1992 (Part One)

It was 1992.

They spent two days in Texas and neither of them could wait to get home. He worked on and off in town through the winter as he planned their future, and they celebrated their first Christmas as a family. With that though, came Ruby's leave, which meant doing the thing he'd been dreading since the day he met her mom; he had to live up to his end of the deal.

It would be the first time he'd spoken to either of them in over five years. He sat up for the whole night before trying to put together what exactly he would say. It depended on who answered the phone. If it was his mother, he would just have to weather the storm of her complaints for as long as it took, before letting her know about his new family, which he was sure would shut her up.

His father was a different animal. He wouldn't be surprised if he hung up the moment he heard Paul's voice. He didn't even know if he had the right phone number. Maybe Janice had made a mistake in her letter.

The more he thought about it, the more worried that he was becoming. There was only one solution. He got up slowly out of the bed, trying his best not to wake Ruby. He snuck out into the kitchen, opening the cupboard below the sink and sticking his hand deep into the back.

He had a small bag of weed with some papers taped onto the back of an old drain cleaning bottle. It was terrible stuff, dry and dusty like the plains of Oklahoma themselves, but it would do the trick. There wasn't any other choice.

He opened the door as slowly as he could, just wide enough for him to slide through. It had an awful creak to it and he'd had these midnight outings enough times to know exactly when to stop it. His timing was a little off that night, and the creak rang out through their small apartment like a rifle. He did a double-take, but everything remained still. He slowly shut the door behind him and locked it as he went out into the chilly night.

As he walked away from the apartment, he started playing out all of the possible ways the conversation the next morning could go, but he tried to let go of it and focus on something else, at least until he was prepared to deal with it. He got in, turned on the battery, and quickly shut off the lights before they could shine out into the parking lot.

He let out a sigh like he had been holding it in since getting out of bed, and turned on the radio. He loved listening to the news at night, there was always something a little peaceful about knowing that there were things happening out in the world that were worse than what he was going through. He wondered if that was something that he should feel guilty about sometimes, but never too much.

As the sweet and soothing voices of the NPR anchors filled the small Toyota, he pulled a cd case from the center console and spread the weed, along with a little bit of tobacco to help mask the smell if anyone happened to be walking by, across the case and started twisting up a joint.

With the joint complete, he put the CD case back and turned off the car. He loved smoking and walking at night when he was stressed, even on cold nights like those. They were on the outskirts of town, and there were rarely ever any people around that late, let alone anyone who gave a shit enough to call the cops on someone smoking weed.

He walked down to a local trail and lit the joint. It was harsh and tasted like dirt. There was something about the South that made for, in his experience, really terrible weed. Even in Honduras, it was the same. It was cheap, usually yellow or brown, and came in tightly compacted bricks. It was the worst of the worst, but beggars can't be choosers.

Paul relished those moments alone in nature. There was something so wonderful about being alone, underneath the night sky, connecting with everything. It made things seem a little bit clearer, and make just a fraction of a percent more sense than they did before when there were hundreds of distractions taking up his time and energy during the day. The more he smoked, the more the edge wore off, and he started to feel good again.

He came upon a large hill and climbed to the top, where he found a small bench. He sat on it and looked up at the stars. It was a beautiful night. He had always loved looking up into the night sky, especially when he had been smoking. It seemed to put everything in perspective for him. All of his problems were nothing but a tiny blip, on a tiny blip, of the grand majesty of the cosmos.

That had given him comfort, and made him feel like nothing was too big of an obstacle to think his way out of, as long as he relaxed and didn't take it too seriously. Troubles would come, and troubles would go, but he could figure them out.

He took a long drag, his eyes firmly fixed on the sky. It was time to figure out exactly what needed to be done. Texas was obviously out, and frankly, he was dead set on moving out of the South in general as soon as they could.

Montana was a sinkhole, but at least it was a sinkhole that he knew. There was some promise, at least. He could start back in Mountain West, and eventually move to Missoula or even over into Idaho or Washington. He had been to Coeur d' Alene a few times with his father on fishing trips when he was younger. The mountains and lakes were some of the most beautiful things that he had ever seen. That definitely wouldn't be a bad place to live.

From there they could go to Spokane, or maybe even as far west as Seattle or the coast, and try and make it out there. Montana could be a jumping-off point to anywhere in the west. That was better than nothing. It had to be. His parents would berate him, sure, but they were grandparents now, and they'd probably be happy just to hear that he wasn't dead in a gutter somewhere. People do change sometimes. He liked to think that he'd changed quite a bit since he'd left home, so who was to say that they hadn't?

Well, 20 years of experience with them before that five-year gap was a pretty good point against that, but he had to hope for the best. He just had to think of the best way to put it to them that would make it all okay.

He knew how to play on their personalities well. He had used his mother's self-centered nature since he could remember. He would listen to her go on and on about her hardships, and could even give her that sweet satisfaction that he so rarely gave out of agreeing that things were tough for her. He would be a shoulder to cry on, and then hit her with the news that she was a grandma. It was a one-two punch that she wouldn't be able to resist.

Then he would mention that he wanted to come back home so that they could see little PJ, and when he got there, he could bring up the idea of them living there for a bit until they got on their feet. There would be no way she could resist if the baby was there with them.

Now that was settled, it was time to move on to Frank. He took another deep drag and blew out the smoke into the sky. An idea came to him. His father was arrogant, and what attitudes compliment arrogance better than submission and recognition?

He would tell his father that he had been right all along, and that he was a fool to ever have doubted his wisdom. He knew best, in fact, he knew so much that his son needed his help to learn how to be a father. Only someone with his experience and tact would do. When that hooked him and they got out there, he would faux-beg his father for forgiveness to get them to help support Ruby and the baby while he found a way to get on his feet.

Was it shady? Absolutely. Did he care? Not in the slightest. He put up with them for two decades and figured he may as well get something out of it while he could, and if they got the satisfaction that they wanted after all those years from him, then everyone wins.

He took the last hit of the joint, trying his best not to burn his fingers, and tossed it onto the ground before stamping it out. A smile crossed his face. He finally had a plan.

It was a comforting thought, but one axiom that he'd always held close was that chaos could rear its ugly head at any time and throw away even the most calculated plans that people made. His mom used to say, "Tell God that you've got a plan, and watch him sit back and laugh."

He didn't know about God, but there was always something that could throw a wrench into even the most well-thought-out endeavors. It wouldn't be the first time, nor the last. He sometimes wondered why people ever bothered to plan anything when they knew things could always change on a dime.

For then, at least, he didn't care. Chaos was chaos, and there's no changing that. There's that bit about having the serenity to accept what you can't change, right? That's where Paul found himself then. It was a beautiful night, and he was content to just watch the stars and relax for a bit before he had to go back to the world.

Suddenly, a voice from a dark place deep inside him rose to the front of his mind.

Some day they're all going to know the truth about you.

"No," he said aloud, almost shocking himself.

No, not now. His mood was too good to get into any of that. He had better things to worry about.

You're a fraud and a failure. No one wanted you then, and the only reason anyone wants you now is because they don't know who or what you really are. When they find out, you'll be alone again.

He tried to force the thoughts from his mind. Usually, the voice would calm down only when he was high on something, but the stress of what was to come must have really been working on him that night.

You might as well give up. Spokane, Colorado Springs, it doesn't matter where you go. You can't get away from yourself. Wherever you go, they're you'll be.

"No," he said again, a little louder. He tried to light a cigarette to calm down, but his hands were shaking and the fire from his lighter kept going out.

You'll never be happy, Paul. NEVER. You're going to fail and fail and fail until you finally die, worthless and alone. You thought you'd find happiness with the Governor. WRONG. You thought you'd find it in the Army. Wrong again. Your parents were right. Your teachers were right. Even that fat fuck who left you in the woods…

His hands were shaking more and more, and he was starting to hyperventilate. He tried desperately to push the voice away, and ignore everything it was saying, but how can you ignore yourself?

"Stop!" he called out into the ether. "Please stop. It's not true! It's not true!"

You're a failure. You always have been and you always will be. Stop lying to yourself. You might as well just give up now and spare everyone the heartache. It's your only way out and you know it.

His breath was coming faster and faster, as that horrible little voice in his head kept taunting him. Everything he'd spent so long running from was coming back. Why now? He had done the right thing, right? He was a good person, someone that people respected. He wasn't a failure. He wasn't a failure.

"I'm not a failure," he said, weakly. Tears were starting to fall from his eyes. He tried again to light his cigarette, but nothing was working. He tossed his lighter into the darkness and tore up the cigarette in anger.

