232. Is there a situation where it's appropriate to be unkind?
[Filtered to Anrai and the rest of the MacEibhirs]
Anrai asked me why it is that my father is suddenly refusin’ to not only give me away in a few week’s time but is also sayin’ he ain’t even comin’ to the weddin’. I just want it to be perfectly clear that it don’t have anythin’ to do with Anrai-nothin’ to do with his family at all. Hell, he gave Anrai his permission and blessin’ when the damned fool asked if he could marry me back in June.
No, I’m afraid this is all on me and Daddy and some bullshit mess that happened just before I got married the first time. I should probably be a bit embarrassed to be admittin’ any of this but I ain’t. Besides, everyone that lives within spittin’ distance of me heard all about it back then and I can guarantee the old busy bodies will be flappin’ about it again when word gets out that Daddy’s bein’ stubborn and cussed.
I know when I talk about my big brother it’s always about the fun we had, the goofy shit and the crazy junk we used to do. I adored him more than life itself and dear God, do I miss him, and I make no bones about that. My big brother is easily one of the best people I have ever known and I can’t help but think the world’s a worse place without him. I know my world is. Somethin’ I don’t usually mention (cause frankly, I don’t give a shit about it and it ain’t no one else’s business anyhow) is that Wes was gay and that’s somethin’ our daddy just couldn’t, wouldn’t and won’t abide by.
I’m sure I probably don’t have to give you a whole lot of detail over just what this damned stupid mess was about, now do I? Y’all are all reasonably intelligent people and it ain’t that hard to figure out. I’m tellin’ you anyhow cause Lord only knows what you’ll hear from some of the real idiots ‘round these parts.
See, Wes pretty much kept things to himself when we were growin’ up. He was older than me by a handful of years so by the time he moved out on his own and was fixin’ to make Flint Creek what it is, I was just getting’ ready to graduate high school-and marry Jackson. Now, Jack bein’ his best friend knew and I knew and well that meant Margene and (God I hate even sayin’ his name any more) Colt knew, but Wes refused to tell Mama and Daddy anythin’ while I was still livin’ at home. He knew how Daddy’d react, I guess, and he didn’t want to put me in the middle of that.
It ain’t like our parents were entirely in the dark but as long as no one actually said anythin’, Mama could keep on pretendin’ it weren’t so and Daddy, well…who the hell knows what he was thinkin’ all that time. Denial, maybe. That’s just how it went in our house for the last couple of years I was in high school. Wes insistin’ on not makin’ waves and me thinkin’ he was being a bit of a coward for it. He always was the one goin’ around bein’ the peace maker while I’m the loudmouth who will get in your face and tell you about yourself. I kept him damned busy, to be honest.
(I don’t know how any of y’all feel hearin’ me talk about my first husband, Anrai, sugar…I know you and I have been round and round on the subject so I ain’t worried that I’m hurtin’ your feelin’s here. I know you and Jack doin’ your best to make nice with each other on my behalf and I love you both all the more for it. As for the rest of y’all, Jackson Anderson might be my ex-husband but he is also one of my best friends. I’ve known him since I was five years old and I don’t mean to ever stop knowin’ him. And it’s damned hard to talk about Wes and not talk about Jack too. I guess I’m just askin’ y’all to bear with me a minute here, is all.)
Wes was set to be Jack’s best man, that ain’t no surprise, they were closer than close, always were. And Daddy was goin’ to give me away. This was all fine and dandy except well, Wes was feelin’ like a kicked dog and then some because he felt like he couldn’t bring who he wanted to bring to the weddin’ with him. Jack and I both told him to bring whoever he wanted and we meant that. Hell, Jack woulda kicked the ass of anyone who tried to start shit over it. I told my brother to stop worrin’ about what the hell anyone else thought and just do what would make him happy. Course this meant Wes felt he needed to tell Mama and Daddy beforehand and not spring it on them in public like that.
