Chapter One: A Grief Encounter
Tye Jonas stood beside his cream-colored, king-size borrowed pickup on a hot June day, deep in Western Kansas. The sky waved blue, bordered by endless seas of golden wheat, unattended, guarded only by sunflower sentinels. He kicked the tires of his dusty truck, looked at the endless ribbon of blacktop road shining like glass in the sun. He was pensive and perturbed. “I don’t know why you came here; this place holds nothing but grief and pain for you,” he said out loud. Looking down the highway toward the little town where he grew up, he muttered, “Go back to New York.” He climbed back in his pickup, resting his head on the steering wheel, pausing and sighing, “Don’t leave without going to the cemetery. That’s it - you are going to the cemetery and then back to New York. Class reunion or no class reunion, you are going back where people care about you.”
Poignantly and painfully, memories he’d pushed aside came rushing back in a parade of depression. He remembered when other kids mocked him for his smell, calling him a pig. He remembered the hunger that came from not having enough food. “Enough!” he said loudly. He looked around to see people tending graves nearby, staring at him. No one had visited his parents’ graves in a decade. Tye pulled out his camera, wiped away a tear, snapped a photo of the graves, jumped back into his pickup, and headed east on the highway. In a shaky voice, inflamed with emotion, he said, “If you make it to the airport by noon, you’ll be back in New York by eight.” He swiped at more tears that escaped. He remembered the last time he had cried: the day his best friend, Michael, was killed by snipers while they were on patrol.
Tye wiped away tears as he glanced at the signs that lined the narrow two-lane road to check the speed limit. He swerved slightly left when he noticed a white car wonkily parked on the shoulder. Passing the car, he looked in the rearview mirror - a young woman had just gotten out. She looked no more than 30, wearing Capri jeans that rose to a tiny waist barely visible under her yellow top. He slowed down and considered his options, thinking, “If you spend thirty minutes changing her tire, you'll still make it home by eight. You should pay some penance, and there is no shame in chasing what is hot.” Tye turned around and parked behind the car, analyzing the situation: flat tire, dirty, beat-up white sedan, hot driver. He hopped out of his truck and walked toward the woman.
Evelyn couldn't believe her eyes. Approaching her was a cowboy with blonde hair, a seriously buff physique, the brightest blue eyes, a white T-shirt, low-cut Levi’s, and boots. She was momentarily speechless, just staring at him, when he said, “Hi, I’m Tye. "Do you have a spare tire?" Evelyn, lost in thought and amazement, paused and replied, "Yes, but it’s in the trunk, and we have all our luggage back there.” Tye glanced into the car and saw two young boys, about the same age, looking at him through the dirty side window. "Are these guys yours?" He asked. "Yes," she answered, cautiously withholding any further details. He walked around to the trunk and said, "I can change this tire if you want me to."
Evelyn bent over to open the trunk. Tye stood back to get a better look at those jeans, noticing that her yellow low-top sneakers matched her top. His analysis was interrupted by Evelyn apologizing, "Sorry about the mess; we didn’t have time to pack properly." Tye thought, “You are such a horn dog, stopping so you could get a better look at her.” Prophetically, he thought, “I wonder if she is nice?” He started to unload the trunk: beat-up suitcases and shopping bags. She was standing next to him, and it was hot. The kind of day when the hot, dry wind on your face felt like a blast furnace. She was about to comment on the heat when he pulled his T-shirt off and tucked it into his back pocket. There, close enough to reach out and touch, stood the hunkiest blond cowboy with perfectly chiseled abs disappearing into low-cut button-up jeans.
As Tye reached in and retrieved a suitcase. Evelyn grabbed a bag, bumping against his bare chest. He noticed the boys were still watching him, their faces pressed up against the side windows and now the dirty back window. Tye paused, sweat dripping down from his chest onto his jeans. "I’m not trying to tell you your business, but it’s a lot safer for the boys to be out of the car while I’m changing the tire. The car should be shut off and the emergency brake on. It’s going to be pretty hot in there. We should all move over to the grass, away from the car, in case someone swerves and hits it." Evelyn didn’t miss a beat. "Someone like you," she quipped. He grimaced, choosing not to acknowledge her comment, and asked, "What do you think?" By now, the boys were clamoring, "Yeah, Mom, can we get out and watch?"
Sensing her unease, he tried to reassure her, “I promise it will be safer, and I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” She paused and said, “I guess it will be all right.” The words escaped her mouth, and the boys piled out of the car. “I’m Tye,” he announced, and one of the boys shouted, “I’m Andrew, and this is Benjamin!” pointing at his brother. The two boys looked about the same age. Benjamin, slightly smaller with blonde hair and blue eyes like his mother, dressed in blue shorts, a white top, and dirty white sneakers. Tye paused and shook Andrew’s hand, a boy slightly sturdier than his brother, wearing a yellow shirt, green shorts, and the same dirty white sneakers. He had seen those green eyes before, always a light of joy in his best friend from childhood.
Evelyn felt a twinge of annoyance, standing in the tall greenish grass with her hands on her hips, thinking, “You’re making another mistake, aren’t you?” Glancing back at the boys, she saw Tye kneeling in the grass, saying, “Do you boys want to learn how to change a tire?” Evelyn objected, saying, “I don’t know,” but her words were drowned out by both boys yelling loudly and excitedly, “Yeah,” in unison.
Knowing that she was concerned, Tye paused, considering what to say: “The most important part of changing a tire is safety.” Evelyn noticed that the boys were watching him earnestly. He went to his truck and returned with two flares. “Do you boys know what flares are?” he asked. Her objection could barely be heard over the boys saying, “No.” She blurted out, “I don’t want the boys messing with fire; it’s dangerous.” He walked over to Evelyn, who still had her hands on her hips. His blue eyes seemed even bluer, standing there staring at her with the blue sky bordering his face. His tone was confident and captivating. “The boys aren’t doing any of the work or touching any of the tools. I want to explain as I go if that is all right.”
Evelyn Mahoney had been a single mother for five years, balancing a teaching job with raising two boys. She was never distracted. She couldn’t be, but today she was. “Sure,” she said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she thought to herself, “What is wrong with me?” She was about to caution him, but her thoughts never turned into speech. She heard Tye tell the boys, “We’ll place the flares behind the car fifty yards and in front of the car fifty yards.” He smacked the flares together, and they lit up as the boys yelled, “Yeah.” He told the boys, “You have to do everything I tell you.” The boys answered, “Yes, sir.” Evelyn heard the boys say “yes, sir” with such respect and enthusiasm. She couldn’t remember them ever saying “yes, sir” before. Looking back, they were gone. Tye stepped off the fifty yards on each side of the cars. The boys mimicked his steps, one on each side, struggling to make their legs go as wide as his. She was thinking about the boys. She had tried to find good male role models for them. But being both father and mother was never enough. And then it was over. The beat-up luggage and shopping bags were in the trunk, and the flares were put out. Evelyn looked around, surveying the situation. There in front of her on the grass were her twin sons, both hugging Tye, who had his shirt back on. The boys were back in the car when Tye walked around and opened the door for Evelyn. She paused and said, “Thank you.” He handed her a slip of paper with a phone number written on it. “If you have any more trouble, call me. I will be in this area for a while.” He turned around and walked back to his truck, noticing in the reflection of his bumper that she was still standing by the car, watching him get in.