He tried to steel his resolve and fight back. The last time he heard the voice was his last night in Honduras when he couldn't sleep. Every time he tried something new and it didn't work out, the voice would rear its head, and every time, it got a little bit stronger. It had been so long since the last time that it came up that he'd almost forgotten about it. Ruby, the baby, everything had been going so well, or at least that's what he thought. Now, he wasn't sure.

Maybe it was right. Maybe once Ruby knew that underneath all of his bravado and confidence, he was just a scared little fat kid who had no real plan, she'd leave him and take the baby with her. He always figured that if he worked hard and set a goal, then happiness and success would eventually materialize, but he had been proven wrong so many times that he wasn't sure what to believe.

You've always known it, Paul. Let go now before it's too late. Maybe you can make it look like an accident. No one's out here, and the hillside is pretty steep.

"Shut up."

You were stoned and took a tumble in the dark. It's embarrassing, sure, but a whole lot less than letting this farce play out. An accident is better than what's bound to happen eventually.

"Shut the fuck up!"

His vision started to blur from the tears in his eyes. Maybe it was right. An accident wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, would it? But what about Ruby? What about PJ? He couldn't just up and leave them, could he?

"No," he said aloud, this time a little more composed. "No, I can't give up now, not before I've had a chance. I can do it. I know I can do it."

He thought he sounded convincing, but who exactly was he trying to convince? He didn't have time to worry about any of it, not now. He had to worry about getting his parents back on his side. It was the only way. The clock was ticking, and he had to look forward, or he'd fall into the void and never make it out.

He stood up, already regretting tossing his lighter. He thought about looking for it, but was worried he may actually end up accidentally falling down the hillside, and that was one cosmic joke that he refused to take part in. His high was ruined, and whatever solace the night sky may have given him was forfeit. He walked home slowly, trying his best to calm down and keep the voice at bay.

He made it back home a few minutes later, still shaken. He took a long, hot shower to try and calm down before sliding into bed next to Ruby, who was already sleeping. Sleep for him would come much later, and would be filled with nightmares about the day it all began. No matter how far he went, he still couldn't escape it.

By the time he'd woken up the next morning, it was nearly 11. Ruby was already off to work at the base, and had left a note telling him that she'd taken PJ with her so he could focus on dealing with his parents. It was one less thing that he'd have to worry about while he prepared.

He already had some baseline information. He called Mike not long after PJ was born to share the news, and found out that his parents had moved back to Mountain West earlier that year, and were even living in their old house. With that and what he'd gotten from Janice, he didn't have any more excuses. It was go time.

He dialed the number and took a deep breath, holding on to a little hope that maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't pick up and he could forget about it. That was all quashed by the third ring, when he heard the unmistakable voice of his mother on the other end of the line.

"Mom? It's me."

She didn't say anything for a few seconds before finally answering.

"Paulie?" she said, sounding astonished.

"Yep," he mumbled out.

Suddenly, all that planning he'd made was out the window, and he was a stuttering little boy again.

He cleared his throat. She was never going to make the first move, so he had to push ahead.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to call you. I wasn't sure how to get ahold of you."

Again there was silence. He wondered if she had maybe had a heart attack or had dropped the phone. Finally, he could hear her sniffling.

Here came the storm.

"After five years!" she almost shouted into the phone.

"Five goddamn years and this is the first we've heard from you! Do you know how worried I was, or how worried we all were that something happened to you? Every month that passed without a phone call, I was waiting for them to bring a folded flag to our door!"

She went on for a while, just like he knew she would. He would offer the occasional apologies or assuring her that she was correct, but he mostly let her run herself out of steam. She did finally slow down, after what felt like an hour, and ended her rant with a simple:

"So, how have you been?"

"I've been good, really good actually. I saw the world, well some of the world anyway, and now I'm in Oklahoma. My contract ended a couple of months ago and I'm off active duty."

"Oklahoma? What in the world are you doing in Oklahoma?"

He took another deep breath. This was the moment of truth.

"That's actually why I wanted to get in touch with you; I've got some big news."

He paused, waiting for her to ask what it was, but he should have known better.

"You aren't in trouble, are you? Oh lord, I just knew something like this would happen."

He knew he had to step in and stop her quick or she would never stop so he cut her off.

"I'm not in trouble, Mom. The news is good news. I'm a husband now, and you're a grandma."

Silence. After what felt like forever, he was going to say something but she finally spoke.

"Where are you, exactly?"

That was not what he was expecting. He answered without thinking. "We're in Lawton. My wife is still enlisted at Fort Sill."

Silence again, but this time it wasn't for long.

"Your father and I will be at the nearest airport on Saturday. I'll call you back later with the details."

Then she hung up. That was it. He had no idea what had happened. They would be there on Saturday? How did they even know where to find him? How was she even going to call him back?

He stood up and looked around their small and dirty apartment. He only had three days before the real storm would arrive, and if they had any real chance of succeeding in their Montana move, he had to prepare.

His mind jumped into action, and he reached for his wallet and keys. He rushed out of the door so fast he forgot to lock it behind him. He ran down the stairs before he had even realized that Ruby had the car.

"Fuck," he grumbled, probably a little louder than he should have.

He had to get to the closest Wal-Mart and there was no time to waste. Luckily it wasn't that far, it was time to put all of that PT that he'd spent endless years doing to the test.

Later that afternoon, he returned with two large bags that were filled with everything he needed to make the place presentable to his parents. They were notorious neat freaks, and his mother us unimpressed with anything less than 100 percent cleanliness. It wasn't exactly her fault, her mother used to make her and her little brother scrub then entire house with toothbrushes every Saturday morning, but it was a massive pain in the ass nonetheless.

That'd never been in the South before, and they didn't know about the mold or the bugs that never stopped coming. They didn't know about the cockroaches that hide deep in corners, behind pipes or between the walls, that would never truly go away. He would just have to try and make the facade as nice as possible.

By the time Ruby arrived home, he'd done the living room and both bedrooms from top to bottom, and was just getting into the kitchen. He was already three joints deep when she opened the door -who could spend six hours cleaning without it?- and was starting to sober up again. He was tired, and the fumes that all of the cleaning supplies were giving off were starting to make him dizzy.

When the door opened, he had just started working on the stove. Ruby walked into the kitchen with PJ in her arms. When she saw Paul, she stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him. She thought that he'd lost his mind.

He was only wearing boxers and a black tank-top, and had large, purple rubber gloves pulled all the way up to his elbows on both arms, and was holding a sponge in one hand and a spray bottle in the other. A lit cigarette was hanging out of his mouth, dropping ashes on the countertop that he'd been scrubbing. He had a frantic look in his red eyes, and his hair was a mess. He hadn't heard her come in.

The call either went really well or really horribly, but she was too confused to figure out which. When she said his name, he jumped a little bit, like a cat that had been snuck up on, his cigarette dropping onto the countertop.

"Jesus, baby," he said, turning to her. "You scared the hell out of me!"

She just kept staring at him.

"I scared you? What the hell is going on here? Ya look like a crazy person."

He looked down at himself, now realized what he must have looked like to her. He tried to smile to break the tension , but it ended up making him look almost deranged.

"Well." he started as he put the sponge and spray bottle down. "I've got some good news and some bad news."

He picked up his cigarette and tossed it out of the open kitchen window.

"The good news is that I managed to get ahold of my parents, and I told them about you and PJ."

She looked worried.

"And the bad news?"

"The bad news is that, instead of reacting to the news like normal people and either being angry or happy, my mom told me that they were going to be here to see us in two days."

He started laughing. Saying out loud made it seem even crazier.

She shook her head.

"That's a little insane, Paul," she said, bewildered.

He laughed even more.

"Well, I told you they were a little insane. That doesn't change the fact that they're coming soon, and knowing my mother, if this place isn't perfect when they get here, then we can kiss their help goodbye."

She was having trouble taking everything in.

"That doesn't make any sense," she said, her twang increasing. "If anything, wouldn't we want the house to be dirtier so they'd feel bad for us and want to help us?"

He just shook his head.

"Maybe that's how normal people operate, I'm sure, but like I said, my parents aren't normal. They are the, "People who want help should learn to help themselves first" types, and if they decide that we aren't providing a clean and safe environment for the baby, they might cut us off on the spot."

She couldn't believe it. She figured it must have been how he felt when he was going to meet her mom for the first time. She didn't know what to think. As far as she was concerned, they had a perfectly clean and safe place for PJ.

She asked the only question that came to mind.

"What can I do to help?"

He looked to her, then the baby.

"Nothing, at least not now. Take the baby and put him to bed; just keep him away from here. I don't want him getting sick from all of this shit in the air. I need you to take him to base with you again tomorrow too, so I can finish up."

