White Picket Fences and Apple Trees, Winter Chapter One
So, here begins part two, or Winter, as I've taken to calling it. And uh, guess what I realized today? I'm not really sure you can actually grow apple trees in Wyoming. I was really kind of crushed when I realized that. And then I thought...well, I don't care. It's fiction, and while I'm all for keeping up with reality and such, I've come this far clinging to the idea of Jack and Ennis having apple trees, so damnit, they're having apple trees! Ahem. Sorry. On with the chapter, eh?
The wind was howling, signaling the start of Wyoming winter. Bobby made a face as dust kicked up into his eyes. He loved Christmas. He loved cold weather. But he hated, absolutely hated, the driving wind that chapped any exposed skin.
“Stupid wind.” He muttered.
“You’ve lived here f-f-forever.” Junior couldn’t keep her teeth from chattering. “Ain’t you used to it?”
“You used to it?”
“Kinda.”
“Well, I hate it.” They made it to the truck. For the third time this week, smashed eggs covered almost every inch. Bobby swore.
“You’d think he’d run outta eggs.” Junior commented dryly. Bobby just gave her a dirty look because he couldn’t think of anything to say. There was no question who’d done it. Jimmy Kent.
“Guess we’re just lucky he ain’t broken any of my windows or anything.” Bobby said darkly. Jack noted the egg on the car when they got home and pressed his lips into a thin line.
“Third time this week.” He muttered through clenched teeth to Ennis.
“S’pose it wouldn’t be so bad if they hadn’t lost the last game.”
“Probably.”
Junior came in. Ennis and Jack watched Bobby pull the hose over to his truck, cursing when no water came out.
“Pipes’re frozen.” Jack commented.
“Yep. It’ll be a minute.”
Bobby looked down into the hose.
“Oh, Bobby, don’t-”
And then the water broke through the ice.
It was a serious situation. Really, it was. Bobby’s truck had been egged. But good Lord, the three people huddled around the big picture window in the living room could not help but laugh their asses off as Bobby spluttered and cursed and hollered in sheer frustration.
“What, he didn’t see that coming?” Junior gasped, snorting.
“DADDY!” They could hear Bobby’s hollering through the walls of the house, and that set them laughing again.
“Oh, come on now, don’t laugh at him,” Ennis chortled. He guffawed a few more times before going outside to help Bobby. Jack joined him after a few minutes, but Junior preferred the warm house. When the three men came back in, Bobby shivering and red faced with anger, the mood was much more somber.
“I swear to fucking God I am going to kick his goddamn ass into next week if he touches my truck again!” Bobby bellowed.
“Bobby!” Jack said sharply. “Boy, I am getting worried ‘bout all this violence you been getting into lately.”
“They been starting it!”
“Don’t make it right.” Ennis broke in gently, handing Bobby a towel. Bobby gave one last roar of rage before stomping up the stairs to his room.
“Ain’t like him to be so angry all the time,” Jack said, shaking his head.
“Well, he ain’t really had no reason to be, did he?”
“Guess that’s our fault.”
“Darlin…”
Junior could see this was rapidly becoming a moment she was not supposed to see. As Jack went into Ennis’s arms, she eased off to her room, wondering about Bobby. She hadn’t known him long. Maybe Ennis was wrong. Maybe Bobby’d been angry all the time, but now he had a reason to let it all out.
In the kitchen, Jack had his face buried in Ennis’s neck and Ennis had his face buried in Jack’s hair. Jack mumbled something Ennis couldn’t hear.
“Huh?” He grunted. Jack pushed back to look at Ennis.
“We being selfish ‘bout all this?”
“What you mean?”
“Well…we was all worried when Troy found out and told everyone. But things ain’t been so bad for us. The kids gotta go to school and deal with everyone while we hide out here all day.”
Ennis didn’t say anything. He’d never thought of that. Was he hiding out? He considered all the times he should’ve gone to the store and instead had dug something ancient and mostly disgusting out of the freezer. Yep, he was hiding out.
“Well what do you reckon we should do ‘bout it?” Ennis asked, more gruff than he’d meant to be.
“I was just thinking out loud.” Jack said, getting defensive. Ennis sighed and pulled Jack close to him again.
“Don’t know what to do,” he murmured, this time burying his face in the crook of Jack’s neck and shoulder. Jack sighed.
“Me neither. Reckon we’d better get to making dinner.”
“Guess so.”
Neither moved. Bobby came down the stairs, and they pulled apart reluctantly. Bobby had that guilty hangdog look on his face, the kind he used to get when he’d snitch a cookie his daddy had told him not to eat. He didn’t say anything to the other men, just shrugged a little and ran a hand through his hair. It was what passed for an apology in their house. Jack went past him to the kitchen, dropping a hand to his shoulder for a little squeeze, accepting what Bobby couldn’t quite offer.