She had driven the twenty or so miles so the boys could see their grandparents. Approaching the little town, trepidation and fear overcame her: “I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I am in no shape to see their gazes when the boys act up, and there is no father to discipline them. I know they are going to ask me about work and my car. Their conversation will only be a distraction. What they really want to know is: why can’t she find a guy? When are those boys going to have a father? What is wrong with her?”
She had married a soldier, knowing the deadly risks and the enduring separation. She had been with a friend when the news came that her friend’s husband had died. Feeling her grief, knowing the pain she would endure, she was never ready, surviving only on prayer and hope. And then hope ran out. Michael Devon Mahoney was killed in action, leaving her a single mother. Gallantly, in his confident style, he had promised her he would return. She was five months pregnant when the news came. It was an overcast day, an ugly day, a day of sadness. Driving towards the little town, her depressive, negative thoughts marched through her mind like dutiful soldiers, marching and marching, day and night: “You are never going to find another man. The boys will grow up without a father.” Knowing what she was about to do was wrong, Evelyn pulled the car over to the side and feigned reading a text on her phone. “Oh, no. Your grandmother is ill, and we will have to come back another weekend.” “Mom, you promised,” Benjamin cried, tears running down his face. Andrew, the quieter of the two boys, was not talking, just crying and sobbing, curled up in a ball on the floorboard of the back seat. A normal mother would have been moved by her sons’ emotional pleas and the broken hearts shattered by her lies. All the empathy, all the compromise, all the giving disappeared years ago on some lonely night, sobbing, holding Michael’s pillow to her face. She had never washed it. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she could still smell him when she held it up to her face. The nightly tears had not washed it clean over the years. “You are the worst mother in the world,” Evelyn thought.
Two o’clock had become three thirty as the spare tire was changed and the cowboy disappeared. Evelyn faced returning home and explaining to her parents why she had returned without visiting the boys’ grandparents. It was decision time. Her choice? Undo a lie with another lie. “Guess what,” she told the boys. “Your grandmother is feeling better, and we are going after all.” The boys were excited. There would be a carnival with rides, and the boys were arguing over who would ride the most rides. “I am riding four rides,” Andrew said. “I am riding ten rides,” Benjamin said. “Mom, how many rides will there be?” Andrew asked. “Oh, I don’t know.” “Probably eight or nine,” she said. “That’s it,” Benjamin said. “I am riding them all.”
Evelyn thought, “Was it grief or loneliness or just the stress of being a single mother that caused her to lie?”
Chapter Two: Reconnection
Tye was driving east, his thoughts focused on a mysterious woman and two boys. He had forgotten all about the stressful deadline of making it to the airport by six; right now, he felt a sense of connection to something more important. He pulled into a small, rundown gas station with a hand-painted sign. He thought to himself, “I was ahead of her. I’ll wait here to see if she drives by. Maybe I can catch another glimpse of her license plate.”
Pulling up to the worn-looking pumps, he grabbed his credit card and was pumping gas when a stranger approached him. Tye noticed that the man was older, with a scraggly beard, dirty jeans, and worn boots. “Nice truck,” the stranger said warmly. “Yeah,” Tye replied, trying to stay focused on the road. “Where’d you get it?” the man continued, curiosity evident in his voice. Tye, feeling the weight of the moment, wanted to keep things simple and replied, “It’s a rental.” “I’ve never seen that truck rented before. Where did you get it from?” the man asked, his genuine interest clear. Tye, wincing at the dangling preposition and hoping to ease the tension, responded, “From a dealer.” “Your truck is being worked on?” the stranger asked, his tone sounding a bit concerned. “Yeah, something like that,” Tye replied, glancing briefly at him. “Oh,” the man responded, his voice betraying a hint of disappointment. Tye looked more closely at him, and he felt a pang of regret for sounding dismissive. Realizing they were both in this moment together, Tye looked him in the eye and said, “I really like this truck; if I ever buy another one, I’ll get one just like it.” After finishing up at the pump and securing the gas cap, Tye smiled and said, “Have a great weekend.” The man brightened, replying, “You too, brother,” before turning back toward the gas station. Tye heard the man call him “brother.” It had been a long time since someone had called him “brother.”
Back in his truck, Tye realized that he had not been watching the road, and he was annoyed. “Ugh,” he sighed, thinking, “You are an idiot. That conversation at the gas station was about as useful as watching a rabbit hole. Go back and check on her.” Turning west once again, his thoughts raced back to his schedule. “You’ll never get home,” he said out loud. “Home, yes, New York is your home. You have friends and a place of your own. No family here, no family there. You always have to make it on your own.”
As Tye approached the spot where he had changed the tire, he was struck by a sense of anticipation and emotion. “What is this feeling in my gut?” he wondered, sensing his change of mood. “It’s five o’clock; I must be hungry.” He looked around, noting the emptiness of the rural road, with only faint black burn marks from the flares left as a reminder of his earlier struggle. With a sigh, Tye continued past the scene, not so eager to reach the little town but eager to get something to eat. “Get a burger and get out of there,” he thought, hoping for a brief escape. He turned the corner onto the main street, and a wave of memories washed over him, connecting him to both his past and present. Each building was a reminder of his youth, a glimpse into a life of joy that was cruelly interrupted by grief and then fear. But today, the memories were happier. His good friend Jack lived in that house. He remembered the comforting times spent in that church with his mother.
Pushing on, it was a short drive to the center of town—just five or six blocks— each block felt heavy with nostalgia. He parked and caught his reflection in the rearview mirror, pushing his hat back and smiling. “Not too bad,” he thought, acknowledging the attractive man he saw before him. Stepping out of the truck, the lively atmosphere of the town left him feeling uneasy. With his head down and his cowboy hat pulled low, he navigated through the crowd on his way toward the festival. Deep down, he wondered if he would see anyone from his past, but a part of him hesitated, not wanting to recognize anyone or to be recognized.
The food trucks were lined up halfway through the lively games and rides area. Weaving through the crowds, the music from one ride overlaid the music from another, creating a chaotic symphony of noise. He pushed on, navigating to the food truck, carefully stepping over the multi-colored power cables crisscrossing each other like snakes between the game trailers and the street. Looking up and then down, concentrating on the crowds, the cables, and the rides, he heard someone calling “Tye, Tye!” Scanning the crowd for a familiar face, his heart raced when he remembered the voices. Looking down, he saw Benjamin and Andrew sprinting towards him. Tye dropped to his knees, bracing himself as they playfully body-slammed him, wrapping their arms around his neck and planting kisses all over his face. He was relishing the moment when his exuberance was interrupted by another familiar voice cutting through the excitement, calling out, “Boys, boys!”
Evelyn rushed to find the boys, weaving her way through the crowd. Her heart was racing as she searched for a way forward. Finding an opening, she pushed the crowd apart but stopped cold in her tracks, righting herself and catching her breath. “You,” she said accusingly. “What are you doing here?” Without leaving Tye time to respond, she added, “Are you stalking me?” The crowd had parted and formed a circle of interest around them - a bewildered cowboy, holding hands with two smiling boys before a seething mother. Tye began cautiously, in defense, “I grew up here, and I came back for a class reunion,” he said, building his case like an attorney in a hostile courtroom. “I was not expecting to see you, but I hoped someone could tell me who you are. I don’t know your name.”
