Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

wake though. She pulled him to one side, pressing a set of keys into his hand. They belonged to the small house she and his father had been living in when his pa had the heart attack. They'd transferred to another division of Kenkyusha Electronics so they could live within easy driving distance of his school. His pa said being close meant Peter could count on having kinfolk there to support him, without them being right in his young man's business. Peter's ma laughed, and winked at Peter on the sly, which meant his pa had been worried enough about him being so far from home he felt the need to buy a house close by.
    "Peter, your pa wanted more than anything for you to graduate from college. Promise me you won't give up now, son. Ezekiel would roll right over in that grave we're fixin' to put him in tomorrow. The house is all paid up for. So you can bring Tater and Rufus out, and get them started to learning what they need to get into college too." She firmed her chin then, and smiled at him with tears running quiet down her pretty face.
    Peter didn't have no kind of choice at that point, and he'd firmed his chin too. "Yessum' I'll get them into— did either of them finish school?" His ma looked over to Auntie Caroline, and she shook her head. "Well, then, I'll get them into one of those GED programs, and then we'll see what school we can get them into."
    His ma handed him the pictures then, both of them in shiny new silver frames. "Wasn't this the one you called Butterfly, son? I thought you might like the spread they did on her winning Homecoming and Prom Queen, but your pa didn't know and used the rest to wrap some fish in when he went up to the lake with the Jacquez family. I managed to save these for you though."
    Peter looked, and sure enough, big as life, there was his Butterfly, all gussied up in some fancy Japanese doll outfit. He ran a finger over the glass. The picture in the other frame he'd seen every day of his life until he left for college. "Ma. I can't take your wedding pictures. I—"
    It was Auntie Caroline who smacked him on the back of the head. "Boy, even up here in the holler we learned about getting copies made of pictures. Once your pa sent that computer with the special telly phone, we done even larnt how to use FaceBook."
    A rusty sound rumbled up out of Peter's chest, and after a moment, he realized he was laughing. "Well, hell's bells, if you have internet up here, I'd best get the boys educated. I've got to be back to football camp in a week. Ma, will that give you enough time?"
    "Oh, Peter, I don't need nothing from the house but my clothes that are fit for the holler. You keep the rest of the things there." Peter's guts burned.
    "I ain't getting rid of your silk shirt, ma. Nor your fancy dancin' shoes pa bought you. I'll keep those, so's when you come to see me graduate, I can take you dancing'." Behind his mother's head he saw his Auntie smile approvingly, and Uncle Charlie, who stood off to one side, his grizzled old face shining in the heat, nodded just once. He took his pipe from his mouth to do so, and Peter was honored.
    He'd keep his mother's house nice, and when her heart healed up a little, he'd bring her back to California to live near him. "Well, Auntie Caroline, I 'spect Tater and Rufus can get their packing done in a week. I'll arrange the plane tickets for them."
    His pa had been forty-two.
    Marcus's hand tightened on his shoulder. "You know there's no shame in crying, right?"
    Peter grunted, reaching up to squeeze Marcus's hand. "Tater and Rufus are stopping by later. I hope you don't mind me going home every weekend— I know we used to study together, but I—"
    Marcus cut him off. "I'll go with you. I used to teach back on the island. Maybe I can help your cousins, Brah."
    Peter's face slid into an unfamiliar flex of musculature. Marcus grinned at him, and Peter realized his friend was responding to the expression on his own face. He lifted trembling fingers to touch his lips, marveling at the way they curved upward at the corners. Marcus's smile slid away and his hand tightened on Peter's shoulder. "It's good to smile too, Brah. Your fa'tha, he'd not want you to waste your whole heart— dammit."
    Peter shook his head. "No, no, you're right. He'd never have let me get away with wallowing in misery. When Great Gramps passed, pa said the best way to show our sorrow was to live our lives in a way that woulda made Paw-paw proud. And he'd damn sure have told me to not