#(btw I did actually get an ask for a Stanley McGucket thing and am working on it)

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary ‘21 - Week Four: Future

So, do y’all remember a while back, when I asked for scenes from the Stanley McGucket AU that you wanted to see but I didn’t write?  Well, that’s because I had decided to choose that OG AU as my AU for this week, but was struggling to come up with how to handle the prompt.

Luckily, I managed to come up with an idea for it that I hope will bring the feels.  The first part takes place at some point in the “Stan Pines, Farmhand” sequel to “Stanley McGucket”, while the second part (which was inspired by the sub-theme of “Epilogue”) takes place immediately after the last chapter.

Enjoy.

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              The pickup truck came to a stop.

              “I’ve got some chores to finish up,” Pa McGucket said.  His voice was thick with emotion.  At the airport earlier, he had put on a brave face, but once Angie’s plane took off, he immediately burst into tears.

              Can’t really blame him.  I felt the same way.  Pa McGucket got out of the truck and headed for the barn.  Ma McGucket, sniffling softly, exited the truck as well.  With a sigh, Stan got out and followed Ma McGucket inside.  Ma McGucket promptly disappeared into the kitchen.  The clattering of pots and pans soon sounded.  Stan had figured out early on that Ma McGucket liked to bake when she was upset or stressed.  Hope she’s making cookies this time.

              Stan trudged down the hall sadly.  He came to the stairs that led to the second floor. After a moment, he began to climb them. The carpeting muffled his footsteps. He walked to Angie’s bedroom.  The door was slightly ajar.  He pushed it open the rest of the way.  The room looked as it normally did.  The bed was neatly made, books organized in a particular manner on the bookshelf, tchotchkes artfully placed on the dresser. Even the floor had been recently vacuumed.  Despite everything being in place, it felt wrong without Angie, scolding Stan for peeking into her room.

              Well, looks like we’re back to the house being empty.  While Angie and her siblings had been visiting for winter break, the house had felt full and happy, like when Stan first moved in.  But gradually, each sibling went back to school or their home, until Angie, whose spring semester started the latest, was the last one.  She’s so energetic and loud, I could barely tell she was the only one here.

              Stan stared at the empty room for a few more moments before sighing and closing the door.  The sound of Ma McGucket’s new stand mixer – a group Christmas gift from Angie, Lute, and Stan – carried to the second floor.  However, the radio kept in the kitchen hadn’t been turned on. Curious, Stan went back downstairs and into the kitchen just as Ma McGucket turned off her stand mixer.  Ma McGucket looked up.

              “I ain’t even put it in the oven yet, how’d ya know I was bakin’?” she asked.  Her eyes shone in a way that suggested she was holding back tears, but other than that, she showed no signs of sadness.

              She’s always been better at hiding her emotions than Mearl.

              “You bake when yer upset,” Stan said.  Sally pointed a wooden spoon at him.

              “Watch what ya say, Stanley.”

              “I’m just tellin’ the truth.”

              “Hmph.”  Ma McGucket crossed her arms.  “I’m beginnin’ to regret makin’ yer fav’rite.”

              “Chocolate chip cookies?”

              “Yep.  But I could easily change it to be raisins instead,” Ma McGucket said, raising an eyebrow. Stan held up his hands in surrender, eliciting a smile from her.  The smile quickly faded, however, as she searched his face.  “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

              “No, it, uh, it’s just weird havin’ the house be quiet and empty again.”

              “Yes, it certainly is,” Ma McGucket said softly. She dumped chocolate chips into the mixing bowl and stirred.  “But I don’t think that’s the only reason yer lookin’ down in the dumps.”

              “I…”  Stan trailed off.  Ma McGucket set the wooden spoon down.  She walked over to the kitchen table and sat.

              “Sit ‘n chat with me, Stan,” she said, patting the chair next to her.  Stan sat next to Ma McGucket.  She fixed her brilliant blue eyes, the same as Angie’s, on him.  “What’s goin’ on, son?”  Stan looked down at the table.  He idly traced the scratches in the wood, which he had been told Harper made shortly after getting his first pocketknife.  “Stanley, talk to me.”

              “What am I s’pposed to do, Sally?” Stan asked finally.

              “Yer goin’ to need to be more specific.”

              “I just-”  Stan sighed.  “All yer kids went off to college.  All the friends I made in school are at college.  Ford’s at college.  It feels weird bein’ the only one still at home.”  His volume dropped sharply.  “But, I guess I can’t really do anything else but stay at home.”