Evelyn paused to think, replaying the events of the afternoon in her mind. “Had she not told him her name?” she thought. Her single-mother strength renewed, she thought about what to say next. “Honesty is the best policy and something you could use more of today,” she thought. “Evelyn McDougal Mahoney.” As the words came out of her mouth, it was as if bells were tolling. The color drained from Tye's face. He dropped to his knees and put his hands on the sides of his head, mumbling, “What are you doing to me, man? You’re killing me.”
Evelyn watched with disbelief. It was another backwoods hayseed - probably someone with no job, no money, and no future. Tye was still on the ground when she said, “What is wrong with you?” The boys were standing on either side of Tye, each with a hand on his shoulder. He rose, tears in his eyes. “Michael was my best friend,” he said. “We grew up together.” Evelyn paused in disbelief, saying, “I don’t understand. Michael's best friend was a guy named T.” Tye wiped his face with his arm, saying, “I am T. Michael was too lazy to say the word Tye when we were little, so he called me T.” Evelyn did not respond. Thinking about the story, she reluctantly admitted, “That sounds like Michael, always taking the easy route, but I still don’t believe it. Tell me something only you and Michael would know.” Her accusatory tone brought out the defense team again. Tye carefully chose his words: “When we were eleven, Michael wanted to streak. We took off all our clothes and ran through the woods. I remember because we got poison ivy, and we were in serious trouble. It is very hard to explain how you have poison ivy on your private parts.” Evelyn laughed. “Michael told me that story.” As she spoke, her tone softened and became friendlier. “I just can’t believe it’s you.”
Tye looked down. Contemplating what to say next. The boys saw Tye’s tears drying on his cheeks and stood by him, faithfully holding his hands. “I don’t know what is going on. I traveled here from New York for a class reunion, but when I got close to town, all I could think about was the grief and sadness of my life here. I lost my nerve and was headed back east to New York when I found you on the side of the road.” Evelyn listened in shock. He was talking about himself, but he was describing her life. Her anger softened slightly, and disbelief gave way to genuine intrigue. She said, “Let’s get out of the middle of the lane here and find a place to talk. The boys want to get something to eat. Are you hungry?” Benjamin responded loudly, “I’m starving.” Tye looked into Evelyn’s eyes; the vitriolic viciousness had been replaced by concern and consideration. He responded in a voice softened by a strange emotion he felt: “I’m always hungry.”
Both boys grabbed Tye’s hands and started pulling him. “Let’s go,” said Andrew. As all three boys walked beside her, Evelyn thought, “This feels right. Why am I so uneasy?” With one burger, chicken strips, drinks, and a bun loaded with four burgers, they settled together on a beat-up picnic table with peeling green paint, on the side of the red food truck. Evelyn was on one side, while Tye and the boys sat on the other. Evelyn began, “I was bringing the boys to their grandparents’ house. As I got closer and closer to town, I grew more and more worried.” Evelyn glanced down at the boys. They were busy playing a game on Evelyn’s phone and couldn’t point out her lies. “They never say it, but I can feel it. They want to know why I have not remarried, why the boys don’t have a father. I cannot bear it.”
Tye listened solemnly, thinking of the right thing to say. His lengthy pause hung heavy in the air, suddenly interrupted by Evelyn, who asked, “You actually ate four hamburgers squeezed in between two buns?” Tye replied sheepishly, “Yeah.” She could see that there was a little-boy charm in his response. She was thinking about what to say next, but never got a chance to speak. The boys were finished eating and ready to ride. “Mom, can Tye ride with us?” Benjamin asked. “Yeah, please, Mom,” Andrew added. Tye, not waiting for a response from Evelyn, looked at the boys and said, “Help me clean all this up and put it in the dumpster. I will buy tickets.” Trying to wipe the peeling paint with paper napkins, Evelyn, the single mother, was composing a speech on safety and staying together. She was about to speak when Tye reappeared with four all-event, all-weekend armbands. “We’re all set,” He said, smiling. Evelyn sighed, wondering what was next.
The four of them were jostled, shoved, pushed, and squeezed as they moved from one ride to the next. Evelyn spotted one ride that seemed suitable for their ages and was pointing to it and about to speak when Benjamin said, “Tye, you have to try this one,” pointing to the next tent. “Yeah,” Andrew added. It was the classic strength test where you slam a hammer down on the plate to make the ball hit the bell on top. Without responding, Tye pulled off his T-shirt, tucked it into his jeans, gave the man three dollars, and picked up the mallet. Evelyn grabbed the boys’ hands and tried to stand back to give him more room to swing, but was stopped by a fast-growing crowd that had encircled them. Evelyn thought, “I think they are more interested in Tye without a shirt than in the actual event.”
The crowd gasped in excitement. He drew the mallet back and, with one stroke, sent the ball flying through the air, breaking the bell and the mallet. There was a moment of silence followed by a cascade of cursing by the attendant: a towering man with huge fists attached to arms that seemed to reach his knees. Tye stood holding a shattered wooden mallet. The attendant yelled and pointed, drawing back to punch him when Tye put both his hands up and motioned for the big man to follow him behind the tent. Evelyn knew there was going to be trouble, and a fist fight was about to begin. Instead, there was silence. She, the boys, and the crowd were watching with anticipation. “What bloodied and beat-up person would emerge?” Evelyn looked down and noticed that he had dropped his T-shirt. Picking it up, she discreetly put her head down and smelled the T-shirt, looking around to see if anyone was watching her. The T-shirt had that man’s smell she remembered so well, and she smiled.
It felt like hours had passed, but in just a few minutes, the now-smiling attendant, missing three teeth in the front, rounded the corner, counting $100 bills, followed by a very sweaty, shirtless Tye. The two looked like best friends, shaking hands and patting each other on the shoulder. Tye quickly put his shirt back on and said, “Let’s get out of here.” By that time, the gawking crowd had dissolved, getting lost in one another. As the four moved down the line formed by the faded canvas tents that lined the edge of the festival, Evelyn was the first to break the silence, asking, “What happened there?” “Well,” Tye paused, catching his breath, “I knew I caused him damage, and I fixed it.” Surprised by the brevity of his answer, she asked, “That’s it?” “No, I asked him how much for the equipment and how much he would make that weekend if I hadn’t destroyed his event, and he told me. I paid him. Discussion over,” he said dismissively. “That was so cool,” said Benjamin. “Yeah,” Andrew added, “I can’t believe you hit the bell so hard. You must be the biggest winner ever.” Evelyn chimed in, “I bet you never want to see that guy again.” He replied, “Ironically, we will be seeing him on the way out. We won two of those large stuffed toys.”
With his head down a little, trying not to draw so much attention, Tye pointed to a ride, asking, “What about this one?” Benjamin cried out to his mother, “Can we ride alone, please, please?” “Yes, you can ride alone,” their mother added, pointing to the line where you enter the ride. With both boys in line, Evelyn stood next to Tye, and there was an awkward moment when neither one spoke. Sensing the discomfort, she asked, “Did you hurt yourself?” “Only my pride,” he responded. “I am so embarrassed.” She laughed, feeling a confidence and familiarity with him she hadn't felt before. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. Everyone was looking at you without your shirt, and they probably didn’t even realize you broke the mallet.” His face turned bright red. She thought, “How is it possible that a guy like that, so powerful, can still blush?”
