The First Counsel

EPILOGUE

A week and a half later, my car turns off I-95 and heads back to the quiet, rural roads of Ashland, Virginia. The sky is crystal blue, and the early-fall trees blush in yellow, orange, and green. At first glance, it's just like before--then I take a quick peek in the rearview. No one's there. That's when I feel it the most.

Every time I come out to horse country, I notice the sweet smell of wildflowers. But as my car twists and turns past an amber thicket, I realize it's the first time I've actually seen them. It's amazing what's right in front of your face.

Taking in every yellow stalk in every wide-open field, I wind my way past the farms and toward the familiar wooden fence. A quick left takes me the rest of the way. The thing is, the gravel parking lot, the ranch house, even the always-open screen door--for some reason, they all look bigger. That's the way it should be, I decide.

"Look who finally made it," Marlon says in his cozy Creole accent. "I was getting worried about you."

"It always takes me longer than I thought. It's the side roads that mess me up."

"Better late than never," Marlon offers.

I pause to think about it. "Yeah. I guess."

Marlon stares down at the newspaper that's sitting on the kitchen table. Like every conversation over the past few weeks, there's an awkward pause hanging in the air. "Sorry about Nora," he eventually says. "I liked her. She seemed like a real brawler--always calling it like it was."

I pause on the compliment, seeing if it fits. Sometimes the memory's better. Sometimes, it's not.

"Is my dad . . . ?"

"In his room," Marlon says.

"Did you tell him?"

"You told me to wait, so I waited. That's what you wanted, right?"

"I guess." Heading to the room, I add, "You really think I'll be able to--"

"How many times you gonna ask me this?" Marlon interrupts. "Every time you leave, all he wants to know is the next time you're coming. Boy loves you like all-you-can-eat ribs. What else you possibly want?"

"Nothing," I say, fighting back a smile. "Nothing at all."