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Junior sat back in her seat, trying her hardest not to steal a look at Nathan. He’d walked in at the start of class and dropped into the seat next to her. The whole thing puzzled her, to be frank. What did he want? He couldn’t honestly want to date her. She knew he was a friend of Troy’s. That in itself made her distrust him. But he seemed so nice, and she couldn’t help but remember the way he’d stood up for Bobby. Well, sort of. He was a bit of a sports-drone, so his defending Bobby had been a bit selfish.
Junior set to work on her homework, decidedly pushing any thoughts of Nathan out of her head. She wasn’t going to think about his broad shoulders or his short hair or his wide smile or…yeah, okay.
“Troy misses you, y’know.” He may have been a looker ten seconds ago, but now Junior couldn’t help the way her lip curled in distaste.
“’Scuse me?”
“He really does. He just wants to talk to you, if you’d let him.”
“Then why ain’t he talking to me? Ever’time I see him, he runs in the other direction.”
“He’s worried.” Nathan shrugged. “Worried you hate him ‘cause what he said ‘bout your daddy and all the trouble you been having since then.”
“Well it sure don’t make me want to throw my arms ‘round him.” Junior said sourly. She always got extra snappy when her guts were churning with uncertainty. What was going on here? Thinking about Troy sent little tremors through her body.
“You should just give him another chance.” Nathan said, gathering up his books. The bell rang. “He sure does miss you.” Then he was gone.
Junior stayed in her seat, dumbstruck. Her first concrete feeling was disappointment. Nathan didn’t want to date her. He was doing Troy some sort of favor. She had no second concrete feeling. She couldn’t hold on to her spinning thoughts.
Troy wanted her back? Did she want Troy back? Did she still like Troy? Why was she shaking? What would her father and Jack say? Oh, they would not like this.
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“How you doing in there?” Ennis asked Mary Ellen, way he did every day. She looked at him blankly for a minute, the look Ennis had gotten so used to-she may have been standing in front of him, but she surely wasn’t there with him.
“I’m okay.” She said. She said it so quiet Ennis couldn’t even really hear her, just saw her lips make the shapes and her breath hiss out in the right spots. He nodded, trying not to show how taken aback he was. It was progress.
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Bobby was sprawled out across his bed, head hanging off the side and lolling around, hoping it would make some thoughts clear. So far it wasn’t really working. He’d always been a pretty happy-go-lucky kid; fun, easygoing, able to let things roll off his back.
Not anymore. Bobby was getting more defensive everyday. He walked with his shoulders hunched, looking every which way to determine if anyone was looking at him funny. He took any opportunity he could find to hit somebody. What was going on?
He sighed, blowing the breath up to ruffle his hair off his forehead. He’d never been one to examine his inner feelings or any of the shit. If he was sad, he was sad. He didn’t question his emotions.
But he had this anger burning in him. Constantly. It was like one of those brush fires they’d had a couple years ago, the kind that kept burning all along the dry prairie grass and couldn’t nothing put it out, no matter how much grass it ate up.
That was Bobby. Nothing could stop this giant anger; no matter how many times he broke Jimmy Kent’s nose or how many other guys he fought, it was still there in the pit of his stomach. He was sick of it, but even being sick of it fanned the flames. He figured if he couldn’t fight it out of himself, maybe he could think it out.
So why was he so mad? What had changed to make him this way? He snorted. What had changed? Everything had changed. He couldn’t walk two steps into town without seeing people’s eyes go wide and hear the rustle of whispers over his shoulder. At school, all he saw all day long were sneers. And at home, his daddy and Ennis were so beaten down, so tired of it all. For the first time in his life, Bobby was beginning to really wish his family were normal, ‘stead of all fucked up.
He stopped himself at that thought. Normal? What was so fucked up about them? He had two parents who made sure he did his homework and stayed out of trouble. They ate dinner together and they went to church on Christmas. He always had both of them rooting for him in the stands while he was playing ball. Hell, their family was more normal than most anyone else’s in town. His daddy wasn’t a drunk, way Jimmy Kent’s daddy was. Sam Jacobson’s mama had a gambling problem and David Fuller’s daddy had shot his mama.
Who was to say that he’d be more normal with a mama instead of an Ennis? His mama hadn’t fought real hard to keep him; how did he know that he wouldn’t have been a burden on her all these years, if he’d had her? Living with Junior had shown him a bit of what it would’ve been like to have a mother around. More likely than not, it would’ve meant no muddy dogs in the house, no putting his feet up on the coffee table when he watched TV, no burping contests with his daddy and Ennis.
No thank you, Bobby decided. He liked his fucked up family just fine.
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Jack looked at himself in the mirror, tipping his chin around, examining his face from different angles. Ennis watched him out of the corner of his eye while he brushed his teeth.
“Thinking I might grow a moustache.” Jack announced as Ennis was swishing. Ennis spat and gave Jack his best what the hell, boy? look.