She silently nodded and walked away, before stopping in the hallway and turning back to him. She'd never seen Paul act like that before. Usually he was the coolest guy in the room, or at least pretending to be, but he wasn't hiding his anxiety anymore. It must have been serious.

"Are you gonna be okay, honey?"

He gave her the straightest face that he could.

"Of course. Well, probably. It all depends on how this goes. I still have a lot to do though, so can you take him out of here?"

She agreed, and he blew her a kiss, getting back to work and lighting another cigarette. He had to go as fast as he could, and he couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

The next two days went by faster than he'd wanted, but by the time Saturday morning came, their apartment and car were both spotless. He even laid out cockroach and spider traps in every corner of the place. He worked hard, and barely slept, but they place was ready. He joked with Ruby that they could eat a full-course meal off of the underside of the toilet seat if they wanted to. It was hard work, but he knew it would be worth it.

On the drive to the airport, they were both a bundle of nerves. Ruby could see that Pual was starting to spiral from the moment they got up. Every little inconvenience from the moment their heads left the pillows had made him outwardly freak out, and she had to try and keep a lid on it, while also making sure that her new in-laws liked her. She had faith that they would be fine.

Paul wasn't so sure. His lack of sleep, mixed with all of the stress he'd been feeling over the previous few days, he managed to convince himself that his parents would find fault with their place immediately, and things would be fucked before they ever left the starting gate.

Ruby could see this in his eyes, and put her hand over his.

"I'm sure everything's gonna be fine, sweetie."

He hoped so, but he genuinely didn't know. He hated things that he couldn't control, or at least have some influence over. When it came to his parents, it was a crapshoot. He thought that he knew exactly what to say and do, but the more that time went on, the less sure he became

By the time that they arrived at Lawton Regional Airport, he had gotten so worked up that his mind had almost crossed over into not caring at all about the situation. If he was destined to fail, why get so worked up about it? He was already at the Acceptance stage. They pulled up and found the gate pretty easily.

Ruby had splurged and bought a stroller so she didn't have to carry PJ around at the airport, and as they sat and waited, they heard the announcement that the plane had arrived. Paul could feel the little hairs on his neck standing at attention.

"Someone just walked over my grave." He muttered under his breath.

Then, as the Arrivals hall started to fill up, he saw them. His father was first. He looked almost the same as he did before, but his beer belly had become much more pronounced, and the little hair that still stuck to his head had already started turning grey.

His mother was next. She had actually gone through quite a bit of a physical transformation. She looked much slimmer, and her 60s bob had been replaced by a very 90s pixie cut. She had contracted type-one diabetes when she was only 20, and although they told her that she had five years to live at best, she was still kicking 22 years later, and it still hadn't really begun to show.

His parents started looking around, and Paul realized, with an internal grin a mile wide, that they didn't recognize him; the dumpy kid with the bowl cut was long gone, and they didn't know what to look for.

He waved to them, and his mother noticed. She made a beeline to the, dragging Frank and their bags behind her. She was a woman on a mission, determined to get justice. She walked straight up to him, almost pushing Ruby aside, and slapped him hard across the face.

The slap echoed in the hallway, and some people turned to look at them. He recoiled away from her and heard a small, surprised squeak from Ruby, who was now standing behind him.

"Jesus Christ mom!" he said, trying not to yell but still raising his voice.

She had a look of pure fury in her eyes.

"How dare you not tell me that you were married and already had a son!" she yelled. "You have no idea how furious I am!"

She had raised her hand to slap him again, but Frank stepped in, wrapping his large hand around her wrist.

"Calm down, Lynn. You're making a scene."

She ripped her hand away from his grip and a deadly look at him.

"Do you think I care about a scene, Frank? He hasn't called in half of a goddamn decade, and now we find out that not only is he married, but we're grandparents! How am I not expected to make a scene?"

He returned a stern stare of his own.

"Just don't do it here. Look at his wife; you're embarrassing the poor girl. Is this the kind of first impression you were hoping to make?"

She moved her eyes away from Paul to Ruby, who was now almost cowering behind him. To Lynn, it was fear, but Ruby was actually furious. She'd never heard anything good about either of them from Paul, but she wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. She now saw exactly what he meant, and was trying her best to not overstep her boundaries by saying something.

Lynn's eyes moved from Ruby down to the stroller, where she spotted PJ, sleeping soundly. Paul saw the fire in her eyes die out, and smile start to spread across her face. She pushed past him and went straight to the stroller.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, reaching in and picking up the baby. Ruby prepared herself for the wailing that she was getting used to when PJ woke up, but nothing came.

Lynn looked to Ruby.

"What's his name, dear?"

Ruby tried to speak up, but couldn't find her voice.

She coughed.

"His name's Paul Junior, we call him PJ."

Her accent was coming on strong, as it always did when she was angry or nervous.

She could see the smile widen as Lynn stared at the baby, any hate or anger she had before had evaporated.

"Little PJ. What a beautiful boy."

Frank walked up to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She had tears in her eyes, and Paul could have sworn he saw some starting to build in his father's as well.

"Can you believe it, Frank?" she asked, holding the baby close. "We're grandparents."

She started to blubber a bit and put PJ back in the stroller.

Frank pulled her into a hug as she started to full-on cry.

"I know, sweetie," he said. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it? Let's get out of here, okay."

She just nodded, and they walked out to the rental area. They decided to rent a car for themselves so they didn't have to rely on Paul or Ruby to take them around. As soon as they made it out of the door to start putting their luggage in the car, Lynn started again.

"Dear lord, Paulie!" she exclaimed, putting a hand on her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun.

"How can you live somewhere like this? Can this heat and humidity even be safe for the baby?"

Frank shook his head. "People can live just about everywhere in the world. It is a bit hot for my tastes though, that's for sure."

They both got in the car and followed them for the hour drive back to their apartment.

Paul was stunned for most of the trip back. It wasn't the slap. That might have been surprising in the moment, but he really should have seen it coming. The thing that had him feeling off was Frank. No berating? No insults? Docile, calm and rational? Who was this man and what did he do with Frank Schimon?

Maybe it was just a ruse. That had to be it. He was waiting until he got Paul away from Ruby and the baby, then he would really lay into him. He just didn't want to look bad in front of his new daughter-in-law. He'd even said something about first impressions. That had to be it, there was no other logical explanation.

He looked over at Ruby.

"See what I mean," he started. "That's just the tip of the iceberg, too. We are going to be in for it, I just know it."

She shook her head. "That was unbelievable. I think you could hear that smack all the way out the front doors. It was like somethin' out of a movie. Your mom's sure got a temper on her."

He chuckled. "Trust me, what you saw was nothing compared to my dad."

"Hmm." She said. "He seemed pretty relaxed actually."

He shivered a bit at that. "I know. I don't think we've seen the worst of it yet."

She put her hand over the one he had on the center console.

"I'm sure we'll get through it, Paulie, one way or another."

He gave her the same smile he had given her mother when they first met, and hoped she bought it. He wasn't convinced that things would be fine at all. In fact, he was sure that they were about as far away from being fine as they possibly could get.

Despite that, he actually managed to relax for almost the rest of the drive home. When they arrived, PJ was asleep again, having only had a few fussy moments on the ride. They pulled into the driveway of their apartment complex, with his parents just behind him. They parked up alongside them, and turned their car off.

When his mom got out she put her hands on her head again, trying to make a visor from the sun.

"So," she said, looking up at the apartment with a visible, to him at least, look of disgust on her face. "This is it, huh?"

He didn't even bother looking at her as he reached for his keys and went up to the door.

"Yep. Home, sweet home."

They all stepped inside, and for the first few seconds, no one said anything. Finally his father broke the silence.

"Nice place you got here," he said as he surveyed the living room.

He was waiting for his mom to say something about it, but she remained silent. He started to get nervous. When would the other shoe drop?

Ruby stepped in then.

"Can I get anyone anything to drink? I was actually about to start cooking something up for us for lunch too, if y'all are hungry."

They all looked at her.

"That would be lovely, dear," Lynn said. "Let me help you with that."

She followed Ruby into the kitchen.

Paul looked at his father and for a few seconds, and, without a word, they both took a seat on the couch.

"So," Paul started.

"So?"

Paul knew he would have to make the first move.

"Listen, Dad, I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you about this. To be honest, I don't even know why I kept putting it off. The more that time passed, the harder it was to reach out."

Paul's father gave him a kind smile.

"They call that a guilt-spiral. My therapist told me about it. You start feeling bad about not doing something, or doing something wrong, but are ashamed to make it right. Then, the more time passes, the more that shame and guilt builds. It happens to a lot of people. Don't worry about any of that. I'm just glad you called me when you did. "

Paul was shocked, almost sitting slack jawed. This was wrong; unnatural even. He had to get to the bottom of it.