There are some things that happen and you can remember every detail of it: what you were doin’, how you were doin’ it, what the weather was like and so on…that afternoon is one of them events for me. Jack and I were in my Mama’s kitchen getting’ something to drink and maybe he was kissin’ on me since everyone else was outside and not around to see. It was hot as hell too, and we’d been carryin’ my stuff from my room upstairs and puttin’ it in the back of his truck. Clothes, tack, all the damned weddin’ presents people had been leavin’ at the house and were about to fall on my head if I navigated around my room the wrong way. I guess the mood was already a bit tense between the heat, the fact that I was movin’ out and in a couple of weeks it would be just Mama and Daddy in that big ol’ farm house and Wes had told Daddy they needed to talk.
I ain’t sure exactly what happened to start it, but we heard Mama scream out in the yard and I lit out of the house so fast and Jack right behind me. I hit the gravel drive just in time to see Daddy belt Wes across the chin and my brother’s head snap back. Wes, God bless him, didn’t hit back. He wouldn’t take a swing at our father for nothin’, only that pissed Daddy off more cause he yelled at him to ‘be a man’ and defend himself. Wes just stood there and took it as Daddy hit him again. Jack made a move to intervene but…I don’t know, he stepped in front of me and in those few seconds Wes lost his footin’ and was on the ground. Daddy just kept wailin’ on him, Mama kept screamin’ and Jack was tryin’ to pull Daddy off Wes who still refused to defend himself.
It ain’t no secret where I get my hot headed temper from. It’s Daddy, through and through. I get just as angry, just as damned fast and I know it. Watchin’ what was goin’ on and knowin’ why it was goin’ on…I snapped. I went back in the house and I grabbed my father’s shot gun (back then, the damned thing was always loaded…hell, you’d probably find half the guns in the county are still put up loaded these days) and when I came back outside I fired the first shell into the air. I did it to get their attention. It worked. Jack, either bein’ braver or stupider than you’d think, let go of Daddy and tried to get me to calm down.
He might have had some luck there if Wes hadn’t coughed and spit out a mouthful of blood. (God dammit, just thinkin’ about it now makes my blood boil. Daddy beat the hell out of him and Wes let him do it.) I remember takin’ my eyes off Daddy and Wes just long enough to give Jack that look. The one that says back the fuck off right the hell now. He did too. Daddy got a different look altogether. One that was a lot meaner and came with the barrel of a shotgun leveled at him. I told him that if he ever, ever hit my brother again, I’d kill him. I’m pretty sure that in those thirty seconds, I meant it. If he had hit Wes again in that moment I’d have pulled the trigger.
I don’t know what that says about me, the kind of person I am, or what you all think of me now, but I don’t much care. I don’t regret what I did, or what I said then. My brother didn’t deserve that shit. Not from our father, not because Wilber Jansen couldn’t deal with havin’ a gay son. The whole “Not my boy” mentality just made me sick and it still does. Right, wrong or indifferent, Wes wasn’t hurtin’ no one with what he was and he sure as hell wasn’t tryin’ to hurt our folks either. He was tryin’ to do the right thing, always doin’ the right thing and doin’ right by them and me.
Needless to say, Daddy wasn’t givin’ me away after that and I made it very clear I didn’t want him at my weddin’ either. We didn’t even speak to each other for the next couple of years, I can hold a damned grudge with the best of ‘em and so can he. It was actually Wes who got us talkin’ again. How’s that for some shit? Told you he was always the peace maker.
Now, I love my Daddy, I do. I know he ain’t a bad person, he’s just…set in his beliefs and they’re the same as most the people ‘round here. This is Montana and rural Montana at that. You don’t got a whole lot of liberal thinkin’ folks up here. And that ain’t necessarily bad, it takes all kinds, but damn if it don’t make some things mighty uncomfortable. I thought that I could make amends a bit better than I did years ago, maybe get Daddy to finally set this one grudge aside with me by askin’ him to give me away next month when Anrai and I get married…I suppose he just ain’t willin’ to be done bein’ pissed off at me yet.
That’s fine. I’m forty-one years old and I’ve done this once before, I think I can handle walkin’ myself down an aisle. It would have been nice to finally know what it’s like to have your father give you away but I guess he already did that, back in 1985 when I chose to stick up for my brother.
