CHAPTER 12: Home For The Holidays
As the road stripes were eaten up one by one by her car, Dakota’s thoughts tumbled around in her head, like her luggage in the trunk, every time she made a turn. Luggage in the trunk is what some aspects of going home felt like. For four months, she had carved out her new life with new friends and a wonderful job, yet somewhere in the deep, dark, locked recesses of her mind, was old luggage. The best friend that had betrayed her, the fiancee that had broken her heart, the legal uproar that had wrecked her peaceful life. When she reached her hometown, she would have to unlock the trunk, and there would be her luggage.
The interstate was grassy and lined with trees on the outer edges, but she knew that only a few miles beyond, on her right side, was the ocean. And only a few miles ahead, was her destination. Long Pass was a coastal town, less than an hour from Pensacola. Her family home was only a few blocks from Powder Beach, a low density area, highly sought after by the snowbirds in the winter, and family vacationers in the summer.
Scenic route next exit, the overhead interstate sign read, and even though the exit that she was waiting for, was hours yet down the way, she eased into the specified lane, hungry for a look at the sea. In a couple of short minutes, she was breathing salty air, and her eyes were skimming over the familiar trappings of the gulf. Choppy gray waters breaking on gray sand, dotted with white gulls. Long piers jutting into the water cris crossed with occupied boat stalls.
The tiny town of Pass Christian gradually gave way to Long Beach, then Gulfport, then Biloxi. Sandy shoreline turned sugary white, somewhere in the transition from town to town. Closer to her hometown, the sand, which consisted of small quartz particles, would be even softer and whiter, among the whitest in the world. Historic buildings and a majestic plantation or two to the left, grand, flashy casinos to the right, her eyes hungrily took it all in. Easing back onto the intrastate, she drove until she crossed the state line of Alabama. Shortly from there, she finally made the exit that would lead her to her tiny coastal hometown, and her family for the holidays.
The long driveway of the familiar two story structure, of much of her childhood and all of her adulthood, was occupied by several vehicles already. And weaving in and out amongst the bumpers, were her three nieces and one nephew, each navigating their own set of wheels. Dakota shook her head, with a smile as she parked, when her sandy haired nephew scraped the side of his mother’s SUV with the handlebars of his bike. Her nieces were on scooters, which fell to the wayside, as the eager children raced toward her car. They converged on her, just as she pushed her door open, and she emerged encircling them all in an excited hug.
“Aunt Codi!!!” They screeched, keeping up a nonstop barrage of questions as they escorted her to the house. She had a small present for each, and she fished these from her large purse, passing them out, as they crossed the manicured lawn, her father’s hobby. The shrubs were perfectly pruned, and a flower, or two, even bloomed in the beds, despite the season. The front door to the house was flung open, and her middle sister stood beneath the arbor and vines that covered the porch, beaming. “Codi!!”
A full half hour, or so, passed, before things settled down. Dakota, her mother, father and sister drank coffee at the tiled kitchen bar. Her other sister, Randi, had worked that day, and was not yet there, and her brothers were scattered about, but a pot of homemade soup simmered on the stove for the evening's meal, when they would all be reunited from their various obligations. The savory aroma caused Dakota to reach for another of her mother’s blueberry muffins. Enthusiastically, she answered their questions about her school, her friends, and caught up on the family happenings.
A tow headed moppet sat in her grandmother's lap, her hands occupied with the souvenir that Dakota had given her. Similar to a snow-globe, it was water and suds, and when twisted and shaken just right, created a whirlpool. Tornado phases, from F1 to F6, were printed on the back. Dakota had lingered over the informative toys in a shop, trying to decipher if it would be in questionable taste to buy them, considering the circumstances, but in the end, had purchased them for each child. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t still add thanks in her prayers that she had come through the ordeal unharmed. Maybe by having those toys around, the miracle would not be lost on the children either.
“Aunt Codi?” Her twelve year old nephew asked, much later that evening. “What’s a tornado like?” He had brought her bags from the car, and set them down in her room as he spoke.
It only took an innocent question to throw her back into the hades of the storm. “Horrible.”
As she contemplated how to explain the horrendous sound, the relentless fury, her ears popping, he asked “What did you do?”
That she could answer easily. “I covered my ears a lot, and prayed until it was over.”
After a few more questions, his curiosity was abated somewhat, and he exited, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The worst part of a tornado, she had learned from the communities in it’s path, was afterward. The long months spent rebuilding, recuperating, or God forbid, learning to live with the loss of a loved one.
In a warm sudsy tub, she tried to soak away some of the stiffness in her limbs, caused by the long drive.