"Your therapist? What is happening here? Is everything okay? Are you sick or something?"

His father chuckled, and put one of his large hands on Paul's shoulder.

"Well," he started, seeming unsure of where to go.

"I've been hoping you would call us for a long time. I've wanted to apologize for how horrible I was when you were coming up. I figured that you just didn't want to talk to us after everything we put you through. I thought for a while that we might never see you again, and I think that we may deserve that."

Punch-out. He was seeing stars. Was this some sort of bizarre fever dream? Was he dying? Too much to process, not enough information to go off of. Then, the unthinkable happened. Frank Schimon, who once literally uttered the words, "Man up, tears are for queers," to Paul when they had to put down his dog after it got hit by a car, started bawling.

It was so wrong that Paul honestly didn't know what to do, so he just ended up giving his father an awkward hug and pat him on the back until he calmed down.

"What brought all this on?" Paul asked after the embrace ended.

Frank fixed his eyes straight on the floor.

"There was an accident in the mine down in St. George about nine months ago. I was checking one of the shafts with a couple of local workers; we were looking for a pressure crack that was forming along one of the ore veins we were working on when the ground started to shake. I remember looking at the other two guys with me. We all knew what was coming, but no one did anything. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital almost three weeks later."

"Oh my god, Dad," Paul said. "Are you okay?"

Paul's father rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a deep scar that ran from just below his elbow all the way up to his shoulder. It looked like it had barely finished healing.

Paul looked at it in horror as his father continued.

"That's not even the worst of it though. You should see my chest."

He pointed to the top row of his teeth. "These are fake too. They don't look too bad though, I think."

He paused, looking from the floor to Paul.

"They said I was trapped under there for something like 16 hours, but I don't remember any of it. They told me that the other two guys died. One went right away when the roof collapsed. The other one went a couple days later at the hospital, right across from me. They were convinced that I was gonna be a goner too. I guess it was just the grace of god that got me out of it."

Paul was still stunned, he had no idea where to even start, but Frank didn't give him any time to think before continuing.

"When I woke up and saw everyone standing around me, the first thing that I noticed was that you and Janice weren't there, and it all hit me at once. I finally saw just how much I'd pushed you both away. I don't know what I was thinking. I figured being tough would make you a better person, but really I was just angry that you didn't want to follow in my footsteps."

He stopped and took a deep breath.

"No. No that's not the truth. I was stuck on my path and I never had a choice. If you think I was tough, you should thank your lucky stars you never met your Grandpa Dixon. He was as mean as a badger with half the patience, and he beat my dreams out of me and my brothers before I was even a teenager. I never had a choice, and you did, and it made me feel like a failure. I hate myself for not realizing any of it sooner. I'm so sorry.

Tears were starting to flow again. There was no way any of this was real. How could it be? There was no ulterior motive; no private berating and shaming waiting for him. Frank was actually apologizing. Not only that, but he looked like he meant every single word. Paul felt like he was the first person to discover fire. There was no precedent for this.

And as if all of that wasn't enough, Frank brought it all home like a knife, straight into Paul's heart.

"I just hope you can forgive me, even if it takes the rest of my life."

There was something about the desperation in his voice that made the pieces finally fall into place. Those words were what he'd always wanted to hear. For a time, he would have killed just to get a sliver of his father's approval or acceptance, and now he had it all. What would he do with it? It was a nice speech and all, but that doesn't erase two decades of history. But sitting there, staring at this seemingly broken man, he knew he couldn't turn him away.

"Of course I forgive you, dad; I love you."

A few tears of his own fell. He couldn' t think of the last time he'd even told Frank that he loved him. He must have been five or six, maybe ten at the oldest.

His father sniffled, wiping the tears out of his eyes.

"So," he started. "Why don't you tell me about this new life of yours? It's think it's more than time that we catch up."

Paul nodded.

"It's been too long."

He started from the beginning, back to basic training and his life in Korea and Honduras. The more he talked, the more he felt like a weight was slowly lifting from his chest. He was actually starting to feel happy, and the more he caught up with Frank, the happier he felt. Was this what fatherly connection was like? He was almost angry at Frank again for making him miss out on this for so many years, but he tried his best to just let it all go.

While Paul and Frank finally had their nice talk, Ruby and Lynn were busy in the kitchen. Lynn was showing Ruby how to make spinach rolls, which was apparently a family recipe that had been passed down since her great grandparents had immigrated from Denmark. She wasn't sure who exactly it wanted to eat cold spinach, sour cream and cheese wrapped up in a cold tortilla, but she was happy that they could do something together.

Ruby was still deciding what to make of Lynn. After the initial shock of the airport slap wore off, she decided that it wasn't that far-fetched to imagine a mother reacting that way after going so long with no contact. She knew that she would never get the full picture out of just a few days together, so she wanted to find out as much as she could while she had the chance.

Lynn did have a flair for the dramatic, with all the comments about the heat, the length of the flight, or the nosy bitch in 27C who kept blasting her with her reading light. Despite that, it didn't seem as over the top as Paul had so frequently told her. She wanted to trust him, especially after how angry she was at him after he didn't believe her about her mother, but things weren't matching up yet. More research needed to be done.

Ruby finished rolling up the last of the rolls, and she had actually managed to do a pretty good job on the last few after she got a feel for how it was done. She tasted one, and the questions she had about who would want to eat such a thing went out of her mind instantly. Somehow, they were absolutely delicious.

"Wow," She said earnestly. "These are really good. Thanks for teaching me."

She finished with a smile.

Lynn smiled back, although it gave off a bit of a weird vibe. It was something that Ruby was just starting to notice about Lynn. She just seemed a little...fake. There was really no other way to put it. Ruby watched the way she carried herself and the way that she spoke, and it all seemed to be put on, almost like a show to whoever might be watching. For what reason, Ruby certainly didn't know. The woman she saw at the airport was real. There was nothing fake about that hit or her rage.

Lynn interrupted her train of thought. "Your accent is just adorable, dear. Where exactly are you from?"

Adorable? She didn't know whether to find that endearing or offensive, but she rolled with it.

"I'm from Texas. Northeast Texas to be more specific." She actively tried to suppress her twang, but was having a hard time.

"That's wonderful," Lynn said. "I've always wanted to go to Texas; never had the time though."

Ruby chuckled. "I don't think you'd wanna go to ya neck of the woods, unless ya like poverty and marshes."

Lynn stared at her.

"So your family isn't well off, then?" She asked, almost sounding confused.

Ruby laughed without realizing, then politely cleared her throat.

"I would say well off is a pretty far cry from what they are."

Lynn continued to stare, and Ruby was almost sure that she didn't even blink once.

"Well, that's unfortunate to hear, dear. We're no strangers to money problems ourselves, you know. It's a tough world out there."

Ruby nodded. "A really tough world. I just hope that we can make a good life for little PJ."

"I'm sure you will both be just fine. Despite my sons…reliability issues with us, I'm sure he's more than capable of taking care of you and that beautiful baby boy of yours." Lynn said as she started chopping the rolls and putting the pieces onto a plate.

Ruby picked up on a tone in her voice. It wasn't sarcasm, but it was in the same neighborhood.

"I'm sure he'll figure something out. I believe in him. You should have seen him in the service. He was always at the top of his squad. He's a smart man, a little disorganized sometimes, sure, but that's nothin' I can't handle. That's what he's got me for. I'm the one there to crack the whip."

She chuckled a bit, and Lynn returned with an obviously fake chuckle of her own.

"I'm sure you are. That's always what women do best, isn't it? My mother always told me that behind every good man, was a strong woman. You seem to be one of them, just like me."

They both laughed together as they brought out the rolls to the men, who were just getting to Paul's time in the delivery room. They put the plate down and cracked open a few beers. Ruby sat next to Paul and Lynn next to Frank. Paul took a roll from the plate and ate it.

"Wow. It's been too long since I've had one of these. They always were my favorite."

Lynn smiled at him, this time it seemed a little bit more genuine to Ruby.

"You can thank your little wifey for that. She made this batch all by herself. I just showed her how."

He moved his head over and kissed Ruby on the cheek, leaving a little sour cream behind.

"Thank you, baby," he said as he ate another piece.

"It's no problem, dear," she said, almost cringing at the fact that she had said the word "dear". Lynn was already rubbing off on her. "Your ma is the mastermind. I just put the pieces together."

Frank cut in. "I'm sure you both did equal parts; either way, it seems like you learn pretty fast. These are damned tasty."

Lynn smiled, another fake one. "It seems like you boys have been getting on pretty well. Did you say what you needed to say?"

