Chapter Text
Lureen hadn’t really been shocked to receive a call from Ennis Del Mar. In fact, part of her had almost expected it. Her hand still on the phone’s handle, cigarette between her shaking lips, she took a deep breath and shut her eyes, trying the regain some of the cool, collected behaviour she’d adopted a mere minute ago. She needed to, had to be strong. Especially with Bobby in the house.
The boy had been allowed to come back from his boarding school in order to be there for his grieving family, much to his grandfather’s dismay. L.D. Newsome had tried to prevent it from happening, but Lureen had found she quite wanted her son by her side, the house seeming so empty now that Jack wasn’t there. Nevertheless, she didn’t miss him…it was simply hard —no, not hard, odd— seeing the house so quiet, so empty of old, dusty rodeo awards, of beer-stained couches, of hilariously unfunny jokes and loud chuckles, of father-son in law rivalry, of not so discreet post cards, of adultery and of unspoken doubts, of optimism, of kind words, of real talent for farm-equipment selling, of rugged, cowboyly yet childlike beauty, of daily shaves caused by an insistence to keep a clean mustache, of genuine respect, of repeated absences, of Jack. Lureen needed her son by her side, not because she was mourning for her late husband, but because she could not work in the empty house, not when everywhere her eyes laid on, she remembered there used to be something, some little part of Jack.
Lureen allowed her hand to move back from the phone, reaching for the cigarette which was threatening to fall from her lips and onto the ground, leaving a permanent burn mark on the carpet. Two of her fingers secured it, and she blew out a small cloud of smoke. She half-smiled at the remembrance of what she had just said on the phone. The lie could’ve been executed better, after all she’d came up with it herself and had managed to fool all of her ranch neighbours and friends. No, that phone call was different. Something in her had wanted the man Jack had cheated on her with to know the real circumstances of his death. Whether that something was hatred and desire for him to feel guilty, or empathy because they had loved the same man…
Before the thought of having ‘loved’ Jack could reach the conscious part of her brain, she jumped to her feet and decided to find her son. It didn’t take long, as Bobby was sat at the living room table, his gaze focused on the football match on the television. So focused that he didn’t notice her as she stood beside him, carefully studying his face. Bobby had grown up considerably, the features of the child slowly fading into those of a young man. As much as everyone liked to ignore it, including and especially Lureen, he looked more and more like Jack as the years flew by. His chubby, childlike cheeks were getting thinner, his body taller and slenderer, and he must’ve hardly fit into his bed anymore.
She took a seat next to him, making him slightly jump, but he eased down in a mere second, as he spot his mother. “Hi, mama.” Bobby greeted her with a warm, yet tired smile. She smiled back fondly. “How are you doin’?”Lureen grabbed her son’s hand, her brows forrowing in worry. She knew how much Bobby had admired his father. Besides, he didn’t know how Jack’s life had ended, or why. The young man briefly licked his lips to hide his discomfort, and shrugged, albeit too slowly for it to feel natural. He opened his lips slightly, ready to say something, before changing his mind. “Bobby…” She breathed out, her grip gently tightening around his hand. “D’you want to talk about your daddy?” Bobby frowned to the mention of his father, the corner of his lips twitching. “I can’t understand he’s gone.”He muttered after a while, looking down shamefully. “I keep wanting a tell ‘im about something, or ask him a question, and then…then I remember he’s gone.”
That’s when Lureen realised. The seventeen year old boy had been blessed —or cursed, depending on how you looked at it— with the ignorance of death. Up until now, Bobby had never known people whose lives had ended. Of course he would be confused and scared; Lureen damned herself for not realising how much of a distress her son could actually be in. “’T feels like nothin’ ain’t gonna be well ever again.” He continued, his voice not louder than a whisper. His shoulders were shaking, and he brought a hand to his right eye to wipe away some invisible tear with a sigh. “Oh, honey...” Lureen opened her arms and got closer to her son, looking at him with a sad smile, quietly proposing to hug him. Bobby slightly nodded, albeit he didn’t move towards her, and she pulled him into an embrace. Softly kissing his temple while stroking the back of his hair like she did when he was younger, she shut her eyes. “Why did he have a die, mama? He was still so young…”Hearing the sob coming from her son’s throat, whatever was left of her heart shattered into small pieces. She frowned to herself, pulling her son closer like she would never let go.
And then she felt guilty. Not for Jack, at least she didn’t think...no, not for Jack, for Bobby. As much as Lureen had despised Jack for betraying her, Bobby had admired him for what he thought Jack was. A hero, a man who stood up for what he believed was right. A real man. The thought almost made her lips crack into a cruel, uncharacteristic, ironic smile. If only he’d known…
But she couldn’t tell him. That was the line not to cross. Her daddy had been awful clear about that, nobody had to know how Jack really died. Not even his son. Even if Bobby was seventeen, almost an adult, Lureen couldn’t bring herself to stain his daddy’s memory by sharing his dark secrets. “Sometimes..sometimes people die, an’ there’s no reason. It’s awfully unfair, but it’s the way it is.” Bobby snorted loudly, and she bit the inside of her lower lip. “What I’m tryin’ a say is…yer daddy was a good man.”She shut her eyes as she said it, her guts throbbing in pain, although she didn’t know if it was because it was a lie, or because it wasn’t. “He didn’t deserve what happened to ‘im, but it happened anyway. And…” Lureen trailed off, unsure of what she had wished to say next.
