Randomly Randomness

How Do You Do? My Name Is Sue!

It turned out that one of the reason's Jeremy needed to get home was to take off his prosthetic leg. This, of course, prompted more Banshee Shreiking from Jane May and the rest of the family who apparently missed the part about his time in the Marine Corp and subsequent injury. This actually wasn't unusual. Think about it. With the Banshee Shreiking it's a wonder they even heard the part about him being married. 

"Well, isn't that a fine how do you do?"  Grinning, the Sheriff stood also obviously ready to head home and fill his wife on on the latest. Honestly, I'm surprised she also wasn't here.

"I've got to get home to my dogs." Pate squeezed past Wade, down the hall and out the front door before the Sheriff had even finished stretching. Jane May did not protest his leaving. Or Hanks when he took off a few minutes later. 

* * *

As humorous as it all was, I was worried about Wade. The shock of finding his long-lost son standing on his front porch this morning holidng a plate of homemade cinnamon rolls must have been something. Unfortunatley, it was after dinner before I caught up with him on the back porch. The house was quiet, other than Rob's video games. Ellie had gone to stay the night with her grandmother and John Paul had gone to (hopefully) stay the night with whatever he could scrounge up at the bar. 

Tumbler, of scotch in hand, I took a seat next to Wade on the back porch steps. "Are you going to see him?" 

"He's busy."

"I'm sure he woudn't mind a visit from his father."

"Maybe tomorrow." 

"It's not like he's going anywhere with a wife and a mortgage."

"And four kids." He raised his beer bottle to me. "Congratulations, you're a grandmother."

Funny I didn't feel like one. 

"John didn't seem too thrilled."

"Maybe you should worry about yourself."

My temper rose. "I thought you could talk to him."

"He's a big boy."

He just didn't act like a big boy; probably because Wade didn't treat him like one. John drank. I assume due to the loss of his son and subsequent divorce. John drank and brought more drama than anyone should be allowed to. He was also mean. But shit happened. I know this as well or better than most. I was a product of the Mississippi Foster Care System, but it hadn't beaten me. Not the way life had beaten Wade. Not the way it might one day beat John Paul. If he didn't kill someone first with his drinking and driving. Considering how his mother had died, one would think he'd know better! Like I said before, I had to be careful with John. With his temper, things could get out of hand quick. And if things ever got really really bad between John and myself, I knew Wade would blame me. I took another slow pull from the tumbler of scotch.

"So where was he?" I asked, refering to Jeremy.

"California, Afghanistan, Hawaii and Colorado."

"He's moved around almost as much as I have." I laughed softly, glad to see the end of a long day, glad for my scotch, glad that John Paul and Ellie were gone even if Wade wasn't in a talkative mood.

"Yup." 

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, a part of me wanting to reach out, to physically touch him, for comfort if nothing else. "How long has he been married."

"He iddn't say...I don't remember. A while."

"Are you angry?" I finally ask. I'd be mad as piss if my son turned up out of the blue thirteen years after the fact. Espeically considering how close he'd aparently come to dying. Wade deserved to be upset, to be angry, but ...

"What I am is tired of your damn questions."