Gordy Comes Home - 13. Chapter 13

Linda had arranged everything. Including a two week honeymoon cruise to Alaska. They seldom left their room. The exceptions were two helicopter tours; one to visit a glacier and another to view wildlife. John missed Texas and well… others.

As John had told his father, they made their home at the ranch, for almost a month. Until Linda announced she had found the perfect place.

John and Linda bought a house on the lake. The house sat on seven wooded acres with a deck that reached the width of the house and extended over the lake. It was new and Linda assured John and his Dad that only the “best people” were buying there.

John’s dad responded with, “I don’t know any ‘best people’, I only know people.“ She choose to ignore the comment.

The house had a great room, the open area featured a sizable kitchen, dining area and spacious living room area. A hall led to four bedrooms. The master bedroom had spacious closets, a bathroom with a sunken Jacuzzi tub (big enough for four) and an equally spacious shower.

Linda stated the “boathouse” would eventually be their weekend getaway.

John did not appreciate the inference that when his father died, they would move back to the bigger ranch house.

Linda did at least listen to his input on furnishing and remodeling etc. They bought a powerful speedboat and installed a floating dry dock along one end of the deck.

John’s father was not a frequent visitor, even before his health failed. Seems Linda was prescient.

John spent more and more time at the ranch. Linda spent her time in Hollywood. At first she stayed with Mary Anne and family. Soon she found other accommodations. John never asked. Her visits to Hollywood became more frequent and lasted longer.

As his father weakened John seemed to gravitate more toward Wylie. His pain was almost forgotten. His overwhelming concern was for his father. Prostate cancer had metastasized. Even before it had been diagnosed. Throughout the years, John cursed his father’s stubborn refusal to get regular medical check ups.

He defended himself by saying his best friend was “Doc”. John in a moment of anger retorted, “And I suppose he checked your prostate frequently.”

They both blushed at the implication. John would remember that was the only time he could recall seeing his father blush. The fact that they had both blushed, cemented the memory.

Wylie spent more and more time at the ranch. Even when Mary Anne stayed home.

Linda’s frequent and prolonged absences were barely noticed. They were almost never mentioned. There were times when Mary Anne seemed surprised that her once good friend was in town and had not called. She never tried to defend or cover up for Linda. More than once she expressed anger for what she saw as “abandoning her family“. After all Mary Anne, was part of the family.

John was grateful to Mary Anne. She came often with her husband. She called almost as often as Wylie. When she could; she came. Every visit, just as Wylie’s, focused on John’s father.

Mr. Grant loved the attention, but resented the imposition his condition forced upon everyone.

Bradley‘s, now “B J’s” presence was a like a balm to John’s father. Sometimes he was the only one who could drag John away from his father’s side. “Horsey” had been one of his first words and it meant he wanted a ride “now”. As he grew so did his fondness for horses. John loved the little fellow. He looked like a miniature Wylie. Those same green eyes would darken if he didn’t get his way. John laughed every time he saw that. BJ’s eyes seldom grew dark if his uncle John was around. He called Mr. Grant, “Grappa.” Each time he did a smile creased the now haggard face. Wylie’s presence was always appreciated. It was greeted with greater enthusiasm, if BJ was in tow. Wylie understood.

As for John and Wylie, together? The pain at watching “their” father die, drew them closer. This emotional closeness lead to physical closeness. There were times when sexual tension made it hard to breathe for either man. Their sincere attempts to hide it, were, for the most part successful. Sometimes, a touch lingered too long. Or a tender smile would hold the other’s gaze too long. In every case it was John who withdrew. Some wounds never heal.

Hospice was called. The hospice nurse had just left when Linda arrived. John asked, “Why didn’t you call. Someone would have met you at the airport.” He suddenly realized she had no luggage.

“John, we need to talk.”

She lead John into the library. “John, I met someone. I didn’t mean for it too happen. It just did. He has asked me to marry him. I’ve already got a local attorney and filed for a “no-fault” divorce. I have papers for you to sign. I am not asking for anything. Just to be free to marry him.”