Realizing he was unusually uncomfortable, Tye needed to compose himself and said, “I’ll be right back.” Evelyn watched him push through the crowd, thinking, “Surely he’s coming back.” She then turned her attention to the boys on the ride; colorful fish and birds, ducks and rabbits swirling around. Kids were screaming with joy as the character cars rose and descended, each motion accompanied by rap music. Evelyn thought, “Who chose this music?” They were enjoying themselves, waving and smiling. She took out her phone to capture pictures and a video of them. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed Tye at the yellow and green ticket stand. He was pushing his way to the front to talk to the red-haired gypsy ticket attendant, but a family of ten was at the front. The parents were arguing loudly, and several of the children were crying. She observed as Tye leaned down to speak with the gypsy. Suddenly, the angry father grabbed Tye's shoulder, pulling him away from the window. Tye turned and said something to the father before quickly heading back to Evelyn and the boys. She saw the ticket attendant hand the father ten all-weekend green armbands. She was about to ask him what happened, but the ride was over, and the boys were screaming as they came out of the exit line. “That was awesome,” Benjamin said. “Yeah,” Andrew added, “Let’s ride again.”
The excitement of the evening- an amazing adventure filled with laughter and hugs- came screeching to an abrupt halt as Evelyn sensed something special unfolding. “Boys, we need to go to your grandmother’s before she goes to bed, and it will be your bedtime soon,” their mother said firmly. “Oh, Mom,” Benjamin complained. “We just got started.” “Yeah, Mom,” Andrew chimed in. “We want to ride with Tye.” Both boys started to whine, and Andrew began to cry. Evelyn shot a glare at Tye, who quickly understood the cue and said, “Your mother is right. You have two more nights to ride, and we need to pick up two huge prizes.” Andrew replied, “Let’s go get our prizes,” as both boys grabbed Tye’s hands, pulling him back toward the site of the earlier drama.
As the four approached the He-Man site, it was clear that the event was closed and no one was around. The stuffed toys had been taken down, and the vibrant lights that used to illuminate that section of the rides were now dark. “What a shame,” Evelyn said, disappointment in her voice. Andrew glanced at Tye, his expression hopeful. He asked, “Does that mean we’re not getting any prizes?” Tye, exuding confidence, replied, “Not necessarily.” Before she could ask what he was planning, he jumped onto the ride, pulled back a tarp, and unveiled two of the largest stuffed dogs imaginable. “Wow!” Benjamin exclaimed as both boys wrestled to hold the dogs, which towered over them. She watched the scene unfold, impressed by how effortlessly he achieved the seemingly impossible.
To an outsider, it appeared to be a family of four walking along the rides with two large stuffed dogs tucked under Tye’s arms, the boys holding their mother’s hands. An uncomfortable silence ensued: neither knew how to end the night of fun. No one was speaking as they approached the parked cars. Evelyn broke the impasse by saying, “Say goodnight to Tye boys.” Tye set the stuffed toys down and hugged the boys. “We love you,” Benjamin said. “Yeah, we love you so much,” Andrew added. “I love you too,” he responded. As Tye rose, Benjamin asked, “Will we see you again?” Tye looked at Evelyn and asked, “Would you like to see me again?” Evelyn, choosing not to answer directly, responded, “Where are you staying? Are you here all weekend?” He thought about what he should say. He didn’t want to reveal too much about himself just yet, so he declared, “I am staying in a little town not too far from here. It is late, so I will probably spend the night and be here at least through tomorrow.” Feeling slightly rejected by a noncommittal Evelyn, Tye said, “Good night,” and walked away, this time not looking back.
Chapter Three: The Awakening
Late in the evening, as the lights dimmed and the crowds disappeared, Evelyn found herself downtown in a lonely town, alone with the boys in the dark. Her monumental task of cramming the stuffed toys into the car seemed daunting. Illuminated only by the streetlights, she struggled to find room in her small car for the boys and two large stuffed dogs. Shoving one dog in, an empty cup fell out and blew away. The trash that had accumulated in the vehicle never seemed to bother her; she was glad Tye had not asked to help put the stuffed dogs in the car. She shuddered at the thought of him seeing the condition of her car.
Moving to the other side, Evelyn pushed another dog in, forcing its head down to make it fit. It was a short drive to the Mahoney house, where she could relax, but as she drove, those dutiful emotional soldiers marched through her mind. “What would they say?” “Where have you been?” “Why are you so late?” As Evelyn arrived at the worn-looking two-story house, she noticed her mother-in-law, June Mahoney, a middle-aged mother of eight, with short Irish red hair framing a not-so-overweight figure, standing on the front porch, waiting for them to arrive. “I wonder how long she’s been standing there?” Evelyn thought, waving out the window as she pulled up. June had always been a completely accepting mother-in-law, offering the kind of unconditional emotional support typically reserved for mothers. “Scott and June are like a second set of parents,” she thought. “It’s my overly inquisitive, with a nasty attitude, sisters-in-law that I dread.”
The family had saved a parking spot for her in the driveway, leaving the Mahoney cars lined up on both sides of the street for blocks. The boys were the first out of the car, barreling toward their grandmother, who greeted them with hugs and kisses. As Evelyn got out and opened the trunk, her father-in-law, Scott, a big Irishman with grayish-red hair and a stomach that would not quite fit in his T-shirt, pushed past June, descended the steps, and approached the car with Ed, Michael’s oldest brother, in tow. Embracing Evelyn, Scott said, “Go inside and relax; we'll take care of the luggage.”
Entering the house, Evelyn felt a familiar comfort mingled with a twinge of grief, coupled with an uncomfortable anticipation that swirled around in her mind like a bizarre emotional cocktail. Andrew and Benjamin stood beside June in her brown overstuffed recliner, excitedly relating the events of the day. “We had a flat tire, and a man stopped to help us,” Benjamin explained. “And we got to use sticks that light up,” Andrew added. Evelyn plopped down in Scott’s matching recliner and said, “I’m so happy we finally made it.” Her comment was interrupted by Scott and Andrew struggling to navigate the front and screen doors, both carrying two large stuffed dogs. The boys spotted the dogs, and Benjamin exclaimed, “Yeah, and Tye won two dogs for us!” “And he broke the hammer,” Andrew chimed in. By then, the rest of the Mahoney crowd had descended from upstairs: Michael’s other brothers, Andrew and Benjamin, and his sisters, Katie, Kathleen, Bess, and Barbara, along with their spouses and twenty-one of the boys’ cousins dressed in their pajamas. “It’s bedtime,” Evelyn announced to the boys. “Say hello and goodnight, and let’s get your pajamas on.” Scott turned to Evelyn, saying, “I put your luggage in the guest room downstairs.”
It was nine in the evening, and only June, Scott, and a handful of brothers and sisters-in-law remained downstairs. June asked Evelyn, “How was your trip? The boys mentioned you had a flat tire. Are you all right?” She replied, “Yes, I’m just overwhelmed and tired from traveling.” June replied, “Andrew said you went to the festival, and Tye won two dogs for them. Is that Tye, Michael’s friend?” “Yes,” Evelyn responded, “but he now looks like Aaron, the man who played Superman with all the muscles. Can we talk about this tomorrow?” “Sure,” June said. “You must be tired.”
