Brokeback one-shot. Ennis and Alma happen to run into each other in town one day.
Ca. 1,600 words, firmly movie canon-based, rated G. No warnings.
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me, but to Annie Proulx, Diana Ossana, Larry McMurtry and Focus Features. I make no profit of any kind except for the joy and inspiration I find in thinking and writing of Jack and Ennis and their lives.
Chance Encounter
After that fateful Thanksgiving, even when Ennis started seeing his daughters again every other weekend, he and Alma managed to avoid meeting each other or talking on the phone.
Soon enough Alma had the new baby to take care of, and then quickly became pregnant once more. She had abundant excuses to let the girls arrange the meet-ups with their father themselves without much interference from her, except for her giving approval of their plans. She didn’t have the heart to withhold that, the girls adored their father so much and he did after all pay the child support steadily. Nevertheless she found herself asking them to stay home to help her out on more than one occasion when they would otherwise likely have seen Ennis.
Her vague fear that they might experience something inappropriate around him evaporated over time, but her sense of resentment had long since taken firm hold and kept festering within her.
For the girls’ sake she didn’t want them to ever see Ennis for what he was, how he’d let their mother down and cheated on her and sinned against God’s law. Yet she still thought Ennis was getting away with it all too easy, what with the girls loving him so unconditionally. The way she saw it, he’d chosen some … man… over her, over the wellbeing and happiness of his own family. He surely didn’t deserve their affection.
Ennis always collected the girls and dropped them off outside their house, never again passing the doorstep. Alma did occasionally peek behind the curtains, checking on how Ennis was doing, how he looked. She had worried he might take to drinking too heavily, but it seemed he held it together. Kept working, kept up his weekend contact with the girls, remembered their birthdays, had a care for their needs. He’d even found himself a woman at last, a surprisingly good-looking woman, in fact. Watching from the kitchen window, Alma felt her lips twist into a bitter and pitying little sneer. Much good may he do you, pretty lady, she thought sardonically.
---
In this way the months passed. Ennis and Alma managed to keep their distance for the longest time, but eventually and inevitably they ran into each other at last.
Alma had her baby son sleeping in his carriage, had two year old Billy Jr. sitting on top of it too. She was in a hurry, turned the hardware store corner and nearly crashed into Ennis, coming in the opposite direction, head down, shoulders hunched, hat shading his eyes as always.
Reflexively they both looked up at the near-impact. When their eyes met it was too late; - they could hardly pretend they hadn’t seen each other.
Alma drew a breath.
“Hello, Ennis”, she said neutrally, carefully.
“Alma, hnnn….llo,” he mumbled, his gaze leaving hers. He looked down at the boys.
“It’s been a long time. How are you?” Alma queried stiltedly. Her face seemed stiff, her tongue fumbling to produce its everyday sounds.
He shrugged. “Well…”
They were wary and uncomfortable, tentative, evaluating their relative position, judging the situation. Alma still felt the shock and fear of his violent Thanksgiving outburst in her very bones. She kept the baby carriage firmly in front of her, the innocent little boys unknowingly creating an inviolable zone between the two chance-met adults.
Ennis hardly knew where to look, what to say, knowing that she knew, knew about him, about him and Jack, had known a long time. She thought it was nasty, of course she did. Had told him as much. She probably thought about that right now, here out on the pavement in front of God and everybody.
Oblivious to the tension, the little boy sitting on the baby carriage beamed and let loose a loud burst of sounds in Ennis’s direction. Most of it unintelligible, but there were a few random words thrown in. A chubby little fellow, very like his father. Monroe must be real proud. Ennis softened his stance and smiled despite himself.
“Fine-lookin’ little guy you’ve got there,” he offered, still not looking up. He smiled at Billy, and peered into the carriage, saw the scrunched-up face of the sleeping baby. “Fine-lookin’, good kids, both a them.”
Alma bit her lip and relaxed a little. Of course he’d be the same old tongue-tied Ennis. He wasn’t planning on taking up where they'd left off. He probably wanted to forget that scene of rage and recrimination just as desperately as she did.
