the emotion he brought to the surface again and smiled at my brother. I was lucky to have him.
He tapped the roof of the truck and right before he shut the door, he said, “Alright, now go on and get your girl.”
When the door shut, I didn’t waste any time. I threw the truck into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot. In the rearview mirror, I could see Bill laughing and giving me a thumbs-up.