The faces and events of the evening, drifted before her half closed eyelids. The tiled wall, of the tub area, was a projection screen for the memories playing. The tree trimming had been saved for her arrival, and this they had done merrily, with much clowning by her brothers, brothers-in-law, and the children. Her father had sat in his favorite armchair, sipping coffee, and teasing the little ones. She and her sisters had hung a few ornaments, but mostly had sat back as a captive, and sometimes goading, audience. Her mother had taken great delight in the unpacking of the ornaments, as a lot of them had a sentimental history, which she shared, when she could get a word in amidst the childrens’ excitement.
The bath was intended to be a sleep aid, but an hour later, when she was still tossing and turning in the bed of her adolescent years, she gave up, and got up. With the intention of getting a drink from the kitchen, she crept down the dark hallway, and her feet noiselessly descended the stairway.
The refrigerator nightlight was on, and she didn’t bother with the overhead lights. Going directly to the shadowy hulk of cabinets, she pulled the door of the one that had contained glasses for as long as she could remember. The pads of her fingers touched, then closed around a tumbler, but as she slid it from the group, it hit against something else, and a small clatter sounded on the counter top, then lower onto the ceramic tiled floor. Dakota groped for the object to replace it, and found it to be instead two prescription pill containers. Or more.
Wearily, she crossed to the light over the sink, switching it on, so that she would not inadvertently miss one of the bottles, and leave it lying around, a taboo with small children in and out of the house. Gathering them up, four in all, she frowned curiously at the labels in the dim light, before setting them back on the shelf. The patient's name was her father, the drugs names were unrecognizable to her.
“Sis? Still zombie walking?” Her brother Mart’s voice startled her into dropping, for the second time, the prescription canister.
“For Petesake. Still sneaking up on people?!” As she griped, she pivoted toward him, picking the pill bottle up in one sweep. “What is this stuff? Is dad sick?”
Reaching beyond her onto the shelf, Mart extracted a drinking glass, as she replaced the prescriptions in their orderly row. “Just high blood pressure, nothing scary.” From the fridge, he pulled a cardboard orange juice carton, and twisted the cap.
“Are you sure? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Look at the dates. He just went to the doctor last week. He had been having chest pains, but the doc said it was just hypertension. His blood sugar and his cholesterol is too high, but he is working on that.” After filling his glass halfway, he moved the carton to hers. “Tell me when.”
Idly, she watched the liquid flow, and worried for a second more. “When.”
The appliance light blinked into the shadowy room again, as he opened the refrigerator, and set the carton inside.
“So why are you prowling around this late?” The juice was cool, and sweet against her throat.
Dropping his long length to a high stool at the breakfast bar, he replied, “Just got in.”
Her eyes found the daisy shaped kitchen clock and made out the time. “And where have you been until two in the morning?”
Responding to her teasing tone in kind, he jokingly used his hands as a shield against the dim sink light. “I was out with my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?!” Her brows raised in intrigue. This was new to her. This particular little brother was just out of high school and had just completed his first semester at the local community college. A surge of regret flashed through her, that she was no longer involved in everyday life around her family’s household. Mart still lived at home, but even all of her siblings that had moved out, still lived within a close, secure circumference of their childhood home.
She had thought she was happy in her new life, but being home brought back so many nostalgic feelings. Zombie walking is what her brothers, as adolescents, had dubbed her insomniac kitchen raids, while she had still lived here. They had always joked that in a hundred years, her ghost would still be making the trek from her room, downstairs, to the kitchen. Mart had, since preschool age, had sneaked up on her and her sisters, while they were playing Barbies or videos, and when he was older, on them and their dates. He had thought it was funny, they had thought it bratty.
“I met her at Orange Community.” Vaguely, he referred to his college by it’s shortened name. “You’ll get to meet her tomorrow. She’s coming by here, then we’re going up the road to play volleyball for awhile.”
After she drilled him on the mystery girls’s name, his course of study, and interests, they simultaneously ascended the stairs, then split into their own rooms. It wasn’t until the next morning that she discovered a missed a call on her cell from Evan.
“You were supposed to call me when you arrived safely.” He crossly reminded, when she returned the call the next morning.
“Sorry, I guess I forgot in all of the excitement.” The apology was contrite, and they talked for a little while longer before saying their goodbyes.
Hearing his voice made her miss him. How could a person be torn so in two different directions? Dropping her phone into her purse, she kicked her shoes from beneath the bedside table, and stepped into them. It was almost noon, and she and Shanna were going to meet Randi, their oldest sister, for lunch at one of their favorite Italian restaurants. Shanna was a stay at home mom, and the caretaker of Randi’s kids during the days that Randi worked as a nurse in a local pediatrician’s office.