“Why?” He asked, sounding like Jack had just suggested they grow corn under their bed. Jack shrugged.
“Doncha think I’d look good with a moustache?”
“No.” Ennis said truthfully. A moustache would hide that mole on his lip; the one that Ennis loved to feel under his thumb while he kissed Jack. Ennis blushed at his own thoughts.
“You don’t?” Jack sounded injured.
“Think you’d look like you got yourself a caterpillar dangling under your nose.” Ennis shrugged. “Never saw no point in moustaches, myself. When you get a runny nose, don’t snot get all dried up in there?”
“That’s disgusting, Ennis.”
“Well, there ya go.”
“Might do it anyway.” Jack said defiantly.
“Your face. You want to grow yourself a snot-catcher, you go right ahead.”
Jack pouted a little. He’d been hoping for some kind of reaction from Ennis, something more than a very sickening mental image of snot gathering in his facial hair. Well, what were you hoping for, Twist? Think he’d tell you to do it so he could feel a man’s moustache against his face when he kisses you?
“Ennis?” Jack crawled under the covers, glad they had a thick quilt to combat the chill.
“Hmm?” Ennis was concentrating on pulling his belt out of the loops.
“Moustache would tickle ya when I’m down there.”
Ennis froze, fingers hovering over his belt. His eyes were wide, and Jack could practically see the pictures in Ennis’s mind now. He hid a grin.
“Ungh…”
“What was that, Ennis?”
Ennis cleared his throat. He muttered some things under his breath that Jack couldn’t make out. His face was bright red, freckles standing out against his flush. Jack chuckled a little.
“Coming to bed?” He asked innocently.
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The phone rang while they were eating dinner the next night. Ennis was closest to the phone; didn’t even have to get up. He set down his fork and stretched for the phone.
“H’lo.” He frowned. “Who’s this?” He snapped. “Tough talk for a man hiding behind a phone line. That’s right, don’t call back here, you son of a bitch.” He slammed the phone down, breathing hard, jaw clenched. Jack, Bobby, and Junior sat frozen, watching him.
“Fucker.” He muttered under his breath, then winced and shot a regretful look at Bobby and Junior. His eyes cut to Jack before focusing back on his food.
“Ennis.” Jack said. “Problem?”
“Nah.”
“Ennis.”
Ennis shot him a look, one that said I’ll tell you later, not in front of the kids. Jack’s lips tightened but he nodded. No one ate much after that, and no one talked. The only sounds were the scrapes of forks against plates and Ennis’s uncomfortable coughs.
“What was that?” Jack murmured as he and Ennis did the dishes. Bobby and Junior were at the table, doing homework.
“Just some bastard spouting out threats.”
“What’d he say?”
“Oh, just telling us queers to go suck each other’s dicks.”
Jack shrugged. “Shoulda thanked him for the idea.”
“Jack. It ain’t a joke.”
“Who said I was joking? I got myself some nice stubble growing in and I know you’re dying to experiment.”
“Jack.” Ennis’s voice was sharp. “What if one of the kids had answered, huh? They getting that kind of shit at school?”
“Why don’t you ask them?”
Ennis sighed, setting his attention to drying the plate he was holding. How could he just come out and ask a question like that? Oh, by the way, kids at school hassle you about your faggot daddies? Yeah right.
“We gonna be getting lots of those calls, you reckon?” Jack asked quietly.
“Prob’ly.”
“Then the kids’re bound to answer ‘em sometime. Might as well let ‘em know what’s coming.”
“Maybe they just don’t answer the phone no more.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Ennis, they’re teenagers. They think the phone’s for them ever’time it rings. You’ll have to fight ‘em off to get to it first. We don’t got time to keep guard on the phone.”
“Well then maybe we’ll just unplug it.”
“Maybe you need to quit being a stubborn jackass.” Jack said it with no venom. He rinsed off his hands and dried them on the towel Ennis was holding. Ennis watched him go to the kitchen and tell the kids about the call, calmly explaining to them that they didn’t need to be worried. When had Jack learned to be so good at that? His father had been horrible. They’d raised Bobby together, neither of them really knowing what they were doing. So why was Jack such a perfect daddy while Ennis couldn’t hardly look his own daughter in the face?
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The temperature dropped steadily every day. Ennis put thick blankets over the horses and some of the more vulnerable cows, even. The animals had to come in at night and a couple got all cut up on the layer of ice that covered the ground. Getting water out of the frozen pipes was a chore full of curses, since it meant getting out of bed earlier to run the water longer.
Junior wasn’t used to such cold. Sure, she’d lived in Wyoming through the harsh winter, but always in town, where her apartment had heat and someone else was in charge of making sure her water stayed warm. Out here, in the middle of the lonesome prairie, the winter just seemed colder.
“Noticed some of the hands…well, some of the hands don’t seem too happy to be here.” Jack told Ennis. Ennis sighed.