Frank looked at Paul. "I think we just about covered everything."

"So," Lynn started. "He told you about the accident then, Paulie?"

"Accident?" Ruby asked.

Before Frank had a chance to give an explanation, Lynn took the reigns.

"Oh, it was terrible. The mine collapsed on him. I almost had a damned heart attack when they called me! They hadn't even pulled him out of the rubble yet. I rushed straight to the mine and followed them all the way to the hospital. I cried and prayed every single day that he was in there, until he finally woke up. I thought we were going to lose him."

She started to cry, and Frank pulled her into a hug.

"It's okay, honey. I'm fine now. Everything is fine."

"It's not fine," She said, sniffling.

"None of this is fine. You were lucky to be alive."

She pointed at Paul.

"And you weren't even there! We had no way to even get you on the phone to let you know what happened. If you had called us sometime in the last five years, we could have at least reached out. Then we come to find out, after everything you're father went through, that you have a new wife and baby!"

Her yelling raised little PJ from his slumber, and Ruby quickly broke away to take care of it. She didn't want to leave Paul to the wolves, but she was not about to insert herself in the middle of all that.

Lynn barely noticed, she was fixed on Paul and the fire in her eyes was spreading again.

"How dare you do that to us! Have you no shame? Do you even realize what you put us through? God only knows what finally provoked you to call us in the first place. It was probably for some selfish reason or another, not to ask how we were doing! You never changed Paul. You didn't care about us when you before, and you don't care about us now!"

She started sobbing and Frank once again pulled her into a hug. Paul was beside himself. He'd never seen his mother that angry before. Usually she would just complain, or maybe occasionally cry, but he had never seen her so full of rage until that moment.

The worst part was that she actually had a point. He did just sort of leave them behind. They weren't good parents, he figured that entitled him to go his own way. Seeing what it did to his mother made him start to reconsider. Maybe it was wrong to abandon family, no matter how terrible they were. At the end of the day, he doubted that they would have just abandoned him, no matter what he did.

"I don't even know what to say," he started. "I'm sorry, mom. I was stupid, I don't know what I was thinking."

Frank looked up from his crying wife at him.

"Don't worry, Paulie. She doesn't mean it. She's just been a little emotional since the accident. Just give her some time to adjust."

She piped up from under his arm.

"Like hell I don't mean it! You know what you did, Paul, and you know that you should feel bad about it. I'm not the one who needs time. You need time to think about what you've done. You're lucky that you have that precious baby boy, or I don't know if I would have ever spoken to you again after what you pulled."

She continued sobbing. Frank stood up, with her almost hanging onto him. He looked to Paul and then to Ruby, who had just come back into the living room.

"I'm gonna take her to the hotel. We had a long flight and could use some rest. We're at the Best Western in town. I saw it when we drove in, so I'm pretty sure I can find my way back there. You should stop by later this evening. I've still got some things I want to talk to you about. Maybe we can all have dinner together."

Paul agreed, and his parents left. He sat down on the couch and lit a cigarette as Ruby plopped down next to him. They were both shell-shocked.

"What the hell happened back there?" Ruby asked.

He took a long drag.

"I think that was my mom, pushed all the way to her limits. I've never seen her like that before. Honestly, it's probably my fault. I mean, I probably could have found the time to give them at least one call, right? Even if it was just to let them know that I wasn't dead. I just hated them so much when I left that I thought they didn't care what happened to me. It was pretty selfish, I guess."

She nodded. "I know how ya feel. After all my ma put me through, I honestly never planned on talking to her again until you made me. I'm glad I did now, though. I can't imagine seeing her like this. She would probably have done a lot more than slap me. Or, maybe she wouldn't, now that I can actually hit back. Anyway, your dad seemed okay at least."

He sat back and blew smoke into the air.

"Yeah, that was really strange too. He actually apologized to me for everything he did back then. I swear, Ruby, I would have never expected any kind of humility from that man as long as I lived, but that accident must have changed him."

"It sounded pretty bad. He didn't look too bad, though."

"You didn't see his arms," he said with a shudder. "They looked like they were barely stitched back together. He said his chest was even worse. Hell, even half of his teeth are fake now."

"Good god," she said. "Sounds like he's really lucky to be alive. That's probably what made him come around. It's just too bad it took something like that to make him do it."

He nodded.

"At least something snapped him out of his old ways, I guess. I'm gonna go and meet him by myself later, if you don't mind. I don't think dinner will be an option. My mom definitely needs more time. I'm going to ask him how he would feel about us coming out there and staying. If you don't like it there, I'm sure we could find somewhere else."

She agreed, and went to check on PJ. Paul put his cigarette out and started putting the dishes away, eating a few of the rolls and wrapping up the rest for later. His mom always had made a mean spinach roll, and now Ruby knew how to make them too. Sometimes it was nice to appreciate the little victories.

With everything finally put away, he decided to take a nap. They'd been up since just after five in the morning, and he needed to rest up. He sat on the couch and closed his eyes, actually feeling good about the night ahead.

Before they came, he gave himself a twenty percent chance at convincing them to let him come back. The words his father told him the last time he'd spoken before then would echo in his mind.

"Just know, that if you can't cut it there, there isn't going to be anywhere to come back to. It's time to move on."

Now, he didn't think there'd be any way he could fail. His mom would be a small obstacle, but he saw the look she gave PJ. There was no way she'd let that baby stay in those conditions for long. She could try and get custody, but there's no way she was interested in raising another child. He finally thought himself to sleep, like he did on many nights, but this time, it was the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

Ruby shook him awake at around seven, and he went straight to the hotel. He saw his father checking out brochures in the lobby on his way in. They shared a quick hug; something that was almost totally foriegn to both of them, and sat on the couch in the lounge.

"Sorry about the scene at the house."

Paul shook his head. "It's not a problem. It was my fault, really. I know it's an emotional time with the accident, and all this on top isn't making anything better. Where's Mom? "

"She's upstairs, resting. She'll be back to her old self by tomorrow. Maybe she'll be mad at you for a while, but I'm sure it will pass. You are her son, after all. She can't stay mad forever, right?."

He took a deep breath. "Now that we've got that settled, there's something I need to ask you. How exactly do you plan on providing for your boy? Mom said that you were off active duty. Do you plan on re-enlisting?"

This was it. Despite how relaxed he had been, he still needed to choose his words carefully.

"I don't think so. I've given it a lot of thought, and I just don't think it's the right place for me. I make okay money, but it's not good enough. I want something more, and not just for me; for my family, all of us."

There was a pause as Frank nodded slowly.

"Well, I know I've made the offer time and again, but I think this time it might be worth considering. Why don't you come back home and work in the mine with me. I know it's tough, but once you make your way into management, it's an easy gig, and it pays well. It's enough to make a decent living for you and your family. If nothing else, you could work there until you find something better, what do you say?"

There it was. His father had made the offer before he'd even had to ask. But he couldn't work at the mines. He was meant to work with his mind, not with his hands. Besides, the mines were a literal pit. Once he got in, he would never be able to get out.

As he sat thinking about all of this, he realized that it had been at least ten seconds since he'd said anything. He cleared his throat.

"I would love to come back. Honestly, I hate it out here, and Texas is worse. Now that I'm out, Uncle Sam's got my education covered. I was thinking about Law School. Lawyers do pretty well, and they're well respected. I think I'd be good at it."

Frank laughed.

"You sure did always love to argue, maybe that would be the best place for you. So, what do you say? Will you come home?"

Paul nodded.

"I need to talk with Ruby about it, and it'll take some time, or it might just be PJ and me for awhile. She's still got almost nine months before she's off active duty, and she hasn't decided if she'll reeinlest yet. I'll let you know before you head home."

His father smiled, and there were tears again.

"That sounds great, son."

He shook Paul's hand firmly.

"I just want you to know, whatever you decide to do, I'm proud of you. Forget what I said before. Just do what's best for your wife and the boy, and we'll be good."

They had one last hug, and Paul considered checking in with his mother, before deciding to just head home. He walked out of the hotel with a new-found purpose. His father had given him the confidence boost he needed to set things off. He couldn't wait to share the news with Ruby.

They spent the rest of the weekend together; thankfully without issue, as Lynn was too focused on PJ. There was a small part of Paul that couldn't help but resent that. Lynn as a grandmother was an entirely different animal, and he doubted that he ever got twice the adoration that his own baby was getting.

They capped off the weekend by taking a Sunday drive up to the Witchita Mountains and having a picnic just off one of the trails. Ruby spent most of her time trying to get to know Frank. She heard a few stories about Paul's childhood. Most of them were wrapped in a thin layer of regret or sadness, but she still learned a lot.

