“Three or four weeks?” Wyatt shrugs. “Not sure.”
“That’s about right.” His grandfather walks up to us, green eyes somber. “We had a vet come to the house last week.”
I rise up, children on all sides of me as I ask, “A normal vet?”
“No, I was surprised to find they don’t treat all animals. Birds are a different challenge altogether, it turns out. He taught me a lot about these li’l guys. Should have had him here earlier, but I thought I’d figure it out. And I did. For the most part.”
The similarities between Wyatt and his grandfather don’t escape my attention. I’ve heard May’s stories, so many stories about her son who is standing before me now with white hair and some of the attributes his father had. It gives me a feeling of familiarity and comfort with Michael Cocker that I wouldn’t normally feel.
So when he produces an envelope from his pocket and walks up to me, I don’t feel surprised. “Diana, I found this in my mother’s things.”
My fingers float out as I read my name gently scrawled in May’s cursive handwriting. Turning the envelope over I pause. Gaze drifting up to Michael, I ask, “You opened it?”
“I didn’t know it was for you. I thought it was an old letter. Not present day. So many of her belongings were from her youth. Then I read it and realized. My apologies.” Turning his back to Wyatt, he quiets his volume to warn me, “Read it alone.”
I watch him walk away, and Wyatt and Nathan come around the fountain, my new boyfriend asking, “What’d he just say to you?”
“May wrote me a letter.”
“Open it up.”
Nathan mutters, “Grandpa already did.”
“It’s for me.” I hold it closer. “Can I read it first?”
Wyatt frowns, “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
CHAPTER 37
DIANA
With all of my introductions, and the back-to-back conversations they begin, I haven’t had a free moment to open this letter.
I didn’t bring a bag with me, key left in a secret hiding spot back home and lipstick in my pocket, so the envelope is burning a hole in my left hand.
Wyatt hands me two plates so he can serve us up. He takes my envelope, glancing to it, and I almost snatch it back.
He eyes me. “Why are you so weird about this thing?”
“Weird?”
“Yeah, you’re acting strange.”
Because I’m wondering why your grandfather would say that. And I remember May’s warning about you!
“It’s special to me.”
He nods, accepting this, and fills up both plates like I’m as big as he is. We move down the line and he asks, “What salad?”
“Kale.”
“You got it.”
“Do you think I’m Nathan?”
He blinks at me, then to the plates. “Too much.”
“Li’l bit.”
“Nathan!” His brother walks over and he says, “Take one of those. I overdid it.”
Nate chuckles, “You don’t think Diana wants five ribs, three corn on the cobs, and two corn breads heaped with chili on top?”
“I was tempted,” I smile.
Wyatt calls down, “Elijah! Make yourself useful, Mr. D.C., and pass up a fresh plate for my girlfriend.”
The new Senator smirks, raising his voice to call back, “First I have to believe you have a girlfriend.”
A lot of people laugh at this. Too many. The gold flecks in Wyatt’s eyes burn hot, but he says nothing. Now I really want that envelope back.
“Hey family! How ‘bout you put just a little bit of everything on that plate as it’s passed down. Help me out since this line might riot if I try to go backwards.”
Everyone is happy to help. One after the other places something new on my plate until it arrives looking pretty much perfect.
“This is why we’re Cockers!” Wyatt grins before calling to Elijah, “We have each other’s backs, and never make fun of each other.”
Elijah calls out, “I’ll agree with the first part, but the second?” He glances around, then shouts, “Fuck if we don’t!”
Every Cocker, even the kids, yells in unison, “Language!!!”
I was told about the inside joke — that Grams would always reprimand family with that one word, every time someone accidentally, or purposefully, swore in her presence.
Those who aren’t family, look around, confused by what must be an inside joke with how much laughter has broken out. The laughter gets instantly replaced by sadness and nostalgia, conversations taking a moment to start back up.
But it made Wyatt’s shoulders relax, and the fire is gone from his eyes.
The brothers sit together on my right. Wren is on my left, her baby on her lap, husband and quarterback Eric Cocker chowing down while he talks to his brother, Ethan, who’s sitting across from him with his family. To Wyatt’s right, past Nate, is their cousin Caden, the surgeon who does indeed look like Wyatt.
Wren asks me, “Diana, did Grams ever tell you why she said ‘Language?’ like that?”
I shake my head, “No, I wish I’d known about it when she was alive. Nobody swears at Silver Linings really. Wyatt shared the tradition with me on the way over. He was looking forward to someone sparking it today.”
On the table is my envelope.
Forgotten by him.
Not by me.
I slowly slide it onto my lap. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”
She nods, and Wyatt, mid-conversation with Nate and Caden, distractedly touches my hip as I rise up for the perfect escape.
As I pass his grandparents, my eyes lock with Michael’s. He sees what I’m holding and returns to the conversation. I blink with surprise, and sadness melts my heart. On the empty bench to his left are May’s two floral cushions, their owner forever absent.
Up the outdoor porch steps I go, mind preoccupied with what she may have written to me.
Inside the kitchen I come face to face with Nicholas Cocker as he reaches into the refrigerator for a beer. Seeing me, he pauses, dark brown
