Chapter Text
Dicky came home for 2 weeks in July. That was it.
He flew down, bought a load of boxes, and rented a truck for the trip back.
By the time Jack arrived 10 days later, he had made over 20 pies and packed up his entire life in Georgia.
Dicky’s graduation party, the family’s 4th of July celebration, final visits with MooMaw and a few others, and before she knew it, her only baby was all moved out and giving her a tearful good-bye.
He said he loved her.
He said he was going to miss her.
Just not, apparently, enough to stay.
She had sniffled and choked up and gotten all teary-eyed with him but held it together as they drove down the street, waving until the truck turned a corner, and then she had gone inside, staggered upstairs, and collapsed on his bed for a good hard cry.
After the pillowcase was thoroughly soaked, she’d wiped her eyes, blown her nose, and looked around.
Well. He hadn’t taken everything.
Old clothes that were too worn out to donate were piled up in one corner. There were still old school papers overflowing one of his desk drawers. Random ephemera he hadn’t valued enough to take with still scattered the shelves.
Along with his skating and high school hockey trophies.
And nearly all of his skating medals.
Suzanne frowned. Dicky had mentioned once that he was worrying about measuring up to Jack, about being captain 2 years after him, about proving his worth when Jack had a MVP trophy called the Calder and a MVP trophy called the Conn Smythe and a Stanley Cup championship ring and Lord knows what else. Yet he’d left all his awards and trophies behind.
She pulled out her phone and sent off a text.
Jack must have been driving because the reply came moments later. Jack said I should take them with and display them but he won’t put any of his up so it wouldn’t be fair.
And a minute later. Besides, they’re all from a long time ago.
Another minute. They’d just be sitting in a box taking up space.
5 minutes. Sorry I left them for you to deal with, Mama. Do whatever you think is best.
And wasn’t that just the way?
Dicky goes off to college leaving her with a quiet house and an empty bedroom.
And leaves again and again, each time sparking more questions from the neighbors about whether he’s going to “do the right thing” by coming back home and settling down in Madison after graduation or if “those people” up north were going to convince him he was too good for family and "traditional values" and keep him away forever.
And then refuses to even come back for the summer.
And then tells the whole wide world that he and Jack are in love before even telling his mama he’s seeing someone.
And then left her to deal with all the score of questions from friends and neighbors with no warning and no time to prepare and almost no answers.
It wasn’t until days later that she found out they had already celebrated their one year anniversary, were strong and stable and committed, that this was the first rash thing they’d done and not a fling or sudden impulse for either of them, that the rich and fancy millionaire athlete Jack Zimmermann loved and adored her little Dicky and was absolutely dedicated to him.
That would have been nice to throw in the face of that awful neighbor who thought Jack was using her son as just a “fun time” and that horrid lady in the grocery store who implied her baby was a “puck bunny” who threw himself at wealthy athletes and led them astray.
Do what she thinks best indeed.
No.
No, this isn’t her. This isn’t right.
Her little Dicky is all grown up now and she…. she has to let him go. Not be a bitter ol’ sourpuss because he has his own life now and this isn’t his room anymore.
No, it will always be his room.
He can always come home.
He’s never coming home.
Not to stay.
She has to do something with this room, and soon, or she’s going to sit in here day after day surrounded by all the emptiness and left-behind pieces and never move on.
She has to be proactive.
She heads downstairs and starts putting together a pie crust.