time for me to cut the apron strings and let you finish growing into your manhood.”
Now that surprised him, so he drew back. Her mascara had run at the corners of her dark eyes, but otherwise, she was as show-stoppingly beautiful as she ever was.
“I’ve never considered myself tied to your apron strings. Are you saying I’m not my own man?”
She patted his cheek. “Now, don’t get all pissed off at me. That’s not what I’m saying at all. You’re a man, make no mistake, but part of growing into your manhood is finding a woman to love, settling down, and having kids. I’m afraid you won’t do that if I’m around.”
He looked over at his daddy’s grave, and it angered him when Amanda rose in his mind. Even after four years, she still had the ability to hurt him. “I don’t know that I’ll ever marry, Mama. Look how much loving someone hurt you.” He didn’t say anything about how much it had already hurt him. It would have been disrespectful to so much as mention Amanda’s name in this sacred place.
Before he could blink, his mama thrust one of her fake signature red fingernails into his chest. He grunted.
“Don’t you think for a second that I would trade in my time with your daddy because he was taken from me too soon. Who’s to say why it happened? That’s not for me to know. But I loved that man like crazy, and we were so lucky to find each other and have you. As far as I’m concerned, my life has been darn near perfect.”
A stinger shot through his heart. “I can’t look back on losing Daddy that way. I hate it.”
She nestled her head against his chest, and they rocked back and forth while the wind scattered the fall leaves around the gray tombstones carved with the names of other people’s lost loved ones. “I couldn’t at first either. That’s come with time and wisdom. You’ll make your peace some day.”
But not today.
The claws of a grief never fully squelched dug into his throat, and tears burned his eyes, making him all the madder. “It isn’t fair. I still miss him, Mama. There are so many times when I wish I could call him up and tell him about a concert we just finished or a tour stop we left.”
“You can tell him, honey. I still talk to your daddy from time to time. How do you think I knew Rye Crenshaw was going to be a star?”
He pressed back to gaze down at her. “But I thought you heard Rye’s voice and had that feeling.”
“I did, but I still asked your father. And when I ask him if I’m right about something, I always tell him to put a penny on the ground for me to find if I am. And darn if he doesn’t listen.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?” he asked in total shock.
Her shoulder went up, and she took the flask from his hand. “I thought you’d think your mama foolish.”
“Never foolish,” he told her and accepted the flask after she took another drink.
“I’m going to let you have your time with him,” she said, taking the flask and returning it to her purse. “You talk to your daddy now, but there’s no rule saying you can’t talk to him elsewhere, Clayton. He’s not really here, you know. He’s everywhere we go because he’s inside our hearts and always will be.”
Crap, he felt tears pop into his eyes like some girl. He blinked hard so he wouldn’t disappoint his mama—or embarrass himself. “I know.”
Even though she wore spiky cowboy boots, she still had to rise on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. “You make me so proud, Clayton. I love you.”
He hugged her again. “I love you too, Mama.”
“Ask your daddy to send you a sign. He’ll do it. That man never broke a promise.”
With that, she headed off, her heels sinking into the freshly mowed grass.
Left alone, Clayton sank to his haunches and reached for the stationery resting against the grave.
Dear Jimmy Ray,
My husband and me recently celebrated our thirty-fifth anniversary. We met at your concert in Dallas in 1978 and played “Love
Now that surprised him, so he drew back. Her mascara had run at the corners of her dark eyes, but otherwise, she was as show-stoppingly beautiful as she ever was.
“I’ve never considered myself tied to your apron strings. Are you saying I’m not my own man?”
She patted his cheek. “Now, don’t get all pissed off at me. That’s not what I’m saying at all. You’re a man, make no mistake, but part of growing into your manhood is finding a woman to love, settling down, and having kids. I’m afraid you won’t do that if I’m around.”
He looked over at his daddy’s grave, and it angered him when Amanda rose in his mind. Even after four years, she still had the ability to hurt him. “I don’t know that I’ll ever marry, Mama. Look how much loving someone hurt you.” He didn’t say anything about how much it had already hurt him. It would have been disrespectful to so much as mention Amanda’s name in this sacred place.
Before he could blink, his mama thrust one of her fake signature red fingernails into his chest. He grunted.
“Don’t you think for a second that I would trade in my time with your daddy because he was taken from me too soon. Who’s to say why it happened? That’s not for me to know. But I loved that man like crazy, and we were so lucky to find each other and have you. As far as I’m concerned, my life has been darn near perfect.”
A stinger shot through his heart. “I can’t look back on losing Daddy that way. I hate it.”
She nestled her head against his chest, and they rocked back and forth while the wind scattered the fall leaves around the gray tombstones carved with the names of other people’s lost loved ones. “I couldn’t at first either. That’s come with time and wisdom. You’ll make your peace some day.”
But not today.
The claws of a grief never fully squelched dug into his throat, and tears burned his eyes, making him all the madder. “It isn’t fair. I still miss him, Mama. There are so many times when I wish I could call him up and tell him about a concert we just finished or a tour stop we left.”
“You can tell him, honey. I still talk to your daddy from time to time. How do you think I knew Rye Crenshaw was going to be a star?”
He pressed back to gaze down at her. “But I thought you heard Rye’s voice and had that feeling.”
“I did, but I still asked your father. And when I ask him if I’m right about something, I always tell him to put a penny on the ground for me to find if I am. And darn if he doesn’t listen.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?” he asked in total shock.
Her shoulder went up, and she took the flask from his hand. “I thought you’d think your mama foolish.”
“Never foolish,” he told her and accepted the flask after she took another drink.
“I’m going to let you have your time with him,” she said, taking the flask and returning it to her purse. “You talk to your daddy now, but there’s no rule saying you can’t talk to him elsewhere, Clayton. He’s not really here, you know. He’s everywhere we go because he’s inside our hearts and always will be.”
Crap, he felt tears pop into his eyes like some girl. He blinked hard so he wouldn’t disappoint his mama—or embarrass himself. “I know.”
Even though she wore spiky cowboy boots, she still had to rise on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. “You make me so proud, Clayton. I love you.”
He hugged her again. “I love you too, Mama.”
“Ask your daddy to send you a sign. He’ll do it. That man never broke a promise.”
With that, she headed off, her heels sinking into the freshly mowed grass.
Left alone, Clayton sank to his haunches and reached for the stationery resting against the grave.
Dear Jimmy Ray,
My husband and me recently celebrated our thirty-fifth anniversary. We met at your concert in Dallas in 1978 and played “Love
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