Laine Anderson//Flint Creek//1811
Anrai asked me why it is that my father is suddenly refusin’ to not only give me away in a few week’s time but is also sayin’ he ain’t even comin’ to the weddin’. I just want it to be perfectly clear that it don’t have anythin’ to do with Anrai-nothin’ to do with his family at all. Hell, he gave Anrai his permission and blessin’ when the damned fool asked if he could marry me back in June.
No, I’m afraid this is all on me and Daddy and some bullshit mess that happened just before I got married the first time. I should probably be a bit embarrassed to be admittin’ any of this but I ain’t. Besides, everyone that lives within spittin’ distance of me heard all about it back then and I can guarantee the old busy bodies will be flappin’ about it again when word gets out that Daddy’s bein’ stubborn and cussed.
I know when I talk about my big brother it’s always about the fun we had, the goofy shit and the crazy junk we used to do. I adored him more than life itself and dear God, do I miss him, and I make no bones about that. My big brother is easily one of the best people I have ever known and I can’t help but think the world’s a worse place without him. I know my world is. Somethin’ I don’t usually mention (cause frankly, I don’t give a shit about it and it ain’t no one else’s business anyhow) is that Wes was gay and that’s somethin’ our daddy just couldn’t, wouldn’t and won’t abide by.
I’m sure I probably don’t have to give you a whole lot of detail over just what this damned stupid mess was about, now do I? Y’all are all reasonably intelligent people and it ain’t that hard to figure out. I’m tellin’ you anyhow cause Lord only knows what you’ll hear from some of the real idiots ‘round these parts.
See, Wes pretty much kept things to himself when we were growin’ up. He was older than me by a handful of years so by the time he moved out on his own and was fixin’ to make Flint Creek what it is, I was just getting’ ready to graduate high school-and marry Jackson. Now, Jack bein’ his best friend knew and I knew and well that meant Margene and (God I hate even sayin’ his name any more) Colt knew, but Wes refused to tell Mama and Daddy anythin’ while I was still livin’ at home. He knew how Daddy’d react, I guess, and he didn’t want to put me in the middle of that.
It ain’t like our parents were entirely in the dark but as long as no one actually said anythin’, Mama could keep on pretendin’ it weren’t so and Daddy, well…who the hell knows what he was thinkin’ all that time. Denial, maybe. That’s just how it went in our house for the last couple of years I was in high school. Wes insistin’ on not makin’ waves and me thinkin’ he was being a bit of a coward for it. He always was the one goin’ around bein’ the peace maker while I’m the loudmouth who will get in your face and tell you about yourself. I kept him damned busy, to be honest.
(I don’t know how any of y’all feel hearin’ me talk about my first husband, Anrai, sugar…I know you and I have been round and round on the subject so I ain’t worried that I’m hurtin’ your feelin’s here. I know you and Jack doin’ your best to make nice with each other on my behalf and I love you both all the more for it. As for the rest of y’all, Jackson Anderson might be my ex-husband but he is also one of my best friends. I’ve known him since I was five years old and I don’t mean to ever stop knowin’ him. And it’s damned hard to talk about Wes and not talk about Jack too. I guess I’m just askin’ y’all to bear with me a minute here, is all.)
Wes was set to be Jack’s best man, that ain’t no surprise, they were closer than close, always were. And Daddy was goin’ to give me away. This was all fine and dandy except well, Wes was feelin’ like a kicked dog and then some because he felt like he couldn’t bring who he wanted to bring to the weddin’ with him. Jack and I both told him to bring whoever he wanted and we meant that. Hell, Jack woulda kicked the ass of anyone who tried to start shit over it. I told my brother to stop worrin’ about what the hell anyone else thought and just do what would make him happy. Course this meant Wes felt he needed to tell Mama and Daddy beforehand and not spring it on them in public like that.
