A road check, a hug, and you're alone

You do a little road check for Brian on his buddy's RV as he tells you about the roundabout trip to deliver it to a new owner.

"Yeah, they went on a couple of big road trips," Brian said. "But she was done after that, and so he's selling it."

It's pretty solid looking. Spiffed up a little for the sales photos, got a fresh wash and wax. but it's gonna get some dust and bugs from the route Brian and Mary have planned out. You squint at the front tires and curl your lip.

"Problem?" Brian asks.

"Front end alignment a little off, watch it doesn't pull to one side. Should be okay for one trip."

"Right."

"Goddamn Brian, I wish you'd stayed with Mom," you say.

"Love you too, Deenie," he says. He meets your frown with a smile. "No foolin', I hear you."

"Yeah." You shake your head. "I had a guy tell me that my love language was 'more!'"

"Nothin' wrong with that, except 'more!' is Mary's love language too." Brian shrugs. "C'mon up off there and give me a hug."

You barely think of Brian when he's out of sight, him at Mary's or driving a long distance route, then you away in the Service, but here he is and you don't want to let him go.

"Aw Deens," he says, "You make me feel more like a dad than Shasta and Sarah. If you were this strong back then, you mighta won."

"Drive safe. I want more hugs."

I might have won.

Mary comes out and kisses your cheek. "God bless you, Deenie, I'm so happy you're back home, and that it's you watching our place. I told all my angels to watch over you."

A whole house full of angels.

And they're rolling down the long driveway to the county road, they turn the corner and they're gone.

And you're alone.

A wind sweeps up the valley and makes the leaves flutter with a rattling whoosh.