“Reckon we should…have a talk with ‘em? Tell ‘em if they got a problem with us, they can just leave?”
Jack gave Ennis an appraising look. “What’d you do with Ennis del Mar?” He joked. Ennis just rolled his eyes. That afternoon, they gathered the hands. Ennis just coughed nervously, so Jack took care of the talking.
“So, we reckon you’ve all heard the talk in town. ‘Bout us.” He paused. No one said anything, but a couple of the hands were giving him dark looks. That would be a yes. “We just wanted to say that…well if you got a problem with us, you go ahead and get on out of here. We don’t want you if you don’t want to be here working for us.”
Jack was shaking a little. He hadn’t ever confronted anyone like that. Had he? He didn’t know. He couldn’t think. He licked his lips. Ennis saw him struggling and wanted to reach out a hand and comfort him. But Ennis himself was shaking, too, and there was no way he was going to put an arm around Jack in front of these guys.
Four of the hands left. One spat at Jack’s feet and Ennis made a move toward him before Jack stopped him. They were left with just two men-one, David, was barely nineteen years old. The other was their foreman, Joel; older than both Jack and Ennis, he’d been with them the longest, almost as long as they’d lived there. The four of them stood looking at each other for a minute.
“So, uh.” Ennis started. “We really ‘preciate you fellahs sticking around.”
David shrugged. “Well, don’t reckon I could find work anywhere else where I don’t gotta work weekends or late into the nights.” He shrugged again. “Don’t really care ‘bout any of...that.” He went back into the barn to finish up his chores. Jack was suddenly grateful for Ennis’s stinginess with his money. He, Ennis, and Bobby always took care of the evening chores themselves and they rarely had the hands help on Saturdays or Sundays. It was less about being good bosses and more about Ennis’s perfectionism.
“Why pay someone else to do a job I can do better myself?” He’d said. And now it was helping them out, so he couldn’t help but smile. They looked at Joel, who shrugged almost sheepishly.
“Well, boys, I gotta say I figured you two out years ago.”
“Huh?” Ennis sounded panicked, though it obviously didn’t matter now.
“Sure. Caught you kissing in the barn one night couple years ago.” He blushed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
Ennis was scarlet, and Jack was laughing. Joel had looked pretty worried, but now he split into a tentative smile.
“Bothered me a little, at first.” He admitted. “But I got over it. You boys run a good spread, and I ain’t gonna be able to find much work anywhere else. Getting too old. ‘Sides, I been here too long to just up and leave.”
Ennis, still fighting his blush, clapped a quick hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Sure means a lot, Joel.”
“It ain’t nothing.” He smiled again and then headed to the barn. Jack and Ennis looked at each other.
“Well.” Ennis said.
“Yep.”
“I’m a might embarrassed ‘bout Joel seeing us…”
“Know you are. Can see it all over your face.” Jack chuckled.
“Thought we was so careful all them years. Wonder how many other people already know?”
“Dunno. Guess we weren’t so careful as we thought, huh?”
“Guess not.” Ennis sounded thoughtful. “Jack?”
“Hm?”
“You think…you think for sure other people known all along?”
“Prob’ly, Ennis. Willing to bet.”
“And nothing happened ‘fore now.” His voice was quiet. Jack put his arms around him.
“Nothing happened. Maybe the world ain’t so bad as you always thought it was, huh?”
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Louisa got up one Tuesday morning, when November was still just starting up, some trees still holding on to their leaves, early in the morning to make breakfast for her siblings. She was still half-asleep, and bleary-eyed, so she thought surely she was dreaming when she saw Mary Ellen’s thin back to her.
“Mom?” She asked cautiously. Mary Ellen turned, ratty old bathrobe tied around her gaunt waist, hair still limp and eyes listless as ever. But she was up, and she had a pan on the stove, and she looked like she was making pancakes.
“Good morning.” She said quietly.
“Are you making breakfast?” Louisa knew she sounded bewildered and didn’t even care.
“Yes.” Mary Ellen answered cautiously. And Louisa recognized something in her eyes, something she’d seen on the faces of countless little children-that need to be praised, to be congratulated on a job well done, to be called on something right. And so even though Mary Ellen was her mother, and Louisa was just a teenager, couldn’t even drive yet, Louisa smiled softly at the woman in front of her and said,
“It smells wonderful, Mom.”
And Mary Ellen smiled a childlike little grin, shy and pleased at the praise, before ducking her head and turning back to the stove. Louisa went to Kurt’s room, her heart full of…whatever, and poked her big brother.
“Hm?” He jerked up.
“Mom’s making breakfast.” She whispered.
“What?” His eyes weren’t focusing yet and his hair was sticking up in about eight different places.
“Mom.” She hissed. “Mom is in the kitchen, awake. And making breakfast.”
“Our mom?” He asked stupidly.
