Page 38 of Letting Go
I wasn’t able to visit my family for my birthday like I intended, but August was too busy to get away. Mama won’t love that it’s just a quick weekend trip, but visiting a month late is better thannot showing up at all. Exiting the airport doors, I scan the waiting vehicles for the signature black Bennett Corporation truck before hearing a short chirp of a horn.
“Are you lost, or what, stranger?” I snap my head to the right and laugh as I head toward the truck, throwing my suitcase in its bed before hopping into the front seat.
“Well, I don’t know how you do it, Carrie, but you get prettier, Sam gets uglier, and yet you stay with him anyway.” I grin as I hug my sister-in-law. When they started dating in high school, Carrie started babysitting me after she met our family and is the closest thing I have to a sister. My oldest brother can be wound a bit tight some days, and she’s a good balance for him. She rolls with things and is a little ray of sunshine, especially compared to her grumpy husband. If someone were to tell me they didn’t get along with her, I would question their personality.
“No, please, don’t stop and tell me more.” She laughs as I buckle my seatbelt. The forty-five minute drive from the airport flies by as I tell her what I can about my job, what I think about Tennessee, and dodge multiple questions about the status of my love life.
As we take the familiar turn toward the main gates of our family’s land, they swing open as the truck approaches. Two large stone pillars stand on either side of the road with an arched metal sign hanging overhead. In a bold black script, the words Bennett Family Farm let the world know whose land they are standing on.
My grandfather officially changed the business name to Bennett Corporation in 1948 when he took over for his father, but the metal sign predates the name change. If we ever needed to replace the sign, I suspect my parents or brothers would still have it say Bennett Family Farm. My granddad always said to never forget that true success in life is not just about being successful in business, but it’s really about being successful in taking care of your family. Pulling further up the drive, my shoulders seem to relax sometension I wasn’t aware I was carrying. Carrie parks in front of the main house, and I get out of the truck as three English cream golden retrievers bound toward me to say hello. I take a deep breath and let the Texas air welcome me home.
“Duke! Mallow! Lola! Get back, you nutty dogs, let the man breathe!” My brother Charlie bellows at his dogs from the front porch as they jump for attention. I drop down and give them a little love before standing as my brother struts off the porch. “Good to see you stranger, glad Carrie could pick you up so you didn’t get lost,” Charlie says as he claps my back.
“I missed you too, asshole,” I respond through a laugh.
“You might be old and grown, but I will still whoop your ass for speaking like that in front of a lady.” My father’s stern voice rings out as he and Mama walk up. “I promise I raised my boys better than that, Carrie,” he calls out.
“Yes, sir. My apologies, Carrie. I’m sure Sam never curses,” I tell her with a knowing look.
“Never, he is a perfect gentleman,” she replies with a chuckle.
“And you are a damn liar, girl, but you sure are a pretty liar,” Sam says as he wraps his arms around his wife, giving her a kiss on her cheek. “Give the man a break, Dad. He’s just been outta Texas for too long. We’ll set him straight before we let him run off again.”
“You’re not wrong. It sure is good to see you, son.” My dad shakes my hand as we clap each other’s backs.
“Will you hurry up and move so I can greet my baby now, Hank?” Mama pushes her way around him to get to me. “Hi, baby! I’m so glad you’re home!”
“Hey, Mama. I missed you.” I wrap her up in a big hug.
“Let’s move this reunion inside. I know Carole baked all your favorites, Walker. I brought up a pan of seven-layer bars before I headed to the airport,” Carrie says.
“Yep, they’re delicious, and already missing a row,” Charlie proclaims shamelessly. “I also made a fresh batch of sweet tea, and your favorite beer is in the fridge, Walker.” Mama tugs my arm toward the house.
Walking through their front door is like a time warp back to my childhood. The front room is centered around a large fireplace with multiple seating areas. The couches have been swapped out with newer ones, but otherwise the room hasn’t changed much in over thirty years. My parents raised us all in the main house, and now my brothers have houses on the land far enough away to have privacy but close enough to be here regularly. Sam and Carrie built a new house about a mile south, near a little stream on our family land. After they welcomed their sons Will and Henry, Carrie wanted to try for one more. Fate had a sense of humor and blessed Sam and Carrie with two identical twin girls. Brynn and Cecelia are six now and after raising her own three boys, Mama was thrilled to finally have some baby girls around to love.
Charlie built a house a half mile from Sam and Carrie when he was getting serious with his ex and considered proposing. While the relationship had an ugly and abrupt end, his house turned out beautiful. We joke that instead of a baseball field, he built a house of dreams: build it and the right woman will come, and someday she will. We were all relieved when he didn’t marry his ex-girlfriend. She was a piece of work; the only good thing to come out of that relationship was Charlie’s daughter. Isabelle is now five, and Charlie has had sole custody of her since she was a baby. Last I heard, Izzy hasn’t had any contact with her biological mother in at least three years. I don’t know how anyone could abandon such a sweet kid. Izzy may not have her biological mother in her life, but she is mothered and loved by her grandmother and aunt as if she were their own. She’s only a year younger than Sam and Carrie’s identical twins, and those girls are more like sisters than cousins.
“Girls! Come on down!” Mama hollers, and I promptly hear the stampede of three little girls running down the stairs. Who knew such dainty little things could be so dang loud?
“Uncle Walker!” Izzy launches herself at me with a bear hug with Brynn and Cece each tackling a leg close behind.
“Did you know Will and Henry are at baseball camp this whole week? Henry wanted to skip it, but Daddy said he couldn’t because he made a commickment,” Cece tells me.
“It’s commitment, baby,” Sam corrects her. “He was mad about how his season ended, but he’ll be just fine.”
“Tomato, potato,” Cece chimes in. “All I know is that he threw a right fit about going and Daddy—”
“Cecelia Jane, that’s enough. Go help your Nana in the kitchen,” Sam interrupts his daughter. “She’s like the Daily Republic of any juicy gossip, so be careful what you say around her. Odds are she’ll repeat it to anyone at random.”
I look down at Izzy, who has her head on my shoulder. “And what about you, darling? How are you doing?”
“I’m good, Uncle Walker. Sure is nice having you back home. I missed you,” she admits.
“Do you know how nice that is to hear, Izzy? It’s nice to be here. I missed y’all, even your daddy and his stinky feet.” I squint my eyes and glare at Charlie with a serious expression.
“Oh, they’re bad, Uncle Walker. I think he might have a condition,” she tells me. A bark of laughter explodes from me at such a serious statement from her.
“Isabelle Marie, I do not have a condition. My feet do not have a condition. I don’t know where you picked that up, but not everything is a condition.” Charlie rolls his eyes as he hands me a cold beer.