John was stunned. He said nothing. He held out his hands for the papers. “I will get my attorney to look these over and get them back to you. I take it there is an address?”

“Yes.”

With that she handed him the papers and turned to leave.

He watched her go. When emotions finally surfaced he felt only relief. The next thought was that his father would be pleased. With a smile he thought, “Conchatta may get news that will lift her out of her funk.”

He felt only relief.

There was no question about whether John’ father would spend his last days at home. As he weakened, John had to ask Louis to tell the hands to stop visiting. His dad enjoyed the visits but they sapped his strength. The only visitor that seemed to revitalize him, other than BJ, was Doc. More than once John saw the man leave with tear filled eyes.

John knew little about his father’s best friend. The time they were together seemed to be when they traveled. John was vaguely aware the Doc had a family. He had met Miss Mary many times. John knew they had one son. Doc was never at the ranch, on a social call, and John in turn had never been taken to their ranch. Still, Doc was his father’s admitted, “best friend”. The emotions both his father and Doc exhibited after each of Doc’s visits confirmed the fact.

When John told his father of the divorce, his father patted his hand and said, “Next time son, make sure it’s someone you love.” Conchatta simply snorted as if to say, “Good riddance.” She then proceeded to cook a feast. Even John’s father ate more than a little.

“Mary Anne simply hugged John and said, “She didn’t deserve you.”

Wyle was hesitant. He seemed to think a while, then, “How do you feel about it, John?” John seemed to be hard pressed to answer. Wylie wrapped his arms around and held him for a long time. When he broke the embrace he said, “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

Here? John realized that Wylie, Mary Anne and BJ had been “here” all along. Almost since the first hospitalization. They had been sitting with John and Conchatta when the Hospice nurse gave her spiel. When was the last time they weren’t “here”? John couldn’t remember.

The end came early one morning. John had fallen asleep in a chair beside his father’s bed. Wylie came in to check. John awoke to feel a hand rest lightly on his shoulder. “I checked your room. How’s he doing?”

John fully awake listened. He got up and approached the bed. His fathers eyes were closed but his mouth was opened. His flesh was gray and cold to the touch. He had known the moment he realized he no longer heard the rasping that, lately, had accompanied his father’s breathing. Still he had hoped. Hoped for what? Another day. A day filled with either pain or drugged unconsciousness. Another day of just having him here. It was guilt, as much as the sense of loss, that brought the tears. He wanted his father with him in any condition. The tears were blinding him when he turned to Wylie.

He found Wylie, silently crying, beside him. He pulled Wylie to him and hugged him. He laid his head in the crook of Wylie’s neck and cried. Without restraint. Without remorse. With an emptiness so complete, it was overwhelming. He cried.

Had anyone come in, they would be hard pressed to tell who was comforting whom. They were both sobbing. Clinging to each other. Both trying to fill the vacuum this man’s passing had left in their lives. A vacuum too vast and too new to fill. It could only be acknowledged.

Mary Anne was a pillar for both men. Conchatta’s children came to help. Their mother worked as always. Only occasionally did she wipe away tears or suddenly disappear into the bathroom. It seemed to John his father’s passing laid a pall upon the ranch and the dealership and his life.

Joe Don and Sally came to the ranch to help out. Joe Don comforted both young men. He would have them laughing more than either wanted. Joe Don never let his grief show beyond an occasional look of sadness. The boys needed him.

Wylie was beside John in making the plans and arrangements. His gravesite would be in the family plot. He would be part of the fifth generation, buried there, alongside John‘s mother.

The service was simple. Most folks had paid their respects at the funeral home. The eulogies were delivered first by John and then by Wylie. Mary Anne had sat with them behind the podium. When Wylie choked up she quietly passed a sleeping BJ to John and stepped forward to take her husband’s hand. Wylie composed himself and was able to complete his tribute to his father. Mr. Grant would have been proud of both sons.

No one moved out of the house for a week after the funeral. Joe Don and Sally took alternating days off from the dealership. One was constantly at the ranch.