“No, the president’s mom.” Louisa rolled her eyes. Honestly. “Yes, our mom!”
“Oh.” Kurt stared for a moment more, then rolled over and huddled under his blankets again. Louisa threw her hands in the air in exasperation before heading to her bathroom to shower. Boys.
The wind was howling, signaling the start of Wyoming winter. Bobby made a face as dust kicked up into his eyes. He loved Christmas. He loved cold weather. But he hated, absolutely hated, the driving wind that chapped any exposed skin.
“Stupid wind.” He muttered.
“You’ve lived here f-f-forever.” Junior couldn’t keep her teeth from chattering. “Ain’t you used to it?”
“You used to it?”
“Kinda.”
“Well, I hate it.” They made it to the truck. For the third time this week, smashed eggs covered almost every inch. Bobby swore.
“You’d think he’d run outta eggs.” Junior commented dryly. Bobby just gave her a dirty look because he couldn’t think of anything to say. There was no question who’d done it. Jimmy Kent.
“Guess we’re just lucky he ain’t broken any of my windows or anything.” Bobby said darkly. Jack noted the egg on the car when they got home and pressed his lips into a thin line.
“Third time this week.” He muttered through clenched teeth to Ennis.
“S’pose it wouldn’t be so bad if they hadn’t lost the last game.”
“Probably.”
Junior came in. Ennis and Jack watched Bobby pull the hose over to his truck, cursing when no water came out.
“Pipes’re frozen.” Jack commented.
“Yep. It’ll be a minute.”
Bobby looked down into the hose.
“Oh, Bobby, don’t-”
And then the water broke through the ice.
It was a serious situation. Really, it was. Bobby’s truck had been egged. But good Lord, the three people huddled around the big picture window in the living room could not help but laugh their asses off as Bobby spluttered and cursed and hollered in sheer frustration.
“What, he didn’t see that coming?” Junior gasped, snorting.
“DADDY!” They could hear Bobby’s hollering through the walls of the house, and that set them laughing again.
“Oh, come on now, don’t laugh at him,” Ennis chortled. He guffawed a few more times before going outside to help Bobby. Jack joined him after a few minutes, but Junior preferred the warm house. When the three men came back in, Bobby shivering and red faced with anger, the mood was much more somber.
“I swear to fucking God I am going to kick his goddamn ass into next week if he touches my truck again!” Bobby bellowed.
“Bobby!” Jack said sharply. “Boy, I am getting worried ‘bout all this violence you been getting into lately.”
“They been starting it!”
“Don’t make it right.” Ennis broke in gently, handing Bobby a towel. Bobby gave one last roar of rage before stomping up the stairs to his room.
“Ain’t like him to be so angry all the time,” Jack said, shaking his head.
“Well, he ain’t really had no reason to be, did he?”
“Guess that’s our fault.”
“Darlin…”
Junior could see this was rapidly becoming a moment she was not supposed to see. As Jack went into Ennis’s arms, she eased off to her room, wondering about Bobby. She hadn’t known him long. Maybe Ennis was wrong. Maybe Bobby’d been angry all the time, but now he had a reason to let it all out.
In the kitchen, Jack had his face buried in Ennis’s neck and Ennis had his face buried in Jack’s hair. Jack mumbled something Ennis couldn’t hear.
“Huh?” He grunted. Jack pushed back to look at Ennis.
“We being selfish ‘bout all this?”
“What you mean?”
“Well…we was all worried when Troy found out and told everyone. But things ain’t been so bad for us. The kids gotta go to school and deal with everyone while we hide out here all day.”
Ennis didn’t say anything. He’d never thought of that. Was he hiding out? He considered all the times he should’ve gone to the store and instead had dug something ancient and mostly disgusting out of the freezer. Yep, he was hiding out.
“Well what do you reckon we should do ‘bout it?” Ennis asked, more gruff than he’d meant to be.
“I was just thinking out loud.” Jack said, getting defensive. Ennis sighed and pulled Jack close to him again.
“Don’t know what to do,” he murmured, this time burying his face in the crook of Jack’s neck and shoulder. Jack sighed.
“Me neither. Reckon we’d better get to making dinner.”
“Guess so.”
Neither moved. Bobby came down the stairs, and they pulled apart reluctantly. Bobby had that guilty hangdog look on his face, the kind he used to get when he’d snitch a cookie his daddy had told him not to eat. He didn’t say anything to the other men, just shrugged a little and ran a hand through his hair. It was what passed for an apology in their house. Jack went past him to the kitchen, dropping a hand to his shoulder for a little squeeze, accepting what Bobby couldn’t quite offer.
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Junior sat back in her seat, trying her hardest not to steal a look at Nathan. He’d walked in at the start of class and dropped into the seat next to her. The whole thing puzzled her, to be frank. What did he want? He couldn’t honestly want to date her. She knew he was a friend of Troy’s. That in itself made her distrust him. But he seemed so nice, and she couldn’t help but remember the way he’d stood up for Bobby. Well, sort of. He was a bit of a sports-drone, so his defending Bobby had been a bit selfish.
