wheelsy_sheriff (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wheelsy_sheriff) wrote2009-06-08 12:22 am
wheelsy_sheriff) wrote2009-06-08 12:22 am
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(no subject)
[""Does your mom know yet?"]
June Pardy is out on her front lawn, kneeling in the grass weeding out a flower bed when her son's truck pulls in to the drive.
Standing up she dusts off her pale blue gloves and pulls them off. Pushing back her sunhat with a knuckle she waits as Bill sits in the truck a minute before getting down.
He gives her a shadowed smile that tells her something's the matter before he even says a thing and she schools her own expression not to give her sudden wariness away.
"Hey, Bill." Her tone is light and easy, her smile warm.
"Hey." He's trying to keep his tone just as light but there's a tightness behind his voice that she can pick out. She studies him and his eyes go down to the ground and the flower beds.
"Flowers're lookin' good, mom."
He stops a few feet away and she can see him trying hard not to fidget.
In her mind's eye she can see him as a little boy, antsy with something to tell her, worrying his bottom lip, eyes anywhere but her.
She remembers telling him, "Stop chewin' your lip, Bill, an' get what you gotta say out."
He's broken the one habit, but she can still read him easy enough without him gnawing on his lip.
Taking her gloves into one hand, she rests her fist on her hip and tilts her head up at him.
He grew up so tall.
"You lookin' for gardenin' tips, son?"
Staring at a rose bush he blinks then shakes his head.
"No, I uh, I came t'talk to you."
She nods, working on maintaining her patience.
"Anything in particular?"
His eyes widen slightly and his mouth opens, and she's taken back to when he was eight and trying to tell her how he dented his friend's daddy's truck with a baseball and had to mow the man's lawn every weekend for a month.
"Yeah, actually, I got some news." A beat later he adds, "S'bout work."
Her blood freezes and a knot forms in her belly. Her grip tightens on the gloves and she doesn't say anything, waiting for him to continue; already sure of what he's going to say.
"I'm goin' back. This comin' Monday I uh, I been reinstated."
His eyes finally settle on her and it's the look of fear in them that breaks her. He's worried about her reaction and after the talks they've had on the subject she can't really blame him.
It hurts to see that uncertain, worried look in his eyes, made up of hesitation and doubt, and she knows it'll be even worse to take if she turns it into disappointment or anger if she gives the reaction that she's feeling in her chest.
It's hard, because not only does she see her young son in the man standing in front of her, she sees him laying in that hospital bed with bandages around his middle after the robbery; she sees him slime-covered and bloody when he broke down her door to get to her after the night with the slugs; and she sees him now, ready and wanting to get back to a job that could kill him, and anxious for her reaction.
You didn't even think about or try t'find somethin' else...
She can't say the words or give voice to any of the other thoughts going through her head right now, all of which are disappointed and worried and angry with the helplessness his words have hit her with. So, instead she takes in a slow breath and nods.
"Guess it's that time."
"Yeah. Finally. Been out for months but I'm finally cleared to go back on duty." His voice comes out nervous and eager, and she forces a small smile.
"M'sure they'll be glad t'have you back."
He smiles wide to that and she almost expects him to flash his teeth like he used to when he was younger.
You ain't even thinkin' 'bout what losin' you could do t'me.
She swallows the bitter thoughts and keeps an even expression while she bends down to pick up her gardening tools.
"I expect Kate is happy for you."
His smile falters briefly, but is back in place when she straightens up.
"She congratulated me, yeah."
Holding in a frown she nods.
"Well, I got things t'do an' I'm sure you do, too." Stepping closer she tiptoes to brush her lips against his cheek and remembers a time when she used to have to bend down to kiss his forehead. "Don't get yourself killed."
They share a look, his is hesitantly smiling and hers is soft but guarded, and then she takes her tools and things and heads into the house; closing and locking the door behind her and stubbornly willing her eyes not to water.
*****
Bill watches her head back into the house, trying to puzzle through her reaction.
They didn't argue, which is good, and while he thought he caught some brief flashes of disappointment, she never gave any outright disapproval.
He considers following her and maybe talking more about it, but decides it's better not to push. This ended all right, and she's trying to let him do what he wants so he's not going to press something he doesn't have to.
He's going back to work and she seems okay with that.
