First, Best and Always

Chapter 25 The Best Advice

Eric paced his father’s living room deep in thought. “The light is still there,” he said to himself. “I didn’t imagine it.” The voice from the other side of the room startled him,

“Didn’t imagine what?”

Eric turned to see his father peering out around the side of the large wingback chair in front of the fireplace. He’d forgotten just how big that chair was, and the way it was positioned; anyone sitting in it was completely hidden. He stood there, as he had many times over the years, like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Standing Elk knew that look all too well,

“Come, sit with me” he said, and moving his feet from the ottoman he made room for his middle son.

“Tell me about this thing that you did not imagine.”

Eric sat, and for the next hour told his father everything that had been happening. Not just with him and the way he felt, but everything he knew about what Raven had been through with Vin. He was surprised to find that Standing Elk already knew much of the story, especially the part about Diesel.

“Am I wrong to feel this way?“ Eric queried. “Am I wrong to think that no one else can know her as I do?” “Is it just ego…my own conceit that tells me that I’m the man she belongs with…belongs to?”

Standing Elk looked deep into his son’s eyes for he knew that the truth in all things would lie there. Finding what he expected, he leaned in closer and said, “Listen now, and I’ll tell you what you must do….”

Eric listened intently knowing that nothing but the truth would come from his father. When he was finished Eric stood and bending over him kissed the top of his head.

“Thanks pop, you’ve given me a lot of things to think about.”

As he turned to go he asked, “How did you find out about it?” His father just smiled, saying

“The same way I found out who rode the strawberry roan until she came up lame.” Then peering at him over his glasses he winked saying “This is a small house, and a big chair.”

Raven could hear the water running upstairs in the shower. Vin was up. He was going to want to talk, and she wasn’t ready. “I’ve got to clear my head,” she said picking up her car keys. Heading for the door she gave one last look up the stairs then went out the door “I have to be sure…”

The car seemed to have a mind of its own. It aimed itself down the well-worn road towards the old Presbyterian churchyard at the edge of town. Passing the church the car pulled itself through the old wrought iron gates of Blessed Angel Cemetery. Winding its way through the myriad of markers it came to a stop beside her family’s plot. Exiting the car she walked slowly to the gravesite. Kneeling she brushed the dried leaves away and read the marker…”Lizbeth and William beloved parents of…” , She sat then, cross-legged on the ground and prayed for guidance. She had not been here since that last time, the day she left them here. She simply could not bring herself to do it. Oh she’d come here many times with the twins to bring flowers, but she always waited outside in the car. She just could not get past that gate…not without him.

The day of the accident had started like most others. Raven had gone to work; her mom had dropped the boys off at school, and her dad off at the office so that she could keep the car to run errands. At the end of the day she would pick everyone up and the four of them would ride home together. When Raven returned from work that day the phone was already ringing off the hook, it was Chris,

“No one has come to pick us up and dad wasn’t at the office.”

Knowing how troublesome they could be when they put their minds to it Raven told them to stay put, she’d be right there to get them. She was on her way out the door just as the Sheriff’s car pulled in the driveway. She didn’t remember much of what happened next, she seemed to recall him saying something about “wrong side of the road,” “a drunk driver” and “being so sorry…” She remembered looking up and seeing the dust trail as Eric’s red pickup raced towards the house…and she remembered the screaming. Someone was screaming, but she couldn’t quite remember who…

In the days and weeks that followed, Eric had been her rock. He took care of everything, the house, the boys, the funeral arrangements, everything. He sat up night after night holding her, rocking her to sleep while that strange woman just kept screaming. Standing at their grave that day she recalled a sermon she’d heard. It was one of those TV ministries, and the Pastor was saying something about ‘choosing’. He said “When choosing a mate, you need to ask yourself whether or not that person is the one you would want to hold your hand as you are lowering your parents' bodies into the grave for the last time,” As she sat here now she remembered how tightly she’d held Eric’s hand that day.