Mary Anne stayed a week and told John her Mom and Dad gave her an ultimatum. Come home: Send BJ home: Or make room for them. Mary Anne opted to go home with BJ. Wylie stayed another two weeks. It wasn’t until Mary Anne and BJ came back to spend the weekend that Wylie went home.

John became engrossed in running the ranch and the dealership. He became involved to the point that Joe Don threatened to whip his ass; almost on a daily basis. After three months he came into John’s office and said, “Alright Johnnie boy. I have had it. You’re coming with me.”

John argued that he had paperwork and a sales appointment coming in.

Joe Don took him by the arm and lifted him out of his chair. He half lead John to the sales lot and deposited him in the passenger seat of Joe Don’s company Tahoe.

“Fasten your seatbelt sonny. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

“Geez, I think you should be shot for even thinking about imitating Bette Davis. Come to think of it. Don’t you keep a gun in here.”

When he opened the glove box, Joe Don reached over and slammed it shut. Had John not jerked his fingers back, he might have lost a couple.

“My Bette Davis got rave reviews when I did a skit in training camp. I got a standing ovation and two proposals of marriage. One was your Dad and you know what a critic he was.”

John laughed at the thought of this giant of a man imitating a petite lady. “Yeah, it was probably a scene from “whatever happened to baby Jane’ and Dad was drunk on his ass.” John realized that talking about his dad had gotten easier. The memories were comforting and pleasant.

“Yeah, well, your right on both counts. But I was a hit.”

“Where are you taking me? I really have work to do. I‘m not really hungry.”

“John, you’ve been working too hard. Conchatta packed a bag. Sally picked it up. My job is to put you on a plane and Wylie will pick you up at the airport.”

“We don’t want to see your sorry ass back here for two weeks. Tanned and ready to work. You need the rest. When you get back you are going to have more work than you know.”

John found Joe Don not forthcoming with any more pertinent information. Any other topic was ok. Just nothing about the “more work than you know”. Feeling the victim of a conspiracy he wondered what he had done that made ‘everyone’ think he needed time away. Still, during the flight he realized he needed this, needed to see BJ, Mary Anne and Wylie.

The time in Hollywood was indeed a breath of fresh air. John got a call each day from Joe Don and Louis. The calls were made to assure him he was not needed and had no excuse to cut the time short.

John was back three days. He felt more composed, relaxed and more at peace than he could ever remember. He had expressed his appreciation to his friends with gifts from Hollywood. Joe Don’s had been an autographed picture of Bette Davis, as “Baby Jane”. Sally knew in an instant the reason for the gift photo. She laughed her ass off.

The afternoon of the third day was winding down when Joe Don walked into John’s office. “Johnnie boy, your looking better than I have seen you in a long time. I know your dad’s passing was rough on you. It was rough on everyone that loved him. I’m proud of the way you to stepped in and took over. You’ve done a great job. I know you’ll run this place just like your dad did. Everybody here loves you.” John was confused about the whole conversation. It was not the usual “daily, business discussion”.

“Joe Don? What are you trying to say?”

“John, before you’re dad got sick, Sally and I had planned to retire. We put it off when, well. Look, you don’t need me like you used to. I mean you know, you’re the closest I ever got to having a son. It always made feel good to be part of your lives, you and your dad. But, John, things are different now.”That was the first Joe Don had ever called him John. It staggered John for a moment, before he could catch up.

“Me and John, we talked a lot about you and Wylie. He had planned“ Joe Don paused a moment as if he‘d lost his train of thought. He continued, “Well, he was so proud of how you adjusted… took it all in stride. I think that he finally began to see you as a man. Maybe for the first time. You didn’t let heartbreak destroy you. He; and I were so proud of you. Still are, I am sure. “

“John, me and Sally we want to enjoy our time.” With that, there was a catch in his voice and his eyes had moistened.”

Clearing his throat, he continued. “John, Sally and me will be leaving for Mexico in two weeks. We have a nice house on the coast and you know that for the last few years we spent a lot of time there.”