Nodding to himself he turns around and heads back to his truck, glad he can tell Kate that things are all right with his mom.
June Pardy is out on her front lawn, kneeling in the grass weeding out a flower bed when her son's truck pulls in to the drive.
Standing up she dusts off her pale blue gloves and pulls them off. Pushing back her sunhat with a knuckle she waits as Bill sits in the truck a minute before getting down.
He gives her a shadowed smile that tells her something's the matter before he even says a thing and she schools her own expression not to give her sudden wariness away.
"Hey, Bill." Her tone is light and easy, her smile warm.
"Hey." He's trying to keep his tone just as light but there's a tightness behind his voice that she can pick out. She studies him and his eyes go down to the ground and the flower beds.
"Flowers're lookin' good, mom."
He stops a few feet away and she can see him trying hard not to fidget.
In her mind's eye she can see him as a little boy, antsy with something to tell her, worrying his bottom lip, eyes anywhere but her.
She remembers telling him, "Stop chewin' your lip, Bill, an' get what you gotta say out."
He's broken the one habit, but she can still read him easy enough without him gnawing on his lip.
Taking her gloves into one hand, she rests her fist on her hip and tilts her head up at him.
He grew up so tall.
"You lookin' for gardenin' tips, son?"
Staring at a rose bush he blinks then shakes his head.
"No, I uh, I came t'talk to you."
She nods, working on maintaining her patience.
"Anything in particular?"
His eyes widen slightly and his mouth opens, and she's taken back to when he was eight and trying to tell her how he dented his friend's daddy's truck with a baseball and had to mow the man's lawn every weekend for a month.
"Yeah, actually, I got some news." A beat later he adds, "S'bout work."
Her blood freezes and a knot forms in her belly. Her grip tightens on the gloves and she doesn't say anything, waiting for him to continue; already sure of what he's going to say.
"I'm goin' back. This comin' Monday I uh, I been reinstated."
His eyes finally settle on her and it's the look of fear in them that breaks her. He's worried about her reaction and after the talks they've had on the subject she can't really blame him.
It hurts to see that uncertain, worried look in his eyes, made up of hesitation and doubt, and she knows it'll be even worse to take if she turns it into disappointment or anger if she gives the reaction that she's feeling in her chest.
It's hard, because not only does she see her young son in the man standing in front of her, she sees him laying in that hospital bed with bandages around his middle after the robbery; she sees him slime-covered and bloody when he broke down her door to get to her after the night with the slugs; and she sees him now, ready and wanting to get back to a job that could kill him, and anxious for her reaction.
You didn't even think about or try t'find somethin' else...
She can't say the words or give voice to any of the other thoughts going through her head right now, all of which are disappointed and worried and angry with the helplessness his words have hit her with. So, instead she takes in a slow breath and nods.
"Guess it's that time."
"Yeah. Finally. Been out for months but I'm finally cleared to go back on duty." His voice comes out nervous and eager, and she forces a small smile.
"M'sure they'll be glad t'have you back."
He smiles wide to that and she almost expects him to flash his teeth like he used to when he was younger.
You ain't even thinkin' 'bout what losin' you could do t'me.
She swallows the bitter thoughts and keeps an even expression while she bends down to pick up her gardening tools.
"I expect Kate is happy for you."
His smile falters briefly, but is back in place when she straightens up.
"She congratulated me, yeah."
Holding in a frown she nods.
"Well, I got things t'do an' I'm sure you do, too." Stepping closer she tiptoes to brush her lips against his cheek and remembers a time when she used to have to bend down to kiss his forehead. "Don't get yourself killed."
They share a look, his is hesitantly smiling and hers is soft but guarded, and then she takes her tools and things and heads into the house; closing and locking the door behind her and stubbornly willing her eyes not to water.
*****
Bill watches her head back into the house, trying to puzzle through her reaction.
They didn't argue, which is good, and while he thought he caught some brief flashes of disappointment, she never gave any outright disapproval.
He considers following her and maybe talking more about it, but decides it's better not to push. This ended all right, and she's trying to let him do what he wants so he's not going to press something he doesn't have to.
He's going back to work and she seems okay with that.
Nodding to himself he turns around and heads back to his truck, glad he can tell Kate that things are all right with his mom.