Junior set to work on her homework, decidedly pushing any thoughts of Nathan out of her head. She wasn’t going to think about his broad shoulders or his short hair or his wide smile or…yeah, okay.
“Troy misses you, y’know.” He may have been a looker ten seconds ago, but now Junior couldn’t help the way her lip curled in distaste.
“’Scuse me?”
“He really does. He just wants to talk to you, if you’d let him.”
“Then why ain’t he talking to me? Ever’time I see him, he runs in the other direction.”
“He’s worried.” Nathan shrugged. “Worried you hate him ‘cause what he said ‘bout your daddy and all the trouble you been having since then.”
“Well it sure don’t make me want to throw my arms ‘round him.” Junior said sourly. She always got extra snappy when her guts were churning with uncertainty. What was going on here? Thinking about Troy sent little tremors through her body.
“You should just give him another chance.” Nathan said, gathering up his books. The bell rang. “He sure does miss you.” Then he was gone.
Junior stayed in her seat, dumbstruck. Her first concrete feeling was disappointment. Nathan didn’t want to date her. He was doing Troy some sort of favor. She had no second concrete feeling. She couldn’t hold on to her spinning thoughts.
Troy wanted her back? Did she want Troy back? Did she still like Troy? Why was she shaking? What would her father and Jack say? Oh, they would not like this.
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“How you doing in there?” Ennis asked Mary Ellen, way he did every day. She looked at him blankly for a minute, the look Ennis had gotten so used to-she may have been standing in front of him, but she surely wasn’t there with him.
“I’m okay.” She said. She said it so quiet Ennis couldn’t even really hear her, just saw her lips make the shapes and her breath hiss out in the right spots. He nodded, trying not to show how taken aback he was. It was progress.
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Bobby was sprawled out across his bed, head hanging off the side and lolling around, hoping it would make some thoughts clear. So far it wasn’t really working. He’d always been a pretty happy-go-lucky kid; fun, easygoing, able to let things roll off his back.
Not anymore. Bobby was getting more defensive everyday. He walked with his shoulders hunched, looking every which way to determine if anyone was looking at him funny. He took any opportunity he could find to hit somebody. What was going on?
He sighed, blowing the breath up to ruffle his hair off his forehead. He’d never been one to examine his inner feelings or any of the shit. If he was sad, he was sad. He didn’t question his emotions.
But he had this anger burning in him. Constantly. It was like one of those brush fires they’d had a couple years ago, the kind that kept burning all along the dry prairie grass and couldn’t nothing put it out, no matter how much grass it ate up.
That was Bobby. Nothing could stop this giant anger; no matter how many times he broke Jimmy Kent’s nose or how many other guys he fought, it was still there in the pit of his stomach. He was sick of it, but even being sick of it fanned the flames. He figured if he couldn’t fight it out of himself, maybe he could think it out.
So why was he so mad? What had changed to make him this way? He snorted. What had changed? Everything had changed. He couldn’t walk two steps into town without seeing people’s eyes go wide and hear the rustle of whispers over his shoulder. At school, all he saw all day long were sneers. And at home, his daddy and Ennis were so beaten down, so tired of it all. For the first time in his life, Bobby was beginning to really wish his family were normal, ‘stead of all fucked up.
He stopped himself at that thought. Normal? What was so fucked up about them? He had two parents who made sure he did his homework and stayed out of trouble. They ate dinner together and they went to church on Christmas. He always had both of them rooting for him in the stands while he was playing ball. Hell, their family was more normal than most anyone else’s in town. His daddy wasn’t a drunk, way Jimmy Kent’s daddy was. Sam Jacobson’s mama had a gambling problem and David Fuller’s daddy had shot his mama.
Who was to say that he’d be more normal with a mama instead of an Ennis? His mama hadn’t fought real hard to keep him; how did he know that he wouldn’t have been a burden on her all these years, if he’d had her? Living with Junior had shown him a bit of what it would’ve been like to have a mother around. More likely than not, it would’ve meant no muddy dogs in the house, no putting his feet up on the coffee table when he watched TV, no burping contests with his daddy and Ennis.
No thank you, Bobby decided. He liked his fucked up family just fine.
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Jack looked at himself in the mirror, tipping his chin around, examining his face from different angles. Ennis watched him out of the corner of his eye while he brushed his teeth.
“Thinking I might grow a moustache.” Jack announced as Ennis was swishing. Ennis spat and gave Jack his best what the hell, boy? look.
“Why?” He asked, sounding like Jack had just suggested they grow corn under their bed. Jack shrugged.
“Doncha think I’d look good with a moustache?”