The crowd went upstairs, and Evelyn prepared for bed. The boys were already in their Spider-Man pajamas, fast asleep on the side of the big bed. Evelyn pulled on her pink pajamas with the white collar and cuffs and climbed into bed, but her mind was still racing. It was 10:00 PM, and she wasn’t asleep—not at 11:00, not at midnight. The day's events replayed in her mind, coupled with a lingering feeling that wouldn’t go away. Evelyn grabbed her phone. Knowing she wanted to text but also that she shouldn’t, she sent a message to Tye: “Are you asleep?” Watching the little bubbles on her phone, she received an immediate response: “No. Do you want to get a drink?” Completely out of character, Evelyn replied, “Yes.” Again, the bubbles appeared with a quick response from Tye: “Meet me outside in 20 minutes; tell Katie to watch the boys. She’s a night owl. Look for a cream-colored pickup about a block down on the other side of the street.”
“What have I done?” Evelyn thought, pulling on her clothes, “You must be crazy.” Driven by a force she could not explain, Evelyn brushed her teeth, put on perfume, touched up her mascara, and pushed her hair into a ponytail, topping it off with her favorite white baseball cap. Tip-toeing out and pulling the door closed, Evelyn crept into the living room to find Katie, Michael’s younger sister, dressed in baby-blue pajamas, watching TV without volume. “How can you watch that with no volume?” Evelyn whispered. “What are you doing up?” Katie responded. “I can’t sleep, and I am going to walk around a bit. Would you watch to be sure the boys stay asleep?” “Sure,” Katie responded, adding, “Be careful.” “Thank you,” Evelyn said. “I will.” With a silent determination, she opened and closed the door softly, stepping into the night. She was embarking on a path that felt both necessary and risky.
Standing alone in the dark at one in the morning, Evelyn thought, “You are crazy. What if he is a serial killer or a rapist?” Looking up, she saw a cream-colored pickup flash its lights. Tye was out of the pickup and opening the passenger door. Seated in the truck, she began, “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.” He paused, rehearsing a speech he had written in his mind. “I agree, so I want to talk with you first. Let’s drive out of this neighborhood up to the corner store.”
It was just four blocks, but it seemed to take longer with the anticipation and uneasiness of the moment. Parking at the gas station, he began. “I just wanted to get to know you better, and this is the only way I knew to get you alone so we could talk. I want you to feel totally comfortable and at ease. I am successful in my job, and I have a plane parked in a hangar at the airport. It has a bar, a TV, and a place to sit. Most of all, it is safe and discreet. Anytime this evening, when you want to go home, you say, ‘Take me home.’ If you don’t want to do something, then you say ‘no,’ and I will take you back.” There was a long silence. Tye added, “What do you think?” Evelyn responded, quite unsure of what she was doing, “I do want to find out more about you if you’re sure we’ll be safe.” “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He replied confidently.
Driving through the night, Evelyn felt a sense of adventure that she hadn’t felt in over six years. She realized that Tye was uneasy, so she started with a non-threatening question: “What do you do for a living?” He replied, “I work for a publishing company in New York.” Sensing that she wanted more, he added, “I am a writer.” Evelyn was curious and asked innocently, “What have you written?” Looking straight ahead at the road, Tye paused, thinking about what to say. “Should he be totally honest now or later?” Before replying, “I write under my Christian name, Stephen, so you probably have read one of my books or seen a movie based upon one of my books. I am Stephen Jona.” Evelyn was shocked, and her response reflected disbelief: “I am lost. You wrote Liberté, Call and Respond, The Death of Music, and Irene? Irene is my favorite movie.”
Tye responded now with more ease, “Yes, when I started to write, I used my first name and dropped the ‘s’ off of Jonas. No one pronounces it correctly anyway. I am Stephen Tye Jonas, and I write as Stephen Jona.” He continued, “I came back for this class reunion so I could still be Tye Jonas, a nobody.” Evelyn, sensing his discomfort, responded, “I don’t think you’re a nobody, nor did Michael, and the boys love you.” He tried to explain his pent-up feelings: “When everyone knows you, and everyone wants a piece of you, then you long for anonymity.”
Tye pulled into the large metal hangar through the huge doors. It was dark, but as they approached, the lights came on. She looked in disbelief: a jet gleamed in the moonlight shining through the hangar door. He jumped out and opened the door for her, clicking the remote to activate the plane. The plane’s taxi lights came on, and a staircase descended with a handrail. Tye took Evelyn’s hand and led her up the stairway. Once on the plane, he said, “I want to show you around, but before I do, I am going to retract the stairway.” As the stairway retracted, He could sense her unease and continued. “If you feel threatened, kick me in the balls, grab the keys off this hook, and press this button to make the stairs go down.” She responded forcefully, “Am I going to feel threatened?” “No,” he replied quickly, “It’s just that I am super sensitive to the fact that I have you alone on my airplane at night, and I am sure you feel a bit uneasy. You may feel a lot of things tonight, but threatened won’t be one of them.”
Tye went to the wall and pressed a button, and doors opened on the back of the cockpit wall to reveal an antique bar and a refrigerator. He inquired calmly, “What can I get you to drink?” “A White Russian,” she responded with no hesitation. “One White Russian coming up,” assembling the bottles and glasses to make the drinks. Handing the drink to her, he asked, “Would you like to sit down?” He and Evelyn settled into one of the two plush airline seats. She asked, “This is good. What are you drinking?” “Scotch,” he replied. “Where shall we begin?” Evelyn took another drink and said, “Why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself?”
He began, knowing that what he was about to say would make him feel sad and uncomfortable, “My father died when I was three. We didn’t have any life insurance, and my mother had never worked outside the home. We lost our house and had nowhere to go. A farmer had a machine shed with an office at one end, and he offered it to us as a place to stay. It was just one room, but my mother made the best of it by hanging sheets to make walls. We lived there throughout my childhood. Mother did laundry and ironing, and I chopped wood from the time I was eight. Part of the building had a dirt floor, so I grew up dirt poor, but I never knew it. We always had food, and my clothes were clean when I went to school.
I always looked forward to playing at Michael’s house because they would include me in everything they were doing. It was like I had brothers and sisters.” Evelyn could see the pain in his face. He continued, “When I was sixteen, I came home one day and found my mother lying on the floor. I couldn’t wake her up. I knew she had died because her hands were cold. I didn’t know what to do, so I just hugged her and cried for hours.” Evelyn looked at Tye through her tears and saw him wiping away tears with his hand. “I didn’t want to leave her, but I knew I should get help. We had no car, so I walked up to the farmer’s house and knocked on the door. When the farmer and his wife came to the door, they could see me crying and asked what was wrong. I told them my mother had died.
I don’t remember everything that happened next. I do clearly recall the moment my mother’s body was taken away. In the days that followed, our little house was filled with visitors bringing food, offering comfort. Some even asked if I wanted to stay with them. But despite their kindness, the State insisted I go into foster care, and I felt a deep resistance to that idea. I longed for stability, for a connection to my past. Thankfully, there were people from the community who cared enough to attend a hearing about where I should go. It was Scott Mahoney who stepped forward, telling the judge he would look out for me. His decision kept me out of foster care, a kindness I will never forget.”
As Tye continued sharing his story, Evelyn listened in disbelief, grappling with the weight of his experiences. “How could one child suffer so?” she thought. He spoke with a quiver in his voice, revealing how he learned to survive on his own, chopping wood by night and reading his homework by the light of a flashlight. He recounted the painful moments at school, where kids would scoff at his clothes. He remembered gathering all his courage to ask a girl to prom, only to be met with a cruel rejection that cut deeply. One Monday, he fainted from hunger at school, too embarrassed to reveal that he hadn’t eaten since Friday because of the relentless rain that made it impossible for him to chop wood and earn money.
