Changing Seasons

“Babe, what if I told you that in a few months we might be parents?” Heather squeezed my hand.

Me, a father?

I knew she wanted children and I had no problem giving them to her, but were we ready? “Umm, are we expecting a baby?” I stole a glance before turning back towards the road.

My plans for the weekend consisted of finishing the designs for an upcoming shopping center. Of course, my adventurous wife changed that when she begged for a night out. Movies and dinner at her favorite restaurant. I learned early on to keep her happy, or I suffered the next day when my lunch bag was empty. Happy wife, happy life.

“Not right now, but I want children eventually, Paxton.” She caressed the back of my hand.

“Heather, I’d love for you to carry my children. Seeing you walk around barefoot and pregnant with my seed. Right now, it wouldn’t be fair to you with my workload increasing. Maybe in two years?” She released my hand only for me to entangle our fingers together. “I want kids. I’ll give them to you, but can I enjoy my wife before some snotty nose miniature version of me steal all of your attention?” I nudged her playfully glancing at her before paying attention to the road.

A smile tugged at her lips until it spread across her face. “Just for that, I pray our firstborn is a girl.”

Scrunching up my face, I released our hands. “Why would you wish that blasphemy on me?”

Her laughter filled the car. “Aww, my poor baby. Gimme a kiss.” She grabbed the back of my head and sloppily kissed my lips.

“Alright now, woman. Let me pay attention to this road before….”

Quest asked me to describe the way I feel in one word, and I told him the sun. I said I feel like the sun and I had switched roles and not for the reasons that he thinks. Random word and from the scrunch of his shaggy brows, I knew he thought I snuck into Kameron’s hidden weed stash in the kitchen and smoked until my mind started playing tricks on me.

There were no drugs.

Completely sober and lucid.

My intense and unpredictable attitude. My refusal to see past my depression and grief. Everything I had become over the years turned me into a man that I haven’t recognized for a long time. People avoided me like they did when they avoided looking into the sun. My grief was too hard to look upon. My anger made people walk the other and avoid me at all costs. Making it impossible for people to look at me let alone want to get to know what caused me to be such a dark spot in a world of brightness. All of the outer layers, the sun’s rays, and beams are all of my issues and problems. Probably not the best way to describe myself but that’s all I had.

All I know is that my family, especially my brothers, deserved everything their hearts desired.

My place of residents for the last three years has been one of Kameron’s guestrooms because I lost the home Heather and I shared while married. I caused more fuck ups than a little bit and the least I could do was spend my Saturday mornings in the gruesome heat mowing his lawn and becoming his landscaper.

“Sweetie, I brought you something to drink.” Though low enough to sound like a faint whistle through the wind, I heard my mother’s faint raspy voice and dropped the bag of soil.

For the longest, she spoke about wanting to start a rose garden at Kameron’s house since he didn’t care how his yard looked as long as his HOA didn’t bother him. My mom took it upon herself to make it her new adventure but her sciatic nerve in her hips kept her from fulfilling the simple life pleasure. Watching her flip through Better Homes and Gardens every day. Watching her gaze out his front window and watching his neighbors watering their gardens, I decided to add another spark of sunshine to her already chipper aura and start planting the garden she wanted myself.

Taking the cold glass of water from her, I kissed her cheek earning a warm gaze from her big, brown eyes. “Thanks, Ma. It’s hot as Satan’s lair.” This North Carolina heat was no joke. You’d think I’d be used to the heat after living here all my life, but I hadn’t and don’t think I’d ever would.

“I tried telling you that you could’ve waited until after summer passed to start, Pax.” She clicked her tongue bumping my shoulder. “Either way I’m grateful for it. I’m going back in to watch my shows. Yell if you need me.” Leaning down to her five foot- three height, I smiled feeling the coolness of her hands on my cheeks as she held my face to kiss my cheek. “I love you so much, son.” Blinking with a smile that always made me feel cherished more than others, she squeezed my arms before going back inside.

Not too long after she went inside my dad pulled up stepping out of his truck with three Zaxby bags in hand. At first whiff, my stomach growled smelling their chicken zenders. I’d skip breakfast and get so caught up in wanting to finish the garden that I hadn’t thought about eating all day.

“This is yours. I’m going to go give this to your mother.” He stepped past me dropping my bag of food in my lap as he walked by.

“Thanks,” I mumbled tearing into the white bag. Mouth open, damn near drooling smelling the hot buffalo sauce. Just how liked, he got two buffalo chicken sandwiches with extra ranch and buffalo sauce.

There was nothing like a messy sandwich and I was a messy sandwich type of guy.

I was on my second sandwich when my dad joined me on the steps. He and I sat in a comfortable silence eating our food and watching the cars drive by. This had become his and my mom’s daily routine. Coming by here to babysit their grown-ass son. I couldn’t blame anyone for their hesitation and fear to leave me alone. I haven’t been sober long and it scared them all that I was going to relapse.

Losing my house took everyone by surprise but no more than me. I’ve never been irresponsible with my finances. The crazy thing is I had the money to pay it but I didn’t. I stopped caring about a lot of things after Heather died. To me, there wasn’t a point in paying for a house she’d never live in again. Wasn’t a reason to keep paying the car note on vehicles she’d never drive. Once the bank repossessed the house and all of our vehicles went back to the dealership, I had the choice to either move in with my parents, one of my brothers or find a new place of my own.

Though I wanted the comfort of solitude, I knew it would cause more damage than good. The only choice that made sense to my sanity was moving in with Kameron. I’d done too much thinking in the dark with a liquor bottle as my therapist to move in with my parents. It wasn’t long after the dirt settled on Heather’s casket did I start blaming my mom for the turning events of my life. I resented her and it’s been a battle trying to get over the anger and pain I feel she caused for being manipulative and selfish for the last eight years of my life.

Daily I put on a fake front of semi-happiness when my mom came over but deep down I held a lot of resentment and animosity towards her. Part of my anger softened because I knew she loved me, and the other part was being angry with myself. The fault was no ones but mine. I’m a grown man who had to own his mistakes and that meant owning that my first love walked out of my life because of me.

“How is work going?” Dad broke the silence by asking a question I hated having to answer.

“It's work. Can’t complain.” Wiping my mouth and hands clean, I crumbled up the bag of trash and sat back getting lost in my thoughts.