Her son tightened his pressure on her, gripping onto her for dear life, and she did the same. A drop of something cold touched the back of her shirt. They stayed there like this a while, pulled into a hug, quietly supporting each other. Lureen wanted to tell herself it was more her supporting Bobby, but she knew it wasn’t true. She needed her son just as much as he needed her.
“I got into a fight with the neighbour.” Bobby murmured, his eyes shutting as if it physically pained him to admit that to his mother. “He was…sayin’ things about daddy. Bad things.”Lureen tensed and pulled back, her hands stayed on her son’s shoulders. “What things?” She inquired, even though she already knew. He was quiet for a few seconds, not meeting her gaze. “That he married you for your money, that he was queer, that he…deserved a die.” Bobby clenched his fist, angry lines digging in the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t want a punch ‘im, but he was bein’ awfully mean, makin’ up things about daddy.”
Lureen looked away, unsure as to what her reaction should’ve been. She started to act offended and shocked, only it was too late. There’d been a moment when she hadn’t been, and Bobby had noticed it. A furrow in his brow pressed for her to explain herself. “What is it?” He voiced his concern, his tone shaky. “Mama, sometimes it feels like there’s somethin’ about daddy you’re all too afraid a tell me.”
Lureen must’ve appeared pained, because her son’s features softened, and so did his voice. “Mama, did he ever hurt you? I know he used a drink too much but I never thought…" She shook her head, her eyes shutting briefly to keep the tears inside. “No, no, he never…Not physically, never.” He took her hand into his, gently. “Mama…I’m old enough a know the truth now, even if it’s a hard one.” There was no keeping them inside, the tears came running down her cheeks and she damned herself for letting her son see her like this. “Yer daddy never laid a finger on me.”
She chuckled, albeit it was bitter, and didn’t contain an ounce of amusement. “God, Bobby, I hope for yer sake you never have a tell any of that stuff to children of yer own.” Bobby frowned in confusion, and opened his mouth as if he was about to say something. Lureen cut him off.
“He never laid a finger on me. Not after you were born anyway.” She looked away before adding in a whisper. “Not on me." He frowned even deeper, and for a second she was afraid she would have to explain it in clearer terms. But then his eyes widened, his mouth gaped open and his brows jerked up at the same time as his head. “You mean he…was unfaithful?"
That last word was simply a breath coming out of Bobby’s mouth, full with disbelief and disgust. Lureen took her hand back, nodding sadly. That was it. This was the line she couldn’t cross. She couldn’t tell him about Ennis, he was still too young. Maybe one day she would, but not now. "Now, Bobby…Yer daddy and me, we wasn’t happy together, I think you knew that. He wasn’t perfect, j’st like I ain’t perfect. He made mistakes, but he loved you, Bobby. More than ya think." Her son’s face was conflicted: the deep frown still rotating his eyebrows almost comically, while, at the same time, his slightly open mouth and the empathetic glint in his eyes. "Don’t hate yer daddy, not when he needs someone a keep his memory alive."
Lureen’s heart sank as she saw how pained Bobby was. Their hands met again, albeit this time the contact came from her part. "There’s somethin’ I haven’t said, mama. ‘T happened back in ‘81." She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. "Y’know I had trouble readin’. Still do, but…that year, ‘round May or June, Daddy sat me down and told me we had a find some sort a solution, ‘cause I couldn’t go to a doctor." Yes, she vaguely remembered that. Jack telling her their son was probably dyslexic or some other type of illness, that he needed to get help otherwise he wouldn’t be able to do anything of his life. Of course, Lureen had been defensive. There was no way her Bobby would be like that. The boy sighed and continued with a light chuckle. "He said ‘You don’t wanna have a rely on other people for bills, son, gotta do ‘em yerself’." Bobby imitated —pretty well, too— his father, and that got a snort out of Lureen. "Yup, that sure sounds like Jack." "’Think he knew some kids were laughin’ at me ‘bout the reading. The whole summer break, every day he’d sit down with me an’ try a help me learn. Said ‘t was the least he could do."
Bobby looked nostalgically at the table, on which both of them knew Jack used to sit for hours on end. It almost felt like Jack was staring back at them, in a way. And it was filled with this peaceful, calm spirit that they sat there in silence, looking at the memory of their late husband and father. Lureen could very easily imagine Jack, patiently helping his struggling son, gently pointing out mistakes and making jokes, promising Bobby that after one last sentence, yes, they could go out and drive the tractor. It pained her, that Jack never had this type of patience with her, and that she’d never helped her son in this way, or even acknowledged his struggles. It pained her, it was supposed to, but a fond smile creeped up across her lips as Jack messied up Bobby’s hair jokingly.
When she shook out of it, Bobby —the real one— was long gone. Her heart heavy, but also so much lighter than when she’d arrived some time before, Lureen let herself slide to the other end of the couch, where sat the phone. Her hand wandered over it, as if it were a dangerous animal, before picking it up and dialling a number slowly.
"Hello again, Mr Del Mar."