Tye stood up, turning away from Evelyn as tears streamed down his face. The rawness of his emotions made him uncomfortable. Sensing his struggle, she gently asked, “Could I have another drink?” He turned back, his face still glistening with tears, and replied, “Sure, one more White Russian coming up.” Turning to the bar, he poured a Scotch for himself first, quickly downing his drink before preparing hers. When he approached her, she knew instinctively what she had to do. She stood up and enveloped him in a warm embrace. After a moment, she drew back and asked inquisitively, “Is that you?” Tye, red-faced now and highly flustered, admitted, “Yes, I am so sorry. I am extremely attracted to you.”
Trying to hide his apparent attraction issue, he motioned for her to sit next to him. Without pausing to delve deeper into his appearance, Tye spoke of Michael, his best friend, who had always dreamed of a life in the military—talking about brotherhood, camaraderie, and the certainty of three meals a day. When he heard about those meals, it felt like a lifeline, pulling him into a future he desperately wanted. Yet, amidst all that darkness, Evelyn couldn't help but wonder. She asked, “But how did you become a writer?” His expression turned somber, and he continued, “After Michael's death, I spent over a year in the hospital.” Sensing his pain, Evelyn wanted to comfort him, acknowledging his heroism by recounting, “You saved all three of your platoon members, didn’t you?” But he replied with a hint of doubt, “I can’t recall everything from that day, but they said I carried Michael over two hundred yards.”
Curiosity lingered in her mind, and she asked again, “But how did you become a writer?” His tone turned serious: “Once I got out of the hospital, I felt lost, carrying both physical and emotional scars without my closest friend by my side. I hitchhiked to New York, finding solace on park benches. They had me on phenobarbital for my pain. One cold winter night, I huddled on a park bench, shaking as thieves had stolen my medication while I slept. A jogger, Jon Sorenson, spotted me shaking on the bench and had his phone out, preparing to call the police, when my shaking caused my dog tags to slip down and become visible. At that point, he felt a hand on his shoulder and knew he had to take me home. In their home, I had a violent shaking episode the first night, and in the chaos, my notebooks filled with stories I had written fell to the floor. When I settled down, he picked them up and began to read. It was my book, ‘Call and Respond’, created during my time in the hospital. The next morning, I woke up to find a bar of soap, a razor, and pajamas laid out for me. Freshly cleaned and dressed, I went downstairs to find Jon and his wife, Gretchen, at the kitchen table.
They had heard me stir and knew I might need coffee. But as I grasped the cup, my hands shook with anxiety; Gretchen gently placed her hands over mine, guiding me to take a sip. Their kindness was palpable, devoid of any judgment. I briefly shared my story with them, and Jon apologized for reading my work without permission, saying it had fallen out. When he learned I had written it, he insisted I stay with them for a while. They asked if I could use a computer, and for the following week, I transcribed my notes. Each day, as they read my drafts, their tears reflected the power of my words. He eventually asked if he could share my work with an agent he went to college with, and I agreed. I remember the day that the agent called me and said I had an offer. I didn’t even know what that meant. He said the publisher had offered me a $250,000 advance for the book. I had never seen anything resembling such an amount before. It took me two years to rebuild my life with their support. I consider them to be my adoptive parents. That’s how I became a writer.”
Tye took a moment to gather his thoughts, his voice gentle but trembling. “These seats fold into a bed, which I often use when I travel. Right now, my emotions are all mixed up, and I need to lie down for a bit. If you’re okay with it, let’s lie on the bed. I’d love to hear more about your life.” They settled onto the bed, maintaining a respectful distance from each other. Evelyn reflected on something he had just said. She felt compelled to ask, “How can you be so attracted to me? I’m just an overweight, over-thirty, fifth-grade teacher with two boys.” “Oh, my gosh,” He replied with a chuckle. “You are petite and gorgeous.” His boldness took her aback, yet hearing him laugh made her smile. “You’re crazy,” she teased back. “I am crazy,” He responded playfully. “And what about you?”
Evelyn began to open up, her voice filled with sincerity. “Honestly, my life seems dull by comparison. I grew up as an only child in a middle-class family. We had our struggles, especially with money, but we were comfortable. I always knew I wanted to be a teacher, and after college, I met Michael. I was so happy. We got married by a military chaplain because he was going to be deployed. Just a month later, I discovered that I was pregnant. I remember that while I was expecting, a friend of mine on the base lost her husband. It was so difficult for her, and I had no idea I would find myself in a similar situation. When Michael died, it felt like my entire world crumbled. I was eight months pregnant with twins. My parents and the doctors thought I might lose the babies, but somehow I didn’t. That moment was strange; most women are filled with joy when their children are born, but I was engulfed in depression and suicidal thoughts. Thankfully, my parents were there for me. I had to move off the base and find a new place to live. We lived with them, and my mother helped care for the boys for the first six months. Finally, I found a teaching position, and somehow, helping students helped me recover. For the next six years, I worked hard to support my family, teaching fifth grade, but it meant depending too much on my parents while managing a teacher’s salary and death benefits, which were barely enough to make ends meet.”
Tye lay on his side, staring into the most beautiful blue eyes. Evelyn questioned him softly, “Are you even listening to me?” “Every word of it,” he replied sincerely. “My biggest struggle now revolves around my in-laws,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I can't handle the constant pressure to find a father for the boys.” Tears began to well in her eyes. She confessed, “What if I never marry again? What if I can’t find a father for them? It’s just too much for me.” Moved by her vulnerability, he moved closer, gently kissing her. She instinctively pulled away, a mixture of anger and anguish coloring her face. “You can’t just kiss me.” He embraced her, leaning in for a longer, more tender kiss. This time, she didn’t pull away.
Chapter Four: The Reckoning
“It’s five o’clock,” Evelyn shouted, sitting straight up in the bed. She whacked Tye on the chest with her hand and said, “Get up; we must have fallen asleep. The boys will be up.” They both bolted out of bed, pulling their clothes on. He pointed to the bath with one hand, struggling to get both legs into his pants. “There is a new toothbrush under the sink and toothpaste in the drawer.”
He jumped into his truck and asked her, “What are you going to tell them?” Distressed and feeling a growing sense of embarrassment, she replied, “I don’t know. It’s not what I did, but where I have been all this time.” Sensing her unease, he paused and said, “You're amazing. I am so intrigued by you - so protective yet eager, so sensible yet unconventional. I don’t know how I found you.” Evelyn responded, “You are crazy. We've only known each other for less than a day.” He continued, “I know how I feel. I used to ask my friends in New York, “How does it feel when you are in love?” They would respond, “We can’t say for sure. You will know when it happens, and you will feel a longing deep down inside you.” She replied with surprise and a little anger, “What are you saying? You think this is love?” Quickly, he diverted the conversation, responding, “No, I am just saying I have never felt this way with any other woman.”