There are some things that happen and you can remember every detail of it: what you were doin’, how you were doin’ it, what the weather was like and so on…that afternoon is one of them events for me. Jack and I were in my Mama’s kitchen getting’ something to drink and maybe he was kissin’ on me since everyone else was outside and not around to see. It was hot as hell too, and we’d been carryin’ my stuff from my room upstairs and puttin’ it in the back of his truck. Clothes, tack, all the damned weddin’ presents people had been leavin’ at the house and were about to fall on my head if I navigated around my room the wrong way. I guess the mood was already a bit tense between the heat, the fact that I was movin’ out and in a couple of weeks it would be just Mama and Daddy in that big ol’ farm house and Wes had told Daddy they needed to talk.
I ain’t sure exactly what happened to start it, but we heard Mama scream out in the yard and I lit out of the house so fast and Jack right behind me. I hit the gravel drive just in time to see Daddy belt Wes across the chin and my brother’s head snap back. Wes, God bless him, didn’t hit back. He wouldn’t take a swing at our father for nothin’, only that pissed Daddy off more cause he yelled at him to ‘be a man’ and defend himself. Wes just stood there and took it as Daddy hit him again. Jack made a move to intervene but…I don’t know, he stepped in front of me and in those few seconds Wes lost his footin’ and was on the ground. Daddy just kept wailin’ on him, Mama kept screamin’ and Jack was tryin’ to pull Daddy off Wes who still refused to defend himself.
It ain’t no secret where I get my hot headed temper from. It’s Daddy, through and through. I get just as angry, just as damned fast and I know it. Watchin’ what was goin’ on and knowin’ why it was goin’ on…I snapped. I went back in the house and I grabbed my father’s shot gun (back then, the damned thing was always loaded…hell, you’d probably find half the guns in the county are still put up loaded these days) and when I came back outside I fired the first shell into the air. I did it to get their attention. It worked. Jack, either bein’ braver or stupider than you’d think, let go of Daddy and tried to get me to calm down.
He might have had some luck there if Wes hadn’t coughed and spit out a mouthful of blood. (God dammit, just thinkin’ about it now makes my blood boil. Daddy beat the hell out of him and Wes let him do it.) I remember takin’ my eyes off Daddy and Wes just long enough to give Jack that look. The one that says back the fuck off right the hell now. He did too. Daddy got a different look altogether. One that was a lot meaner and came with the barrel of a shotgun leveled at him. I told him that if he ever, ever hit my brother again, I’d kill him. I’m pretty sure that in those thirty seconds, I meant it. If he had hit Wes again in that moment I’d have pulled the trigger.
I don’t know what that says about me, the kind of person I am, or what you all think of me now, but I don’t much care. I don’t regret what I did, or what I said then. My brother didn’t deserve that shit. Not from our father, not because Wilber Jansen couldn’t deal with havin’ a gay son. The whole “Not my boy” mentality just made me sick and it still does. Right, wrong or indifferent, Wes wasn’t hurtin’ no one with what he was and he sure as hell wasn’t tryin’ to hurt our folks either. He was tryin’ to do the right thing, always doin’ the right thing and doin’ right by them and me.
Needless to say, Daddy wasn’t givin’ me away after that and I made it very clear I didn’t want him at my weddin’ either. We didn’t even speak to each other for the next couple of years, I can hold a damned grudge with the best of ‘em and so can he. It was actually Wes who got us talkin’ again. How’s that for some shit? Told you he was always the peace maker.
Now, I love my Daddy, I do. I know he ain’t a bad person, he’s just…set in his beliefs and they’re the same as most the people ‘round here. This is Montana and rural Montana at that. You don’t got a whole lot of liberal thinkin’ folks up here. And that ain’t necessarily bad, it takes all kinds, but damn if it don’t make some things mighty uncomfortable. I thought that I could make amends a bit better than I did years ago, maybe get Daddy to finally set this one grudge aside with me by askin’ him to give me away next month when Anrai and I get married…I suppose he just ain’t willin’ to be done bein’ pissed off at me yet.
That’s fine. I’m forty-one years old and I’ve done this once before, I think I can handle walkin’ myself down an aisle. It would have been nice to finally know what it’s like to have your father give you away but I guess he already did that, back in 1985 when I chose to stick up for my brother.
Laine Anderson//Flint Creek//1811