Descending to the first story, Dakota met Mart’s girlfriend, who was just arriving. Mart made the introductions, and after only a minute or so of small talk, went running out the door with his willowy date. Dakota’s mother shook her head, smiling after them, declaring that he always ran on full speed. Topped out, Dakota and her sisters had always ribbed him. Shanna had arrived, just prior to Mart’s girlfriend. With a wave to her nieces and nephews, and her mother, who was minding the kids while her daughters had their lunch, Dakota bolted to her own car. Shanna was close behind, both aware that they too were close to running late.
“So what did you think of her?” Shanna asked, when Dakota mentioned the meeting with Mart’s girlfriend to Randi during lunch.
Dipping her bread stick into Alfredo sauce, Dakota mused “She seemed nice. Is she?”
Randi shrugged. “He hasn’t been seeing her for long.”
“She was on the cheer squad with Calin’s little sister when she was a senior.” Shanna volunteered.
Time to open a suitcase. There had been no time to think about the past since she had arrived yesterday, but here it was now, and she asked warily, not sure she wanted to know the answer. “How is Calin?” Deliberately she left out Brian, not able to say the name in the same sentence as her best friend. The last she had heard, they were still attending the same church as always, the church that Dakota’s family attended.
Shanna and Randi exchanged a quick glance, and it was Shanna who answered. “We don’t think they are together anymore. Brian took that position as youth director at a church in Tallahassee.” Shanna had already confided that on the phone a couple of months ago. Woodenly, Dakota probed at her Ravioli Portobelo with the prongs of her fork, awaiting the rest of this update. “They were talking about getting married. They were supposed to set the date, then she was going to move after the wedding.”
“Only she is not wearing a ring anymore, and Holli saw her having lunch with another man.” Randi interjected, speaking of her own best friend Holli.
Dakota’s stomach settled some, and she forked a bite. A couple of sarcastic rejoinders came to mind, but she held her tongue and busied herself chewing instead. Mixed emotions stirred through her, like the tea that Shanna was sugaring and stirring. Bitter as tea, she wanted to say that it served Calin right if Brian had dumped her, or visa versa. But she had sweetly loved Brian and Calin both enough to not wish either of them the hurt she had been through. Well maybe Brian, she wavered again.
The digital jingle of a cell phone tuned, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” and Randi grabbed her purse from the spare chair, rolling her eyes. “The part-time girl we hired is so inept. I can’t remember the last time I had an entire lunch without her calling about–“ With a sudden frown, she halted her complaining, and hit the answer button. “What has he done now?!”
Dakota and Shanna exchanged an amused glance, knowing that the numerals on the cell’s caller id must have identified their parent’s residence. Randi, who struggled with pessimism, would naturally assume that her son, who delighted in being a prankster, like his uncles had always been, was causing problems with his younger female cousins and siblings.
The waitress stopped inquiringly by the table, and Dakota politely declined her offer of more bread sticks. As the girl moved away, Randi’s face drooped, and her eyes flew to each of her sisters faces. Quickly, she wound up the conversation, without taking her eyes from the steady, stability of each of theirs, and snapped the phone closed.
“Mrs. Rescott is with the kids.”
“From next door?”
“Mother had to take Dad to the ER”
“Why? What’s happening?!”
“She wasn’t sure. Dizziness or something.” Randi threw her linen napkin to the table, and Dakota and Shanna followed suit. After rising from the table, they split in different directions. Dakota tracked their surprised waitress down for the check. Randi went after her car, and Shanna flew to the restroom. Dakota and Shanna exited together, to find Randi’s car ideling directly out front, and they hopped in, electing to come back later for Dakota’s car.
The hospital in their town was small, but well staffed. It wasn’t hard to find medical personnel willing to relocate to a coastal town. Their mother hurried to the waiting area, after a nurse informed her of the girls arrival. Visibly, she was stressed, but a light of respite was in her eyes. Immediately, she spoke to calm them, explaining that it was a blood sugar episode, but that he was stable, and expected to recover completely and quickly.
Her father remained in the hospital until Christmas Eve morning, when he was released and admonished to rest. On that evening, they sang a few carols with the children, and had a light meal. Later, when the children went to bed, Mart stayed with their father at the house, while the rest of the family went to a midnight service at their church. During the candlelight vigil, Dakota’s eyes drifted around the room a time or two, and she spotted Calin.
When the last amen was said, she and Calin stood on the steps of the church, and made amends.
~END CHAPTER 12~