Nowhere but Home A Novel - By Liza Palmer Page 0,122
to do is look at us,” West says, voicing what is plainly obvious to everyone.
“We had this long bus ride once, for that all-star Pee Wee League in Dallas?” Cal says. Wes nods. Cal continues. “We sat next to each other and started talking. By the time we got to Dallas, we’d figured it out.” Merry Carole pulls a hankie from her purse and swipes at her eyes, cleaning up the now trailing mascara.
“A bus ride,” DeWitt says.
“I didn’t mind it. I loved living with—” West stops. Not knowing what to call the people he took as his parents for most of his life. He continues, “My grandparents.” Cheryl and DeWitt crumple into each other as West’s voice cracks. He continues, “I don’t ever want y’all to think I thought I was missing out.” A single tear makes its way down his face and he angrily swipes it away.
“Come on over here now, son,” DeWitt says, pulling West into him and Cheryl.
The entire churchyard is sobbing. Not a dry eye anywhere. The minister is watching the entire scene from the steps of the church and he’s wiping away tears like everyone else. The entire town knew. West and Cal knew. What the hell are we all so afraid of?
West breaks from Cheryl and DeWitt and stands in front of Wes and Whitney. Their two littler kids are holding on to Whitney and Wes, unsure of what’s happening, but definitely a bit scared. West looks at the two little kids and then up at Whitney.
“I want you to come home, baby,” Whitney says, finally looking up into her son’s eyes. Cheryl and DeWitt look on with approval. Pride.
“I’d like that,” West says, his chin quivering just like Whitney’s. There’s an awkward pause as the entire churchyard waits. Please hug him. Please hug him. But it’s not Whitney who pulls West in—it’s Wes. And he’s lost it. He engulfs West in arms as big as tree branches and is telling him how proud he is of him. As the McKays hug and cry, Cal stands by; Merry Carole has finally inched all the way up to be by his side.
Cal takes Merry Carole’s hand and whispers so only we can hear, “Thank you for standing up for me. I know it wasn’t easy.” Merry Carole sniffles and is doing her best to keep it together. She nods as the tears stream down her face, mascara trailing behind them.
“You’re my boy,” Merry Carole finally ekes out, pulling Cal close.
My cell phone buzzes in my purse. I pull it out and don’t recognize the number. It buzzes again. I excuse myself and walk farther down the sidewalk, away from the church.
“Hello?” I ask.
“Queen Elizabeth Wake?”
“It’s just Queenie. This is she.”
“Oh right. That’s much better. Queenie, this is Neal Howard. You e-mailed us a résumé a while back—” Neal is flipping through papers. The churchgoers gather around the McKays/Ackermans and offer their congratulations. Everyone knew. The talk quickly turns to football and all is back to normal after just a few minutes. Fifteen years boiled down to five minutes in a churchyard. Whitney has yet to let go of West’s hand. West hasn’t moved, but is still leaning toward Cal. I love that through all of this, they had each other. That they’ll always have each other.
As I walk a bit farther out of the bustling churchyard, I let my eyes rest on Merry Carole and I’m calm. Family. Love. The promise of time together. Neal continues to flip through papers and I wait for him to tell me that he thanks me for my résumé, but— Neal continues, “Aha, there it is. I’m so sorry. I spoke to Brad Carter over at the McCormick and he had some great things to say about you. We’d love it if you would come to Portland and head up the kitchen here at the Raven.” The Raven? I sent out so many résumés, it’s hard to remember. I finally land on the little neighborhood grill in Portland. Family owned, really cute place.
“I applied for the sous-chef position, is that—”
“The reason I’m late getting back to you is because we’ve been restructuring a bit here, which you know is fancy speak for letting our executive chef go. That’s where you come in,” Neal says.
“As the executive chef?”
“We thought the broad spectrum of your experience made you the clear choice for us.” I’m stunned. I continue to walk out of the churchyard.