Buttons by Carol Greene

Author:Carol Greene [Greene, Carol]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781514480496
Publisher: Xlibris US
Published: 2016-04-08T04:00:00+00:00

It was dark when Dad pulled back into the driveway. The headlights spread out against the barn, curled around a corner, and streaked down the side to sniff out the roots of the grass growing beyond it.

All the way back she had looked out the window and watched the moon follow them home. All the way home she had tried to figure out if it was a good day or a bad day. She didn’t know if the picnic had done what she wanted it to do or not. She had to have time to think. To remember the whole picnic and look at it real slow.

As soon as she could, she went to her room. The kids were already spread all over the living room watching T.V. Mom was starting dinner. Dad was in his room, probably reading.

She flopped down on her bed. She took the bobby pins from her hair and set them on the dresser with her glasses. She punched her pillow until it was right and settled back to remember.

First she thought about Dad. He didn’t talk much on the way there. But he never talked much. He did whistle, though. It was a slow, clear sound that wandered around never really turning into a song. At the river he helped Mom spread out the blanket and laughed about something. She was already trying to keep the kids away so she didn’t know what he had laughed about. But she knew Dad’s laugh. He didn’t open his mouth very much and the sound came from deep in his throat and never lasted long enough for anyone to join in. He had laughed, all right.

She saw him lean against the tree. She saw Mom take the food out of the sacks and place it all, just so, on the blanket. Then one of the kids hollered and the next time she could look, Dad had a piece of grass in his mouth and Mom was handing him some goodies from the picnic basket. Even from where she stood, she could tell he was surprised. He pushed the basket with his toe and moved his head from side to side to look at it. He cut a hunk of salami and stuck it in his cheek. He held the olives up to the sun and shook his head. But, when Mom handed him the M&M’s, something changed. He stopped chewing and kept his eyes on the M&M bag, like he was reading it. Mom patted his ankle. He pushed himself to his feet and walked away.

She didn’t see him come back. He just appeared, leaning against the tree again. But after that, when she got close enough, she could see his eyes were far away and sad. The way he looked at the kids—even her—was different. As if he saw them, really saw them, for the first time. Like on T.V. when the man is going off to war and, just before he gets in the car, or

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