Read Online Long Ride Home by Elizabeth Hunter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Hunter
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asked.
“One.” Jena smiled. “And you wanted to get down and walk everywhere. We put your portable crib up in the living room and you chattered to every one of our friends who were helping us move.”
“But you liked it, right Mom?”
She smiled. “Yep. You were telling me stories even then; I just didn’t understand ‘em.”
Aaron grinned. “What did you do, Low?”
Low was still staring out the window sullenly, so Jena answered. “He mostly hung out with Daddy and Grandpa Max.”
Thick as thieves. Despite their different temperaments, her oldest son and her husband had been inseparable. She saw Low blinking hard and tried to distract him. “Hey, Low, Grandpa Max says he has a fishing trip all planned out for next weekend.”
Aaron piped up. “Can I go, too?”
“I think so.”
Low finally spoke. “I don’t know. It might be a real fishing trip. Not one for babies.”
“Mom! Low called me a—”
“Don’t call your brother a baby, Lowell.”
The boy muttered, “Don’t call me Lowell, Jena .”
A red haze fell over her eyes and Jena swung the car to the curb with a jerk. Thank God they were on a wide stretch of road. She shut off the car and got out, walking around to pull open her son’s door. She could already see the embarrassed tears in Low’s eyes as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Aaron stared at them both, open-mouthed.
She slammed the door after he stepped out, marched him to the back of the car, beyond the sight of his younger brother, then spun on him.
“Not in a million years, Lowell McCann! Not in a million years do you talk to me that way. Do you understand?”
He blinked hard and the tears rolled down his red cheeks. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered.
“What do you think your father would say if he heard you?”
“He’d be mad.”
“You bet he would.” Jena was blinking away her own tears as she stood in front of her son with her hands on her hips. His shoulders were slumped, and he was sniffing and wiping his nose with the sleeve of his T-shirt. In a second, Jena swept him into her arms and held tight. She could feel Low’s tears soaking her collar as she bent down to his ear.
“Aaron doesn’t understand any of this, buddy. And I know there’s a lot that you don’t understand either. Hell—don’t use that word—there’s a lot I don’t understand, but I know this is the right thing. And it’s what your dad wanted. I know you miss your friends and—”
“It’s not about my friends,” he mumbled.
Jena stroked his thick brown hair, so like her own. “I know it’s not. But you’re giving up a lot more in this move than Aaron is. I know that.”
“Why did he want us to move, Mom? He loved it in Oregon.”
“I know.” She paused and watched the Subaru rock as a truck drove past, then peeked inside to see Aaron craning his neck to watch them. “He did, but he loved us more. And he knew…” Oh, Lowell, what did you think you knew? Why were you so adamant about going back to a place we tried so hard to leave?
Low was still looking at her like a lost child. Jena said, “Your dad knew the Springs were going to be the best place for us. That we needed to be there, I guess.”
“But why?”
So many reasons. But Jena said, “For family. You’ll find out when we get there. And as much as I’m not looking forward to it, I think Dad was right. I think we need to go back. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing this.”
They stood in silence, Jena’s arms still wrapped around her tall boy. Low finally said, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“I know.”
“You only called Dad ‘Lowell.’”
“That’s not completely true. I call you ‘Lowell’ when I’m really mad at you.”
He sniffed again. “Are you still mad?”
“You ever going to call me Jena again?”
“Only if we’re at the grocery store, and you’re not answering to ‘Mom.’”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She ruffled his hair and walked him back to his side of the car, reaching into
“One.” Jena smiled. “And you wanted to get down and walk everywhere. We put your portable crib up in the living room and you chattered to every one of our friends who were helping us move.”
“But you liked it, right Mom?”
She smiled. “Yep. You were telling me stories even then; I just didn’t understand ‘em.”
Aaron grinned. “What did you do, Low?”
Low was still staring out the window sullenly, so Jena answered. “He mostly hung out with Daddy and Grandpa Max.”
Thick as thieves. Despite their different temperaments, her oldest son and her husband had been inseparable. She saw Low blinking hard and tried to distract him. “Hey, Low, Grandpa Max says he has a fishing trip all planned out for next weekend.”
Aaron piped up. “Can I go, too?”
“I think so.”
Low finally spoke. “I don’t know. It might be a real fishing trip. Not one for babies.”
“Mom! Low called me a—”
“Don’t call your brother a baby, Lowell.”
The boy muttered, “Don’t call me Lowell, Jena .”
A red haze fell over her eyes and Jena swung the car to the curb with a jerk. Thank God they were on a wide stretch of road. She shut off the car and got out, walking around to pull open her son’s door. She could already see the embarrassed tears in Low’s eyes as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Aaron stared at them both, open-mouthed.
She slammed the door after he stepped out, marched him to the back of the car, beyond the sight of his younger brother, then spun on him.
“Not in a million years, Lowell McCann! Not in a million years do you talk to me that way. Do you understand?”
He blinked hard and the tears rolled down his red cheeks. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered.
“What do you think your father would say if he heard you?”
“He’d be mad.”
“You bet he would.” Jena was blinking away her own tears as she stood in front of her son with her hands on her hips. His shoulders were slumped, and he was sniffing and wiping his nose with the sleeve of his T-shirt. In a second, Jena swept him into her arms and held tight. She could feel Low’s tears soaking her collar as she bent down to his ear.
“Aaron doesn’t understand any of this, buddy. And I know there’s a lot that you don’t understand either. Hell—don’t use that word—there’s a lot I don’t understand, but I know this is the right thing. And it’s what your dad wanted. I know you miss your friends and—”
“It’s not about my friends,” he mumbled.
Jena stroked his thick brown hair, so like her own. “I know it’s not. But you’re giving up a lot more in this move than Aaron is. I know that.”
“Why did he want us to move, Mom? He loved it in Oregon.”
“I know.” She paused and watched the Subaru rock as a truck drove past, then peeked inside to see Aaron craning his neck to watch them. “He did, but he loved us more. And he knew…” Oh, Lowell, what did you think you knew? Why were you so adamant about going back to a place we tried so hard to leave?
Low was still looking at her like a lost child. Jena said, “Your dad knew the Springs were going to be the best place for us. That we needed to be there, I guess.”
“But why?”
So many reasons. But Jena said, “For family. You’ll find out when we get there. And as much as I’m not looking forward to it, I think Dad was right. I think we need to go back. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing this.”
They stood in silence, Jena’s arms still wrapped around her tall boy. Low finally said, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“I know.”
“You only called Dad ‘Lowell.’”
“That’s not completely true. I call you ‘Lowell’ when I’m really mad at you.”
He sniffed again. “Are you still mad?”
“You ever going to call me Jena again?”
“Only if we’re at the grocery store, and you’re not answering to ‘Mom.’”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She ruffled his hair and walked him back to his side of the car, reaching into
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