When it was all over, Paul offered to take them back to the airport, but they waved him away. After finally saying their goodbyes, Paul let Frank know that he would have an answer soon, and hopefully they would be back in Montana before the year was over. He had been thinking more and more about the prospect of going to law school, and it was starting to seem like a solid plan.

There was good money to be made, and he would probably be good at it. Uncle Sam wouldn't cover everything, but it would hopefully be enough. Law school could get really expensive, depending on where he went, and he wasn't exactly a prime candidate. Twenty six was a little old to be starting as a Freshman, and he would have to spend a lot of time away from his family.

Still though, it was probably the best option that he had, if he wanted to be successful. And, as a bonus, as a lawyer, he could live pretty much wherever he wanted. There was just one issue: the location of the school itself. The closest law school that wasn't a joke would be a fair distance away from Mountain West, which meant they would have to support themselves in a larger city, which of course meant that they needed to make more money. Paul could find a job, but what about Ruby? The only answer, at least in his mind, was that she would have to reenlist. It would be a tough sell, but he had to try.

He had decided to take Ruby out to lunch the weekend after his parents went home. He picked The Golden Oak; a nice, but not too expensive restaurant on the North side of town. It was where they had their first official date. The location worked for him two ways. She liked the food, which would put her in a good mood, and the place was always slammed, so if things went badly, she probably wouldn't cause a scene in such a public place.

Their meal was going well enough. Paul got the New York Strip, which he thought was a little overcooked, but not bad, and Ruby ordered fried Cod and coleslaw, which she seemed happy with. As dinner was winding down, Paul ordered a bottle of wine to celebrate successfully navigating the landmine that was his parents visit. After they were a few drinks in, he decided it was time to bring it up.

"So," he started, cutting a piece from the last remaining part of his steak. "What if I went to law school?"

She gave him a quizzical look.

"Law school? Since when was that something that you wanted to do?"

He shrugged and ate his piece of steak.

"I don't know. I mean, I did really well in debate in school, so it seemed like something that I would be good at. Also, if I can get the right gig, we can make a ton of money; more than enough to provide for our family for the rest of our lives.

She nodded, taking it all in.

"Okay. Are there any schools near where your parents live?"

It was now or never.

"That's the thing. The closest one, or, well, at least the closest one that employers will take seriously is in Seattle. It's maybe seven or eight hours West by car. That's actually something I wanted to talk to you about."

She stared at him, and he cleared his throat before continuing carefully.

"How would you feel about reenlisting? If you can get a base near a big city then I could go to school there, and everything would work out perfectly."

She put her fork down onto the plate plate very deliberately, and then returned her gaze to him.

"Are you serious? You know that I don't want to spend any more time here than I have to, and I haven't been overseas yet. They'll probably ship me to Korea or Germany as soon as I sign the contract, and that would be for at least a year. Why would I want to do that?"

He put his hand over hers and stared deep into her eyes.

"Just think about it this way, baby. If I can get into a good school, we'll be set up in only a few years. I can make enough that you'd never have to worry about anything again. Wouldn't that be great?"

She pulled her hand out from under his.

"Do you really think that I want to spend an entire year away from you and mah boy, just so you can maybe have a chance to possibly get into a law school? Did you hit your head on the way in here or something?"

The small smile he had been wearing quickly turned into a frown. This wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.

"Ruby, please, it's not like that. PJ and I can go with you wherever you go. I spent a year in Korea myself, and it was a pretty nice place. I'm sure Germany is fine too. Maybe it would be good for us to get away for awhile."

She wasn't buying it.

"And if I get sent off to fight now that I've had the baby? What then? Do you really want me out there in the desert, worrying every day whether or not I'm gonna even be able to make it back home? Isn't that why we got married in the first damn place? And, aside from all of that, do you really want to raise a baby in a country where neither of us even speaks the language?"

He hadn't really considered her going off to fight, but it's not like she'd be out on the frontlines. Women almost never had an active combat role in any military situation, unless the base itself was under attack. Ruby worked in the motor pool, and would probably spend most of her day sitting behind a desk and directing convoys, whether it was in Kuwait, Incheon or Berlin.

"I'm sure it won't be that serious, and it'll all be worth it in the end, right? I mean, we can really make a good life together if I can get into this."

His defense was starting to falter.

"Are you kidding me?" Her twang was starting to increase; a sign to Paul that he was about to be swimming in dangerous waters. Maybe it was time to pull the plug, regroup and attack again later from a different angle. She didn't give him a chance.

"Are you actually suggesting that possibly going to war, and spending at least a year away from my baby would actually be a good idea? Have you lost your mind?"

The distant early warning system flared to life, with sirens blaring. Abort! Abort! Situation is FUBAR; disengage immediately!

"Forget I said anything about it. It was just a thought I had."

It wasn't working, and he could see her anger rising. Why couldn't she understand? It was the best shot they had. Maybe she would have to spend a little extra time away from the family, but it's not like she'd be the only one making sacrifices. It would be hard on both of them, but it had to be done.

Her eyes were fixed on him, and she was getting angrier by the second.

"Well, that's all it better be, because I ain't reenlisting, I ain't going to Germany or Korea, and I sure as hell ain't busting my ass halfway across the globe to go fight in some desert just so you might have a chance to get into a better school!"

By the time she'd finished, she was close to flat-out yelling, and some of the other restaurant patrons were looking at them. The entire thing had backfired, and he knew it. She stood up and walked out without saying another word.

He sat alone, thinking that if he couldn't manage to convince his wife to do something for their family's sake, then maybe he wasn't as cut out to be a lawyer as he thought. He may not have always had the right words to say, but he was persistent. He'd give her a chance to calm down; maybe a few days or so, and then try again. He was convinced he knew what was best for them, even if she didn't realize it yet.

He finished his glass of wine, then Ruby's, and then left a fifty dollar bill on the table and walked out to Ruby. She was already waiting in the car and had the radio turned almost all the way up. He could tell by her crossed arms and the frown plastered on her face that she was still fuming, so he put on his best unassuming smile and got in the car alongside her.

He knew better than to say anything as they drove back to the apartment. He spent the ride thinking of a way to make things right; maybe a nice apology dinner or something like that. Then he could bide his time and plan his next approach.

As the day went on, he tried to stay out of sight and do everything around the apartment that he'd promised to do before, but hadn't gotten around to. That evening, he tried his hand at her favorite dish: country-style meatloaf. He hated the stuff, and thought it was akin to eating meat flavored bread that had been sitting out for too long, so he couldn't tell if what he'd made was actually any good or not.

They sat down at the table that he had prepared for them, and he brought out the meatloaf, hoping for the best. She had a smile on her face, and it actually looked genuine. Whether it was from the meatloaf itself, or just the fact that he was doing something nice for her, he didn't know, but it was better than the open rage she'd shown on her face before.

He sat down across from her, watching her take the first bite. She smiled again. This one was a little bit less genuine. Maybe his inexperience with what a proper meatloaf should taste like had shown through in his cooking. There was no better way to find out than to ask.

"How is it?"

He looked at her with a slightly cocked head, waiting for a response.

She chewed slowly and finally swallowed. "

Ya haven't made this much before, have ya?" she asked.

Damn.

"Maybe," he started. "Everyone has to start somewhere, right?"

That would hopefully be good enough to forgive the poorly done attempt.

She took another bite; a good sign.

"I suppose so," she said slowly after another swallow. "It's really not all that bad, just a little dry. Ya gotta learn how to keep the juices in. I can show ya how sometime."

She seemed to be in better spirits, if only on the surface. While Paul hadn't known her for all that long (a fact that still made him cringe a little bit sometimes), he was pretty sure that she wasn't the type to hold a grudge. He figured if he could just keep things cool for another week or so, he would be ready to try again.

She took a final, deliberate bite, then put her fork down. She swallowed and cleared her throat.

"I know why yer doing this, ya know."

"What do you mean?" he asked in as sweet of a voice as he could muster. "Can't I do something nice for you and say sorry at the same time?"

She continued to stare at him. "Come on, Paul. I know ya better than that. Yer tryin' to make me feel better so you can bring up me reenlisting again. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I know you ain't done with the idea. That would be the normal thing to do, but I know how ya operate. Once ya get something goin in that head of yers, it's almost impossible to pump the breaks."

Of course he should have seen that coming. He had just finished pulling off the exact same thing on a larger scale when his parents came to town, and she was an active part of it. Still though, he was surprised by how quickly she saw through the ruse. He didn't know whether to be impressed or worried, but left it up to another time to decide, because Ruby started talking again.

"I've given it some thought," she said, using a paper towel to wipe some ketchup from her mouth.