As Tye pulled up to the Mahoney home, the lights were still off. It was five forty-five in the morning. Evelyn opened the truck door and headed for the house. Suddenly, she paused, turned around, returned to the truck, and got in. Leaning over, she kissed him, holding his head in her hands. Pulling away, she paused, waiting for a speechless, red-faced cowboy to respond. He could not answer, so she said, “Wish me luck.” She gently closed the truck door, quietly sneaking into the house. Once inside, Evelyn crept to the guest bedroom on the first floor, where the boys were still asleep on the king bed. She pushed off her shoes, threw her cap on the dresser, gently pushed Benjamin over, and climbed in, thinking, “I can’t believe I made it back before anyone woke up.” Lying there, she closed her eyes and tried to quiet the whirlwind of events from the evening that blew through her mind. As her heartbeat slowed and she began to relax, a voice spoke to her in her thoughts: “Find the journal, page 52.” It was Michael’s voice. She tried to ignore the message, closing her eyes again. But the voice was back, saying, “My journal, page 52.” Realizing that sleep would be as elusive as ever, she got up and tiptoed through the dark, out the back door, and sat on the Mahoneys’ deck, waiting for someone or something.
As if summoned by an angel, Katie appeared at the door in her baby blue bear pajamas. Stealthily opening the back door, she asked Evelyn, “What’s going on?” Sitting down next to her on the patio chairs, she quietly moved her chair to be next to Evelyn’s. As Katie wrapped Evelyn in her arms, Evelyn began plaintively, “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I met this guy. We talked all night, and then I came back, and now Michael is talking to me in my head, saying, ‘Find my journal and turn to page 52.’ I think I’m going crazy.” Katie looked at Evelyn, paused, and said, “This is going to require coffee.”
As Katie went to the kitchen, Evelyn bent over, her head in her hands, asking her dead husband spiritually, “What are you doing to me?” Katie pushed the sliding door open with her foot and handed Evelyn her cup. With her matter-of-fact, no-nonsense attitude, she suggested, “Let’s start at the beginning. Who is this guy, and where did you meet him?” Evelyn looked at Katie. Tye was right; she was the sensible, non-threatening sister-in-law. Katie was the same age as Evelyn, with brown short hair, brushed back to reveal the kind of face you want to see: welcoming and friendly. She began, “It’s T. You know him from your childhood. Michael said they were inseparable.” Katie, in disbelief, replied, “T? That skinny kid with the mismatched clothes?” To prove her point, Evelyn pulled out her phone, searched for a picture of Tye swinging a mallet, and held it up for Katie to see. “He’s not skinny anymore.” Katie grabbed the phone and zoomed in on the picture, exclaiming, “Wow, that’s one fine-looking man. That’s T, Michael’s friend?” Their excited voices summoned more Mahoneys. June appeared at the door in her pink nightgown, her hair gracefully pulled back in a ponytail. She looked young for 68, Evelyn thought. I hope I still look that young when I am her age. June was followed by Michael’s other sister, Kathleen, and his brother Ed’s wife, Olivia, all descending the stairs and onto the patio in their colorful pajamas.
Before Evelyn could speak, Katie summarized the case for the assembled court of family opinion: “She has met a guy, and that guy is T, Michael’s friend, but he is not skinny anymore. He looks like Superman, and Michael is in her head telling her to find his journal and turn to page 52. That’s all.” There was a pause so long that the sound of birds beginning their morning songs filled the silence. The mention of Michael’s name wrapped a blanket of emotional reverence over his family.
It was Michael’s mother, June, who irreverently interrupted the reverence by asking Evelyn, “Are you all right? You look like you have been up all night?” Evelyn looked down at her clothes, and noticed she was in the same outfit she had on the day before. “Yes, I am OK, just confused.” Kathleen, the health nut and avid runner, the tallest of Michael’s sisters with a commanding presence, jumped into the conversation, saying enthusiastically, “I don’t remember Michael ever having a journal. Did he tell you where to find it?” Her questions went unanswered as Scott, Michael's father, appeared at the door fully dressed, asking, “Is everything all right?” June replied forcefully, pointing to Scott and then to the kitchen, “We are going to need more coffee. As Scott disappeared into the house, June continued. “Now tell me, dear, how did you meet Tye, and where have you been all night?”
Evelyn paused, trying to find the least guilty version of the events, and then began the story of how she was headed to their house but had second thoughts because she felt she had failed to find a father for the boys. Her husband’s family listened with concern and looks of disbelief. She had lied to the boys, telling them June was sick and they would have to return home. Within minutes, she had a flat tire. Just then, Scott appeared at the door with four mismatched, colorful cups of coffee, perched on a melamine tray. Confidently, he pushed the door shut with his foot and headed for the group assembled at the round patio table. Setting the tray down, he asked Evelyn, “Didn’t you just put new tires on your car?”
Evelyn continued her story, brushing aside Scott’s comment about the tires. She began to relay the events of the previous afternoon, pausing to think about the impact of her words. Tye had stopped to help her and showed the boys how to change a tire. After the tire was changed, she decided it was too late to go home, so she headed to the festival to get the boys something to eat. As they were walking, the boys started yelling and ran ahead through the crowd. She frantically searched for them. Pausing her story, she turned to June and asked, "Did you ever lose a kid in a store and have that feeling of fear and despair?" June quickly responded, "Oh, yes, and I can pray fast when that happens." She continued the story about how she had broken through the crowd and found them hugging Tye.
"I asked him what he was doing there and if he was stalking me. He said, 'no' and then 'yes.' I was furious, but he explained that I had never given him my name, and he just wanted to know who I was. He had come to the festival for a class reunion but had second thoughts and was returning to New York. When he talked, he was discussing his life, but it was my life he was explaining," Evelyn said furtively. “One thing led to another, and we had burgers together. He won the boys some stuffed dogs, and we said goodnight.”
Katie interrupted the story by saying. “Show them the pictures of Tye smashing the mallet.” Evelyn picked up her phone, found the picture, and handed the phone to Katie, continuing to recount the evening. “We got back here, and I could not sleep. He had given me his phone number, and I texted him. We met up and talked the whole night. Now I am back, and Michael is in my head with this journal thing.” Scott asked the group, “Did Michael ever have a journal?” The sisters and sister-in-law shook their heads, “No,” in unison. June paused and put her hand up to her head before asking Kathleen, “Dear, would you go in and pull down the attic door? Right by the door, at the top of the stairs, there’s a cardboard box with Michael’s name on it. I saved a few of his childhood things for Benjamin and Andrew.”
As Kathleen departed on her task, Katie loyally and skillfully deflected questions about how Evelyn could talk for hours. Just as the deflections seemed to lose their effect, Kathleen appeared at the patio door, looking pale and shaky. She was holding a book with the word “Journal” written on the front in Michael's shaky teenage handwriting. With shaking hands, she handed the book to Evelyn as the group stared in shock and anticipation. Evelyn hesitated. Katie, noticing her uncertainty, assured her, “I will read it.” Carefully, Katie turned the pages, each purposely numbered, stopping at page 52. After glancing at the text, she began reading aloud, “T and I were out fishing, and the fish weren’t biting, so I said to T, ‘I want a wife who will be a partner for life.’ T said something so beautiful I had to come home and write it down: ‘I want a wife who will walk beside me in life—not in front or behind, but beside me. I want a beautiful butterfly that will fly free and always return to me as we grow together each day until we grow old, holding each other every day of our lives.”