His praise of the boys went straight to her mother’s heart, right past the tempting quip she could have delivered about having a husband able to support them now, and brought to mind the reason that another one of her children had to be happy.
“Guess I should thank you for that birthday gift to Junior,” she said. “Those bluebirds fit her real well. They are very pretty.”
He glanced up quickly, searchingly, a flash from under his hat brim, then took a step backwards, studying the ground. He looked slightly embarrassed, pleased, - and sad too.
She had wondered whether he’d possibly had his new woman pick out that special gift of feminine jewelry. The look on his face provided the answer to that question, though; - he had certainly made the choice himself, had striven to find something exactly right to please his eldest.
“Yeah…. I saw she wore them last Sunday, guess she maybe liked them, huh?” he replied wistfully.
Alma was surprised. Junior had worn those bluebirds every day for nearly a month. She loved them and showed the world as much, there could be no doubt about it. No need to ask! But of course, what with the recent roundup disruption and Junior’s duties about the house, Ennis hadn’t seen his daughter in a month.
Alma herself had become so used now to the constant hustle and bustle of her own household, Monroe, the girls and their activities, coming and going, the baby and the toddler craving their mother’s attention at all times. She hadn’t really had the inclination, nor the time, to reflect much on how Ennis had been faring these last couple of years. In fact, after that dreadful Thanksgiving she’d schooled herself to avoid thinking of him and what he might be doing. Much better not to know. And her memories of their married days were still too painful, too fraught with the disappointed bitterness of hopes dashed and dreams shattered. She’d loved him so much, once, had so innocently thought it’d last for ever!
Well, she’d grown up to reality soon enough.
But he did love his daughters. Their daughters. She could not deny that. And his wistful tone re-opened her eyes to an obvious truth she’d not lately consciously cared to consider.
With sudden clarity, she knew that he was lonely. Bone-deep, mute loneliness seemed to radiate from his guarded frame and downcast eyes, the worn boots, the scruffy old jacket and beat-up hat, the blackened nails on his work-worn hands.
Whatever he had done to her, he’d done worse to himself, she realized.
She had a good and decent life now, while he had cut himself off from life in many ways. He probably still came alive for those mysteriously sinful fishing trips, but they were only a few days or weeks out of each long and lonely year. Instinctively, Alma felt sure that the pretty lady-friend couldn’t do a thing to fill the lonely void of Ennis’s everyday life.
Suddenly, just like that, she let go of her long-nursed resentment and anger. New emotions flooded her heart, ousting the time-worn bitterness, the ingrained dissatisfaction and sense of betrayal. Emotions she’d not expected to ever entertain for him after their strained and unhappy marriage came to an end. She regarded him with understanding, kindness and honest compassion.
There was nothing she could do for him now, nothing that would seem right to either one of them, but she finally felt at peace with the disappointments of their past. The present was a new day. Finally the hurt truly lay behind her. That was a burden off her shoulders, a weight off her heart, and she gratefully acknowledged as much to herself.
She took a step forward and reached out, Billy-boy staring up with curiosity at her sudden movement. She reached past the baby carriage and placed her free hand lightly on her ex-husband’s arm.
“Those earrings mean a lot to Junior,” she said. “Junior loves you, you know. Both the girls do. Never forget that. You’ve done well being their father.”
She drew breath. There was nothing more she could think of to say. She nodded, and set the carriage in motion.
“Goodbye, Ennis. You take care of yourself now,” she said kindly, walking away from him, her steps lighter than before. She inexplicably felt like singing, and crying, and laughing, all at once.
---
Ennis looked after her. He closed his eyes and still felt her light touch on his arm. You’ve done well… You’ve done well…. He sighed. But the joy of hearing those few words could not be denied. Hearing them from her. He’d not done right by Alma. It wasn’t her fault that there could be no-one, no-one but Jack for him, ever.
He was aware that Alma had just reached out to him in reconciliation, reached out freely across the chasm of her bitterness and his shameful secret. She’d even offered him what acceptance she had to give.
This brief encounter on a dusty street corner… it was a momentous event for both of them. A moment to remember.
He resumed his walk down the street towards his truck. His steps, like hers, were a fraction lighter and surer than before.