For Them, We Must

The mother needed, the mother deserved.

Oakley was quiet as she drove down the dirt path that led to the cemetery on the Reservation. Kayce had been right when he said Oakley had only been out here once. She parked the truck and looked over at Tate who was in the passenger seat next to her.

"Do you want me to wait here or come with you?" Oakley asked gently.

"Uh...you can wait here," Tate looked at her before climbing out.

Oakley watched him slowly walk down the pathway and then cross over to where she knew Monica's gravestone was. Tate stood for a few seconds before he sat down on the ground. Oakley took a deep breath as she waited in the truck, pulling her seatbelt off.

It was a sunny day, despite the cold wind still blowing outside. Oakley couldn't remember the last time she'd been on the Reservation. After Monica's death, Oakley had been the biggest champion of Tate still having part of his life out here. Tried to keep him in school out here, but eventually, things faded. The weeks between visits grew longer and longer. A year after the twins were born, Monica's father passed away which caused an even bigger absence of Tate out here.

Oakley looked to the left and could only see the rolling hills leading south from the Reservation. Everything looked dead still, a few patches of snow and ice scattered about. It looked cold and hard, not helping Oakley's guilt at all. She looked back at where Tate was sitting. He was facing away so Oakley couldn't see if he was talking or not.

"What are you saying, Tot?" Oakley asked gently out loud.

Tate stayed out there for almost an hour. Oakley was going to have to call him due to the cold, but suddenly Tate stood up off the ground. He made his way back over to the truck but came to the driver's side instead. Oakley rolled her window down as he stood next to her.

"Hey," Oakley said softly.

"Hey," Tate looked at her. "You wanna come say hi?"

Oakley didn't answer for a second. Did she want to?

"Are you sure?" Oakley asked.

"Yeah," Tate nodded.

Oakley rolled up her window and turned the truck off before getting out. She followed Tate over to the gravestone and stood next to him. Oakley didn't know what she needed to do but stood quietly. Looking over, she saw Tate's eyes watery but not necessarily sad.

"What do you think she'd say to you?" Tate asked, his voice a little shaky.

"Say to me?" Oakley asked him. "Your mom?"

Tate nodded.

"Oh, I don't know, Tate," Oakley took a deep breath. "Probably tell me everything I've done wrong with trying to help raise you."

Oakley tried to laugh it off but there was a big part of her that believed it.

"I don't think she'd say that" Tate shook his head.

"You don't?" Oakley looked at him a bit surprised.

"I think she'd be jealous," Tate then glanced up at Oakley.

Oakley softened her gaze and finally allowed her shoulders to drop from the tension.

"Tate..." Oakley breathed out.

"Mom loved me...I know that," Tate said. "But she fought too hard to keep me as one part of me. The part she thought I was supposed to be. Not that it was always her fault in trying to do that...but she always found Dad and that side of me. She never allowed me to be both sides of who I was."

Tate then fully looked at Oakley.

"You do though," Tate said. "You pushed me to always be both."

Oakley assumed both 'sides' meant the Indian and Cowboy side of Tate's heritage. She put her hands in the pocket of her jacket.