A long silence followed, broken by Katie, who looked up from the book and said matter-of-factly, “Michael is telling you something.” Tears streamed down Evelyn's face. She asked June, “How is this possible?” June turned to her and replied, “We don’t always know what God has in store for us. We receive what we pray for, but it may not always be what we expect. Nothing is set in stone. These things are guideposts in your journey. You decide what is best for you and the boys. We are here to support you in any way we can.” Scott interjected, “Do you think you should share this with Tye? He must remember saying that to Michael.” Evelyn wiped her tears away as Katie held her in a comforting embrace. Evelyn responded, “I don’t know. I don’t even know where he is.” Olivia, the quiet sister-in-law, joined the conversation in her gentle manner, “You mentioned you texted him last night. Why don’t you reach out and ask where he is and if he is alright?” Evelyn turned to June, her face still red from crying, and asked, “What do you think I should do?” June responded firmly, “It’s not my place to tell you what to do. I believe it’s important to get the facts out, and I prefer to have everyone on the same page.” Sensing what she needed to do, Evelyn picked up her phone and headed back into the house, through the front door, and onto the front sidewalk, where she could be alone. Her hands were shaking. She looked at the phone and found Tye’s number. This time, she needed an immediate response and decided to call. The phone rang just once before he picked up. She had not had enough time to prepare.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Tye said. Evelyn didn’t waste any time getting to the point: “Where are you?” He coyly responded, “Where would you like me to be?” His humor and the nature of his response both annoyed Evelyn and put her at ease. “They want to see you.” Tye quickly and more forcefully replied, “Oh, no. I can’t do that. I haven’t seen them for so long, and I would have to explain Michael’s death. No, no, no, I am not doing that.” Evelyn felt empowered, saying, “You don’t have anything to explain. If you are going to prioritize your fear about Michael’s death ahead of our relationship, then it is good to know that now.” There was a long pause. So long that she looked at the phone to see if the call was ongoing. Tye had heard her say ‘relationship’ and his defenses quickly defected. Putting the phone back to her ear, she heard him say, “I am at the little corner store about three blocks from you.” Evelyn paused, thinking about what he had said, and asked, “You have been at the corner store for three hours?” He quickly replied, “No, I went to change clothes, so I have only been here about an hour.” Sensing that Tye was waiting to see her, she continued, “Well, you probably need a break from that store. I am standing in the yard waiting for you.” He thought to himself, “You fool. You are trapped by a trap you set yourself.” He replied to her with shaky bravado, “I will drive to see you, but I am not coming in.”
As Tye’s pickup approached, Evelyn felt both excited and terrified. Excited to see him again, and terrified that he would not go in to see the Mahoneys. She didn’t wait for him to exit the pickup. Jumping in through the passenger door, she grabbed his face and kissed him. He sighed, and she kissed him again, saying, “You are such a good boy; I need you to do this for me, for you, and for Michael.” He replied, “I will do it for you,” before kissing her and opening the pickup door. Grabbing her hand, they headed to the front door. As they entered, they found a lot of Mahoneys in the living room. Everyone was out of their pajamas and dressed in casual clothes. He could tell they were waiting for him, and for a big man, he was shaking.
June sensed his unease and hugged him. Scott followed June, and just as Scott finished his bear hug, Tye heard Andrew and Benjamin excitedly calling, “Tye, Tye.” The boys slammed into Tye, knocking him backwards onto the sofa. It was an unbelievable scene: Andrew and Benjamin on either side of Tye, kissing him and saying, “We love you, and we missed you.” Tye seized control of the situation and said, “I missed you, too. Have we brushed our teeth yet and washed our faces?” The boys replied, “No, sir,” in unison. He said, “I will wait for you.” Andrew was the first to respond, “Yes, sir,” followed by Benjamin, “Yes, sir,” as they scrambled off and ran into the bath. Scott, in disbelief, looked at June to see if she had seen the respect the boys showed towards Tye.
Evelyn began, “Tye was going to his class reunion and stopped to help me with my flat tire.” There was a long silence as each person waited for someone to say something. Tye broke the silence, saying that he lived in New York and worked for a publishing company. He came back for a class reunion, but when he got close to town, he changed his mind and was heading back to New York when he found Evelyn by the side of the road with a flat tire. The entire family listened, trying to piece the events together in their minds. Just as Katie was about to speak, Evelyn blurted out a little too loudly, “I have a devil to release.”
Most of the assembled group were awake but not fully awake yet. Evelyn’s bold statement jarred everyone to attention. She continued, “I want to apologize for being nasty to all of you over the years. You have been so kind and supportive: all of you. I feel pressure that eyes are watching me, wanting to know why I can’t find a man and why the boys don’t have a father. It stops today. I am releasing this guilt and doubt.” June responded, “Darling, we love you. There is no pressure; we want what is best for you.”
Evelyn turned to Tye, punching him in the shoulder gently and saying, “I did it. I released my devil. Now you release yours.” He looked at her with disbelief, saying, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” She replied, “Well, big guy, tell them that you killed Michael or whatever it is that haunts you.” He put his hands over his face, muttering, “I can’t believe you said that.” The entire family was assembled now, and the mention of Michael’s name brought their attention to bear on a discomfited guest, stammering to begin. Without raising his head, he began with his admission of guilt that had haunted him for six years. “It’s my fault Michael died. We were on patrol, and the two of us were on point. There was heavy automatic gunfire everywhere as we reached the edge of a building. The noise was so great I couldn’t hear Michael reply as I told him to stay back. As I stuck my head out, gunfire was coming from three locations. I pushed Michael down to protect him. Just as I did, I was shot through the side. I looked down to see blood pouring out, and as I turned around, I found that the bullet had gone through me and into Michael. I grabbed him. I pulled open his vest and saw that the bullet had gone directly into his heart. I held him, and said, ‘No, no, this can’t be happening.’ I felt for his pulse, and I could not find it. It is my fault. If I had not pushed him down, he might still be alive. I knelt over him, trying to revive him, but the gunfire was so heavy that I was hit twice more, once in the leg and once in the arm. I dragged him back out of the gunfire. I am so sorry.”
Scott interrupted the shock and awe, saying, “You didn’t kill Michael, son; the war killed Michael. I read the report, and it stated that you carried Michael’s body two hundred yards to a helicopter, being shot twice as you carried him. Is that true?” Tye looked at Scott through teary eyes and said, Yes, I loved Michael so much.” Feeling Tye’s remorse and sensing an opportunity long delayed, Scott said, “I have a devil to release.” The group looked at Scott with disbelief, wondering if he was serious or making a joke. Ed, Michael’s brother, said, “This is like a sad, sad reality show.” Undeterred, Scott continued, speaking to Tye, “You had great parents; they just didn’t live long enough. When Maude died, I knew what I had to do: adopt you. I didn’t do it. I failed my faith, and I failed you. There were ten of us. I should have known the Lord would provide for eleven or even a hundred, but I was weak. I am so sorry.” Scott got up and hugged Tye.
Evelyn yawned, and June said, “I bet neither of you has slept in the last twenty-four hours.” Scott, sensing the urgency, said, “We are taking the boys and everyone else out for croissants and coffee down at the festival. There is an art show, and we won’t be back for two or three hours. Why don’t you sleep here on the sofa, Tye? Evelyn, you have a bed that is beckoning you.” There was the bustling of a crowd gathering kids and bags, and then there was silence. Tye pulled off his boots and lay on the sofa until he heard the last car door slam, rising and gently opening Evelyn’s bedroom door, pulling his shirt off, and crawling into bed beside her. She sighed, putting her head on his chest and closed her eyes.