“No.” Ennis said truthfully. A moustache would hide that mole on his lip; the one that Ennis loved to feel under his thumb while he kissed Jack. Ennis blushed at his own thoughts.
“You don’t?” Jack sounded injured.
“Think you’d look like you got yourself a caterpillar dangling under your nose.” Ennis shrugged. “Never saw no point in moustaches, myself. When you get a runny nose, don’t snot get all dried up in there?”
“That’s disgusting, Ennis.”
“Well, there ya go.”
“Might do it anyway.” Jack said defiantly.
“Your face. You want to grow yourself a snot-catcher, you go right ahead.”
Jack pouted a little. He’d been hoping for some kind of reaction from Ennis, something more than a very sickening mental image of snot gathering in his facial hair. Well, what were you hoping for, Twist? Think he’d tell you to do it so he could feel a man’s moustache against his face when he kisses you?
“Ennis?” Jack crawled under the covers, glad they had a thick quilt to combat the chill.
“Hmm?” Ennis was concentrating on pulling his belt out of the loops.
“Moustache would tickle ya when I’m down there.”
Ennis froze, fingers hovering over his belt. His eyes were wide, and Jack could practically see the pictures in Ennis’s mind now. He hid a grin.
“Ungh…”
“What was that, Ennis?”
Ennis cleared his throat. He muttered some things under his breath that Jack couldn’t make out. His face was bright red, freckles standing out against his flush. Jack chuckled a little.
“Coming to bed?” He asked innocently.
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The phone rang while they were eating dinner the next night. Ennis was closest to the phone; didn’t even have to get up. He set down his fork and stretched for the phone.
“H’lo.” He frowned. “Who’s this?” He snapped. “Tough talk for a man hiding behind a phone line. That’s right, don’t call back here, you son of a bitch.” He slammed the phone down, breathing hard, jaw clenched. Jack, Bobby, and Junior sat frozen, watching him.
“Fucker.” He muttered under his breath, then winced and shot a regretful look at Bobby and Junior. His eyes cut to Jack before focusing back on his food.
“Ennis.” Jack said. “Problem?”
“Nah.”
“Ennis.”
Ennis shot him a look, one that said I’ll tell you later, not in front of the kids. Jack’s lips tightened but he nodded. No one ate much after that, and no one talked. The only sounds were the scrapes of forks against plates and Ennis’s uncomfortable coughs.
“What was that?” Jack murmured as he and Ennis did the dishes. Bobby and Junior were at the table, doing homework.
“Just some bastard spouting out threats.”
“What’d he say?”
“Oh, just telling us queers to go suck each other’s dicks.”
Jack shrugged. “Shoulda thanked him for the idea.”
“Jack. It ain’t a joke.”
“Who said I was joking? I got myself some nice stubble growing in and I know you’re dying to experiment.”
“Jack.” Ennis’s voice was sharp. “What if one of the kids had answered, huh? They getting that kind of shit at school?”
“Why don’t you ask them?”
Ennis sighed, setting his attention to drying the plate he was holding. How could he just come out and ask a question like that? Oh, by the way, kids at school hassle you about your faggot daddies? Yeah right.
“We gonna be getting lots of those calls, you reckon?” Jack asked quietly.
“Prob’ly.”
“Then the kids’re bound to answer ‘em sometime. Might as well let ‘em know what’s coming.”
“Maybe they just don’t answer the phone no more.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Ennis, they’re teenagers. They think the phone’s for them ever’time it rings. You’ll have to fight ‘em off to get to it first. We don’t got time to keep guard on the phone.”
“Well then maybe we’ll just unplug it.”
“Maybe you need to quit being a stubborn jackass.” Jack said it with no venom. He rinsed off his hands and dried them on the towel Ennis was holding. Ennis watched him go to the kitchen and tell the kids about the call, calmly explaining to them that they didn’t need to be worried. When had Jack learned to be so good at that? His father had been horrible. They’d raised Bobby together, neither of them really knowing what they were doing. So why was Jack such a perfect daddy while Ennis couldn’t hardly look his own daughter in the face?
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The temperature dropped steadily every day. Ennis put thick blankets over the horses and some of the more vulnerable cows, even. The animals had to come in at night and a couple got all cut up on the layer of ice that covered the ground. Getting water out of the frozen pipes was a chore full of curses, since it meant getting out of bed earlier to run the water longer.
Junior wasn’t used to such cold. Sure, she’d lived in Wyoming through the harsh winter, but always in town, where her apartment had heat and someone else was in charge of making sure her water stayed warm. Out here, in the middle of the lonesome prairie, the winter just seemed colder.
“Noticed some of the hands…well, some of the hands don’t seem too happy to be here.” Jack told Ennis. Ennis sighed.
“Reckon we should…have a talk with ‘em? Tell ‘em if they got a problem with us, they can just leave?”
Jack gave Ennis an appraising look. “What’d you do with Ennis del Mar?” He joked. Ennis just rolled his eyes. That afternoon, they gathered the hands. Ennis just coughed nervously, so Jack took care of the talking.