“She’s already trained Suzy, to take her place. Me, I never did enough to think about a replacement. You can handle this whole operation by yourself. I know your dad and I had hoped…. well, The point is you can run the place until you realize, you don’t have to. We’ll be leaving in two weeks. Till then, I intend to make myself scarce. I’ll still be available, so you won’t be too overwhelmed. If you find you have to rely on me. Well, we can put it off, but John, as much as I love you, it’s time for me to go.”

Joe Don’s eyes moistened again. The big man simply walked out the door leaving John with a shocked expression. Joe Don had been a constant in his life as much as the ranch and the dealership. Hell, Joe Don was er, had been the dealership.

John stared blankly out the window for a long time. He didn’t like change, not really. Losing Joe Don was like losing his father all over again.

A soft touch jerked him from his reverie. Sally looked into his eyes a long time. Softly, she almost whispered, “What did you do to make Big Joe cry?”

As his eyes began to focus and before he could respond, she continued, “He told you didn’t he? Again not waiting for an answer. “He knew it would be hard on you. The big idiot didn’t even consider the fact it would be harder on him. He’d been so worried about how you would react.” She chuckled, “He is in his bathroom, bawling like a new born calf.”

All this time she had been standing beside his chair, gently rubbing the flat of her hand between his shoulders. John was still inside trying to adjust to losing Joe Don.

“You know, you’re not loosing him. Not like your dad. Joe Don will be in your life for years to come. I’ll see to that. John, I’m not taking him away from you. It is something that we both need. Something you need. Someday you may understand how he felt about your dad. He loved him so much. It was hard at first for him to make room in his heart for me. But, I wormed my way in. Now with your dad gone. Well, he needs to move on and so do you.”

“John, I don’t think I have to tell you how much you and your dad, mean to us. Joe Don could never find the words to tell either of you how he felt. It still goes too deep. He never had a loving family nor a family he could love, until your dad and you.”

“Now, we have each other. You know; If you needed us, we would be here, but you don’t right now. It really is time to move on.”

“Now, I’m going to take the big crybaby home and he’ll be fine. We’ll take tomorrow off and maybe stay at the boathouse. Would that be ok? You come to dinner tomorrow night and you two can laugh and cry together. I think you both need it, just a little.”

John stood up. He knew he had to let her go. He walked her to his door, a arm across her shoulder; her arm around his waist. It wasn’t until after she left that he realized he had not said a word.

He had called Wylie that night. Seems Mary Anne and Wylie already knew. Conchatta had fixed dinner which just happened to focus on John’s favorite dishes. She and Louis were always eating dinner with John. At least for a while now… since...

John didn’t bother chiding anyone for not telling him about Joe Don’s plans. It would not have made it easier.

The dinner with Joe Don and Sally was more fun than he had expected. They talked and laughed late into the night. Sitting on the deck, remembering old times. It was never really tearful. Even when they said good night. They all spent the night at the boathouse and Sally had a full breakfast ready when John was ready to go to the dealership. Joe Don gave him a few pointers as he was leaving. A big hug from both and he felt almost like a kid leaving for his first day at school.

“Their gone!”

His initial response was about to be, “Of course! They have been gone two weeks.”

It was almost three a.m., when John groggily answered his phone. Wylie was drunk. John wasn’t sure of anything except that initial statement. The rest of the conversation consisted of blubbering, sobbing interspersed with, “why’d she do it?” and “I love you, John.” Finally, John convinced Wylie to hang up the phone and get some sleep, assuring him they would, “talk in the morning.”

Morning turned into early afternoon when Wylie found himself confronted by John, proffering coffee and aspirin.

John had taken the next available flight. Arriving in L.A., he had tracked down Mary Anne. Tough job. She was at her mother‘s. They had met for lunch and Mary Anne was friendly. She seemed calm and determined. Over a Cobb salad she asked, “John did you and Wylie have an affair, in college?

John was shocked at the question. He tried to pass it off, “Mary Anne, I have always had the utmost respect for you. You know very well that Wylie and I are best friends. I can’t sit here and allow you to besmirch my character and that of Wylie’s. You know he loves you. He was devastated when you left.” John realized his stilted, overly dramatic retort was wasted on Mary Anne.

He blushed.