"Maybe I went a little overboard by completely shutting you down before, so I've made a decision. Go back to Montana with PJ and get things set up. I'll stick it out here and see if I can handle spending time away from y'all. If I can manage it, then maybe, and I really can't stress this word enough, maybe I'll consider signing up again. That is a Texas-sized if though, and I need you to understand that. Don't get yer hopes up."

He nodded, taking it all in. It was a fair proposal, if a little risky. She'd been practically attached at the hip to PJ since he was born; no surprise, but still potentially volatile. He loved the kid, sure, but he was almost certainly going to grow up to be a mama's boy. As he continued to play the odds in his head, he realized, once again, that he had been sitting for some time, not saying a word. She was still staring at him, no doubt expecting a response.

"Well," he started, trying to buy some time. He figured the right thing to do would be to admit defeat, at least for now. "If that's the best I'm going to get, then so be it, I guess. I know that you'll see with time that it's what's best, so do what you need to do."

That was the right answer, or at least a good enough one. Maybe she was playing him just like he'd try to play her. Maybe she never planned on reenlisting, and this was just a ploy so that later she could pretend that she'd given Paul a chance when she eventually told him no. Who knew for sure? It made him angry, probably more angry than it should have, but it wasn't worth getting into a fight over, especially since they were about to be spending so long apart. He just had to focus on moving forward.

"I'm glad ta hear ya say that," she said, "and who knows, maybe I'll love the time alone and join up again without a second thought, but I think pigs'll sprout wings before that. But who knows, stranger things have happened."

He cocked his head at her and she gave him a wry smile as she picked up her fork and started eating again. He just chuckled.

"Okay, smartass."

He finally took his first bite of the meatloaf. All things considered, it actually wasn't terrible. He thought that he should probably get a better recipe soon. Who knew how many times he'd be making apology meatloaf in the future.

When they were finished, he shooed her away from cleaning and took care of it himself; a little icing on the cake. When he'd finally wrapped everything up, he snuck outside to have a cigarette on the porch. He was planning on quitting, but hadn't quite gotten around to it yet. He knew it was good for the baby, but there were few things that he had all to himself, and he wasn't ready to give them all up yet.

When the meal was done he put the plate away and cleaned everything up and then snuck outside to have a cigarette. He was planning on quitting eventually, especially because he didn't like the stale smell of smoke around the house, or around PJ. But quitting anything was never easy, and he cheated from time to time when he thought he needed it.

As he sat and smoked, he thought about Montana. How much had things changed since he'd been gone? How much would change after he got back? He couldn't imagine it had gotten any larger. When he was born, there were around eight thousand people in the valley. By the time he left, most of the mines had already closed after the bottom dropped out of the silver market in the mid 80s, and there were maybe five thousand or so still around, and many of them were old people. Losing the mines weren't the only thing that drove people away, though.

Most people who live in a small town are either there because they have a specific reason to be, or because they don't have anywhere else they can be. Most of the kids in his generation left the area for college, with many leaving the entire state. Some left for the Army like he did, while some just went out West like back in the 19th century, looking for a place where they could start over and be whoever they wanted to.

It was for the best, if for nothing else than the fact that many of the people he'd grown up with wouldn't be around to see him come back with his tail between his legs. Before he left, he mentioned to just about anyone who would listen that he was going to make something of himself in the big bad world out there. He made such a grand gesture about leaving the little town and all of the little people behind, that he was sure he'd burned more than a few bridges. He hoped that, at worst, he'd be left to have an awkward conversation here and there at the grocery store or laundromat about how things just hadn't lined up for him yet.

He sat back, picturing the place in his mind. Flashes of dilapidated and boarded-up buildings like those he'd seen in Ruby's hometown came to mind. Like somehow, everything had gone from bad to shit in the years he'd been away. It was kind of a scary thought, but not as scary as the likely reality that everything was exactly how Paul had left it.

That thought seemed much worse than any alternative. Everything the same. It would be bland, boring and full of small-minded rubes who couldn't escape their small-minded settings. They were shells of people with nowhere better to go, who always lived off just the essentials and nothing more.

That wasn't the scary part. He could handle being poor if he had to. He would be miserable, and probably curse every single day he lived like that, but he would be fine. What wouldn't be fine was the simple, undeniable fact that stared him in the face: he was going to be one of them, if only in body and not in mind, and that was bad. Even worse still though, PJ would be one of them, growing up in that desolate wasteland with his mind and talents, whatever they may be, slowly rotting away.

No, he couldn't let that happen. If his boy was anything like he was - and he hoped he was - he knew just how horrible that existence would be for him. The boy would have big ambitions, but nowhere to put them. He would be smart, but have nowhere to apply himself. He would grow bored quickly, and, more likely than not, turn to pot and booze just like he and his friends did when they were kids. There wasn't anything wrong with having a good time, at least not as far as he was concerned, but when there's never anything else to do, those things can quickly consume people. Paul was lucky to get out of it when he did, he could only imagine how much more of those things he would have been doing if he were still there.

He shuddered. He'd have to make sure he was around much more than his own father had been if they'd stuck around. It was best not to think about it. After all, if things went according to plan, they'd only spend a few months, or, god forbid, a year in Montana, then they'd be off to greener pastures. PJ wouldn't have to grow up like he did, and he wouldn't have to look like a failure in front of whatever peers may have stuck around after he left. It wouldn't be easy, but it had to be done.

He finished his cigarette and went back inside; his mind racing about everything he'd have to deal with once he'd hit the tarmac in Missoula. The only way to stop it, he decided, was to just veg-out in front of the TV for a while. He sat on the couch, lazily flipping through the channels, only partially looking for something to watch. It wasn't working. Nothing was interesting enough to draw his mind out of the anxiety pit it had been digging for itself.

He had another idea. PJ would surely do the trick. He hadn't actually spent all that much time with the boy since his birth, especially alone. It wasn't in a callous way, of course. Paul loved his son with whatever amount of love he could find to give. It was more of an issue of being...unsettled. That was the only word Paul could think to use that wouldn't make him seem like some kind of monster. Babies were just so unflinchingly fragile. Any wrong move could lead to tragedy, and for all the boasting and blustering that he'd so often done about how great he was at most things, he never pretended for even a single second to be an expert parent. There was just too much at stake.

He was afraid every time he picked his son up that he might accidentally crush his little bones with his hands alone, even though Ruby had, on many occasions, told him that nothing of the sort would happen. Now, though, he was getting ready to spend the better part of the year nearly alone with the baby, and unless he wanted to turn to his mother for help, he'd have to learn how to care for the boy.

He went to the kitchen and carefully washed his hands before heading back to the baby's room, where he could hear PJ cooing in his crib, with Ruby standing just over him, humming to him gently. He walked up to her and put an arm around her waist.

She sniffed at the air exaggeratedly, and shot a glare back at Paul.

He gave her a soft smile.

"Relax," he started. "I washed my hands before I came in."

She scoffed.

"And? Did ya wash yer clothes and body, too?"

He didn't respond.

"Didn't think so."

"Just look at him," he said, changing the topic. "We made that."

She smiled.

"Well, I mostly made him, but I guess you helped."

They shared a laugh, which made little PJ laugh. Paul looked at the baby's eyes and a switch flipped in his mind.

This is my son, he thought.

This is my legacy.

What that legacy would be, he didn't know, but he knew that he would do anything to make it a reality for PJ and Ruby. He decided, almost exactly in that moment, that everything he did going forward would only serve to better his family's future.

Ruby, for her part, had made that decision herself the day PJ was born. Funnily enough, it happened almost the same way. When that old bitter nag of a nurse handed her the baby, she got a first look at his innocent little eyes, taking in the world for the first time with wonder, and she vowed to protect that wonder and innocence for as long as she could, with everything she could.

"I think I'm ready," Paul said slowly.

"Ready?"

He looked to her.

"Yeah, ready. Ready to do...all of this."

She laughed a little bit.

"Very well spoken. Let's start small."

She gently picked PJ up from the crib and turned with him to face Paul. Paul, almost instinctively, took a step back. She raised an uncertain eyebrow to him, and he relaxed, and nearly reluctantly reached out his arms, almost like he was trying to catch a football.

She laughed again.

"Not like that, dummy. Haven't you been watching any of the stuff I've been doing?"

She used her free hand to adjust his arms in a more appropriate position, and, at a snail's pace, lowered PJ into Paul's arms. He was heavier than he looked, but the baby rested comfortably in place in his father's arms, like two pieces of a puzzle magnetically snapping together. A tingling feeling shot through Paul like a bolt of lightning. He wasn't worried about anything anymore. All of the anxiety, fear and stress he'd been holding onto washed out of his body, and was quickly replaced by something else. It was a feeling that he'd never had before, and he didn't know how to explain it. A more emotionally intelligent person would probably call it somewhere between pride or parental love, neither of which he'd ever really felt in his life.