“So, we reckon you’ve all heard the talk in town. ‘Bout us.” He paused. No one said anything, but a couple of the hands were giving him dark looks. That would be a yes. “We just wanted to say that…well if you got a problem with us, you go ahead and get on out of here. We don’t want you if you don’t want to be here working for us.”
Jack was shaking a little. He hadn’t ever confronted anyone like that. Had he? He didn’t know. He couldn’t think. He licked his lips. Ennis saw him struggling and wanted to reach out a hand and comfort him. But Ennis himself was shaking, too, and there was no way he was going to put an arm around Jack in front of these guys.
Four of the hands left. One spat at Jack’s feet and Ennis made a move toward him before Jack stopped him. They were left with just two men-one, David, was barely nineteen years old. The other was their foreman, Joel; older than both Jack and Ennis, he’d been with them the longest, almost as long as they’d lived there. The four of them stood looking at each other for a minute.
“So, uh.” Ennis started. “We really ‘preciate you fellahs sticking around.”
David shrugged. “Well, don’t reckon I could find work anywhere else where I don’t gotta work weekends or late into the nights.” He shrugged again. “Don’t really care ‘bout any of...that.” He went back into the barn to finish up his chores. Jack was suddenly grateful for Ennis’s stinginess with his money. He, Ennis, and Bobby always took care of the evening chores themselves and they rarely had the hands help on Saturdays or Sundays. It was less about being good bosses and more about Ennis’s perfectionism.
“Why pay someone else to do a job I can do better myself?” He’d said. And now it was helping them out, so he couldn’t help but smile. They looked at Joel, who shrugged almost sheepishly.
“Well, boys, I gotta say I figured you two out years ago.”
“Huh?” Ennis sounded panicked, though it obviously didn’t matter now.
“Sure. Caught you kissing in the barn one night couple years ago.” He blushed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
Ennis was scarlet, and Jack was laughing. Joel had looked pretty worried, but now he split into a tentative smile.
“Bothered me a little, at first.” He admitted. “But I got over it. You boys run a good spread, and I ain’t gonna be able to find much work anywhere else. Getting too old. ‘Sides, I been here too long to just up and leave.”
Ennis, still fighting his blush, clapped a quick hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Sure means a lot, Joel.”
“It ain’t nothing.” He smiled again and then headed to the barn. Jack and Ennis looked at each other.
“Well.” Ennis said.
“Yep.”
“I’m a might embarrassed ‘bout Joel seeing us…”
“Know you are. Can see it all over your face.” Jack chuckled.
“Thought we was so careful all them years. Wonder how many other people already know?”
“Dunno. Guess we weren’t so careful as we thought, huh?”
“Guess not.” Ennis sounded thoughtful. “Jack?”
“Hm?”
“You think…you think for sure other people known all along?”
“Prob’ly, Ennis. Willing to bet.”
“And nothing happened ‘fore now.” His voice was quiet. Jack put his arms around him.
“Nothing happened. Maybe the world ain’t so bad as you always thought it was, huh?”
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Louisa got up one Tuesday morning, when November was still just starting up, some trees still holding on to their leaves, early in the morning to make breakfast for her siblings. She was still half-asleep, and bleary-eyed, so she thought surely she was dreaming when she saw Mary Ellen’s thin back to her.
“Mom?” She asked cautiously. Mary Ellen turned, ratty old bathrobe tied around her gaunt waist, hair still limp and eyes listless as ever. But she was up, and she had a pan on the stove, and she looked like she was making pancakes.
“Good morning.” She said quietly.
“Are you making breakfast?” Louisa knew she sounded bewildered and didn’t even care.
“Yes.” Mary Ellen answered cautiously. And Louisa recognized something in her eyes, something she’d seen on the faces of countless little children-that need to be praised, to be congratulated on a job well done, to be called on something right. And so even though Mary Ellen was her mother, and Louisa was just a teenager, couldn’t even drive yet, Louisa smiled softly at the woman in front of her and said,
“It smells wonderful, Mom.”
And Mary Ellen smiled a childlike little grin, shy and pleased at the praise, before ducking her head and turning back to the stove. Louisa went to Kurt’s room, her heart full of…whatever, and poked her big brother.
“Hm?” He jerked up.
“Mom’s making breakfast.” She whispered.
“What?” His eyes weren’t focusing yet and his hair was sticking up in about eight different places.
“Mom.” She hissed. “Mom is in the kitchen, awake. And making breakfast.”
“Our mom?” He asked stupidly.
“No, the president’s mom.” Louisa rolled her eyes. Honestly. “Yes, our mom!”
“Oh.” Kurt stared for a moment more, then rolled over and huddled under his blankets again. Louisa threw her hands in the air in exasperation before heading to her bathroom to shower. Boys.