Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

he'd have guessed he'd dream of one of the many girls he'd dated, or perhaps of Hinata.
    He dreamed of his pa. They'd been sitting on the front porch of their little log cabin back in the holler, and his father had looked younger than he'd seen him in years. The silver which had crept up his pa's temples had been entirely missing, and the lines around his eyes and mouth were the faint tracings Peter recalled from when he was very young. His pa had a pipe with cherry tobacco in it, and the pleasant scent wafted to Peter on the early evening breeze that waved up lazily now and again from the creek side. He reckoned it had been nigh on ten years since he and his pa had sat like that, not since before pa started his planning and scheming to get Peter and Ma out of the holler and into what he liked to call a better life.
    A pang of sorrow shot though Peter's center, fierce and swift as a striking cottonmouth in the swamps that lay south of the holler. He didn't rightly see how the life could be better if his pa were missing from it. Perhaps pa would have been gone whether they left the holler or not. It stood to reason that the things the doctor said were wrong with pa's heart when he passed would have come about wherever he lived. The lower stress level of life in the holler was offset by the higher physical stress of poverty, and the crushing knowledge that his family had so few resources and opportunities there.
    Peter shrugged, and then carefully dragged himself to a seated position. He wondered if he dared attempt a trip to the toilet by himself, then shook his head in a negating motion. No, he wasn't so stupid as to attempt that. Just as he began to consider throwing something at the walls to gain Rufus or Tater's attention, a knock sounded at his door, and Tater's wary face poked around the edge of the door.
    "You trade that sour attitude in for a better one whilst you was asleep?" Tater's voice brimmed with wry skepticism, and Peter had to catch himself from bristling.
    "Some. Dreamed about Pa." His voice came out a sight gruffer than he'd imagined it would, and Peter realized he'd really needed the sleep Tater had insisted on if he came out of a— he glanced at his bed side clock— four hour nap this tired. "He was telling me he didn't fall in love with Ma's looks, but with the bits and pieces inside that were what really made her who she was. Tater, it felt as real as talking to you now does. What do you reckon that means?" Peter's voice dipped a little at the end, going a touch hollow. Tater stepped fully into the room.
    "Listen you, we'll get you to the toilet, and let you take care of business, and then Rufus and I'll get you settled on the couch downstairs for a bit. I've a thought or two about that dream of your'n, but it can bide a bit." Tater closed his mouth then, and moved to the bedside. He half lifted, half carried Peter to the bathroom and helped him brace himself against the sink counter while he aimed into the toilet. Once Peter finished up, Tater moved him back to the bed with quiet efficiency and helped him into a loose pair of sweats. "Stay put there. I've gotta go get Rufus from downstairs."
    Tater disappeared back out the door of Peter's bedroom. Peter watched the door, anxious for his cousins to return. He wanted to be settled downstairs before Hinata arrived. The happy melody of the front door chimes quickly disabused him of the notion he could attempt a dignified manner with Hinata. He pushed to the edge of the bed, ready to attempt walking down by himself. Tater's voice caught him just as he stiffened his arms to push himself to standing.
    "I wouldn't advise that. Not lest you want ta stay right where you are for the next coupla weeks with an ugly nurse parked in that there chair." Tater angled his chin to indicate the rust colored armchair in the corner. "What's more, if'n you don't simmer the hell down, you won't be fit company for a flea, and I'll have to send your Butterfly packing back to that fancy condo of his."
    "What do you know about Hinata's place?" Peter's query came out a lot higher in pitch than he'd have liked, but it couldn't be helped.
    Tater cast Peter a sly look, scratching at his chin as he answered. "Well, if you're ready to behave, perhaps I'd be inclined to share that with you."
    Peter growled, gritting his teeth to bite back an angry retort. He promised himself that as soon as he was better he'd take Tater in the back yard and knock him around a good bit. He