Ruby saw her husband in a new light, as he held their fragile little creation tightly. She thought that it may have been the first time she saw her husband as he truly was. Gone was the man who told her once that the scars he had on his head were actually from saving a buddy's life, instead of forcep marks from being removed from his mother too hard. Gone was the man who had a plan for every plan, and backups for those. When it all slipped away, she just saw the man she'd come to love holding the only thing she'd ever cherished. What could be better than that?

"What do I do?" Paul asked.

Another laugh. Paul was apparently a real crack-up.

"Wadda ya mean? Just talk ta him."

"About what?"

"It doesn't matter, he's a baby. He's not gonna remember any of it."

Paul looked from her back to the baby, and couldn't help but stare at his eyes.

"You've got your mom's eyes, little man." He said quietly, moving the baby closer to his head.

"She tells me that you've got my chin, too, but I don't know how she got that just from looking at you. I guess that's why they say that mother knows best, right buddy?"

Paul moved his fingers that were holding the baby's head to stroke his thin, black hair. The smile that was plastered on his face deepened.

"We're going to do a lot together, you and me. Just you wait. I'm going to give you the world at your fingertips. You'll have everything you could ever want or need."

He looked back to Ruby.

"Both of you will."

She smiled and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Don't make promises ya aren't ready to keep."

He looked at her, almost hurt by what was meant as a little joke.

"It's the only promise that I know for sure that I can keep, no matter what. No matter how hard I have to work or what job I have to do, I'm going to make sure he has the life that neither of us had."

She kissed him again.

"Well, ta be honest, I think I'm about as happy as I've ever been right now. I don't think I need much more than this."

He shook his head.

"Of course you do. We all do. If we want to give the boy the life he deserves, we need as much money as we can get our hands on."

He was going to keep the promise, even if it meant giving everything. No matter how hard he'd have to work, or what kind of job he'd have to do.

"Money buys opportunities," he said, matter-of-factly. "Schools, clothes, healthcare, hell, even a house to live in. None of it's free."

Ruby gave him a serious look.

"I'm pretty sure I understand the consequences of being broke. Did ya forget where I came from all of the sudden?"

Paul's thought about that ball, bouncing off of that nasty carpet and spreading dirt everywhere. Not in a million fucking years would they ever find themselves living like that.

His voice took a turn for the serious.

"I know full well where you came from, and we're not ever going to end up like that. I'd kill myself before I let us live in that filth."

She glared at him.

"What did you just say?"

He looked at her. She was staring daggers at him. He almost instinctively pulled PJ a little closer to his chest.

"What? I just said that we're not going to end up…"

"In that filth?"

She cut him off.

"I grew up in 'that filth' and I think I turned out just fine, thank you very much."

He stared at her, not quite sure what to say.

"Look, I was just…" he started, but she didn't let him finish.

"You were just trashing my hometown and family, yeah."

"Oh, come on!" He said, a little louder than he should have. PJ stared at them.

"Look, I can say it, but you can't, okay?"

He scoffed.

"That's insane."

Her glare turned even sharper.

"That's what it is, and I don't want to hear you ever say that again. You got it?"

Paul didn't get it; not even in the slightest, but he was not ready for a fight. Everything had been going too well for that. So, he fought back his natural instinct to argue back, and just nodded. She returned the nod, and, without saying another word, left the room.

He looked down to PJ, who was staring up at him curiously.

"Well, I guess daddy said a no-no word, eh?"

The boy smiled.

"Someday you'll be saying plenty of them yourself; I've got a good feeling."

He played with the baby for a while; talking to him along the way about their future.He knew the baby didn't understand, and wouldn't remember any of it, but he felt that it was good to let the boy know that everything would be taken care of.

He talked and talked, until PJ started nodding off in his arms. Hecarefully put the baby down and tucked him in; giving him a final, delicate kiss on the forehead. He walked over to the nightstand, turned the light off and double checked the baby monitor. PJ had just gotten around to actually sleeping through the night, but the conditions all had to be just right.

He checked the living room for Ruby, but she was already in bed. He walked in almost as delicately as he'd walked out of PJ's room; careful not to wake his potentially sleeping wife. She was already in bed, reading a book. It was The Shining. He didn't care much for King, but he loved the movie. It gave him crazy nightmares when he saw it as a teenager.

There was something about the isolation and madness that overcame Jack Torrance deep in the Colorado Rockies that terrified him. Sometimes, he saw a lot of himself in Jack. He was a man obsessed, and it destroyed him in the end. It could happen to anyone, and that was where the real horror came from. Paul had been so obsessed with success from a young age, that he thought he may one day go as mad as Jack if he didn't eventually find what he was looking for.

He had pushed those thoughts away years ago, and now they only existed deep in the recesses of his mind. Still, every now and again, he would picture himself slowly driven to insanity by his constant failures. The pressure would get to him, and there would be no recovery. When those thoughts invaded his mind, he would picture a day when he could look back on how silly all of it was. He'd been waiting for that moment for most of his life.

He took off his pants and shirt neatly folded them on the chair beside their bed. Although he'd been out for a few months, and it had been years since boot camp, the discipline they beat into him in those days never left. He remembered the drill sergeants doing their morning inspections. Everything had to be absolutely perfect. If someone didn't do something as small as having their bedsheets tight enough to bounce a quarter off of, it was 50 push-ups for the entire room. Nobody wanted to be that guy, and most people never made that mistake more than once. Some did, of course, but they were usually 'encouraged' by the rest of the squad to do better. Most issues cleared up pretty quickly after that.

He slid into bed next to Ruby. She had a sheet up to her hips, but it was too hot for him to even consider covering himself at all. They had two fans set up, and a barely functioning AC in the living room, and with all of them combined, he would still soak the sheets in sweat every night. He couldn't imagine how she would need a blanked it weather like that. Must have been a Southern thing.

If it ever hit 100 degrees in Mountain West, people would think it was the second coming of Christ. Although, he was pretty sure she'd feel the same when they got their first blizzard. He chuckled to himself about it as he tried to get comfortable on the bed.

"What's so funny this time?" Ruby asked as she looked at him over the top of her reading glasses.

He smiled.

"I was just picturing how funny the look on your face is going to be when you have your first Northwestern winter."

She scoffed.

"I'm pretty sure I can handle it just fine. How cold could it possibly be?"

He laughed even harder.

"Have you ever even seen snow before?" he asked.

She nodded, closing the book and giving him her full attention.

"Of course I have. Just cause I lived in Texas doesn't mean I haven't seen snow. I told ya, I grew up all around the Southwest when I was a kid. We spent one fall living in a car in New Mexico. The desert gets pretty damned cold at night, ya know."

He nodded slowly.

"I see. So, when was the last time that you had to physically dig yourself out of your house with a shovel, and then spend two hours digging out your car just so you could try and get out of the driveway?"

She frowned, "That's a joke, right? Yer fuckin' with me, aren't ya?"

He gave her a faux-serious look.

"Not even a little bit. You don't have to take my word for it though; you'll see soon enough."

It was a fun little exchange, but also a nice way to sew a tiny little seed of doubt in her mind about their prospects of staying out there for too long.

"I'll be just fine, thank you very much. Besides, it's not like I'll be standin' around outside all day and night. I'm sure we'll have heat wherever we are."

A devious smile grew on his lips. It was time to plant the seed deeper.

"You'd be surprised how little a heater can actually do sometimes," he said. "When I was a kid, we knew this family. They lived a little way up the canyon from us. My dad knew them pretty well, but I don't think I ever said more than a few words to them. Anyway, one winter, the heating system in their house gave out in the middle of the night, and, come morning, they'd all frozen to death!"

She stared at him, squinting her eyes and trying to suss out the truth.

"Seriously? They all died? How do people live in a place like that?"

He couldn't hold it anymore, and he completely busted up laughing, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Okay," she said. "Now I know yer fuckin' with me."

He kept laughing.

"You should have seen the look on your face. It was too good for words."

She pulled one of the pillows from behind her back and started hitting him with it.

"Yer a real asshole, ya know!" she said loudly.

That didn't stop his laughter.

"I know," he said, "but you still love me."

She huffed. "Yeah, well I'm startin' to regret it!"

When his laughter finally died down, he smiled and leaned in for a kiss.

"I'm sorry for fucking with you, baby." he said, "but sometimes, it's just too easy."

She slapped him lightly with the book and then went back to reading. After awhile, just like every night, he got used to being sweaty and drifted off to sleep.