              “Ah.”  Ma McGucket leaned back in her chair.  “This isn’t just ‘bout secondary education.  This is ‘bout yer future.”

              “Well, yeah,” Stan mumbled.  He continued to resolutely avoid eye contact.  “I don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do now.  Can’t have a future if I don’t have a plan fer it.”

              “Now, that just ain’t true,” Ma McGucket said sharply.  Stan looked up in shock.  “I was older ‘n ya when I fin’lly figured out what my future was goin’ to look like. And plannin’ didn’t have anything to do with it.  Heck, the day I realized what my future was, that was the day I threw out the plan I’d had since I was a kid.”

              “Whattaya mean?”

              “To be fair, the plan weren’t really mine. It was my parents’.  From birth, they planned on me gettin’ a law degree and then settlin’ down with some high society feller that they would choose fer me. But then the plan went off the tracks when I met Mearl at college.  I started thinkin’ that maybe I didn’t want to do what I had always been told I would.

              “My relationship with Mearl got serious. Serious enough that I decided to finally tell my folks ‘bout it.  They…didn’t take it well.  They told me, in no uncertain terms, that they wouldn’t support my relationship with a poor farmer who barely graduated high school.  That day, I came to my crossroads.”

              “Crossroads?” Stan asked.  Ma McGucket leaned in, her eyes warm and wise.

              “Everyone walks their own path.  Ya come across a lot of opportunities to go a dif’rent direction, but they’re optional, where ya can stay the course instead of go somewhere else.  Most of the time, those optional routes ain’t that far from yer original path anyways. But in every path, there’s a crossroads. A moment where the road ‘fore ya fully diverges.  Ya can’t keep goin’ the same way anymore.  Ya have to make a choice.

              “When I came to my crossroads, I saw two futures ahead of me.  In one, I did what my parents wanted.  I would continue to live a high-society, comfortable life where I didn’t want fer anything.  But I wouldn’t be happy.  I wouldn’t be fulfilled.  In the other, I stayed with Mearl, and let my fam’ly disown me.  Money would be tight, I would have to work harder than I ever had just to get by.  But I’d be with the person I loved.”  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah, you told me before that ya gave up yer cushy life to marry Mearl.”

              “Only partially,” Ma McGucket said softly.  “I didn’t just leave my fam’ly fer Mearl.  I left ‘em fer myself.  When they told me I couldn’t stay with him, that I would have to be with one of the suitors they already had lined up fer me, everything came crashin’ down.  It was like I had been in a fog my whole life, only fer it to suddenly disperse, revealing everything I couldn’t see before.  I saw just how much I had been under their thumb, under their control.  I saw my future clearer ‘n ever ‘fore.  And I saw the crossroads up ahead.

              “I knew that if I left my fam’ly fer Mearl, there was a chance Mearl ‘n I wouldn’t stay together anyways.  But even if we broke up, I would still be free.  I’d say that it weren’t a choice at all, with how easy it was fer me to make it.  But that would be minimizing its importance.”  Ma McGucket met Stan’s eyes squarely.  “I chose my path.  I walked down it.  I never looked back.”

              “Why…why did you tell me that?” Stan asked, feeling slightly numb from the intensity of Ma McGucket’s story.

              “Because one day, you’ll come to yer crossroads. You’ll see yer future ‘fore ya and have to make a choice.”

              “But what am I s’pposed to do until then?” Stan demanded.  He could feel frustration growing.

              Just give me a straight answer!

              “What do ya want to do?” Ma McGucket asked.

              “I don’t know!” Stan raged.  “That’s the whole point, it-”  Ma McGucket held up a hand, silencing him.

              “Are ya happy ‘n healthy now?” she asked.  “Are ya content in yer life?”  Stan opened his mouth.  “Don’t give me whatever answer ya think I want to hear.  Give me the truth.”  Stan closed his mouth and stared down at the table again, the gears in his head furiously turning.  After a moment, he nodded.

              “Yeah.  I am.”

              “Then there’s no reason to change things, is there?” Ma McGucket said simply.  “You’ll know what you want someday.  You’ll see your future ahead of ya.  But until then…”  She placed her hand over his, smiling.  “Just stay the course until ya come to yer own crossroads.”

-----

              Finally, soft snoring sounded from the passenger’s seat. Stan glanced over.

              It’s about time Ford fell asleep.  Ford’s face was smushed against the window, his glasses askew.  His snoring almost harmonized with the snoring coming from the back seat.  Speaking of…  Stan looked in the rearview mirror.  He smiled.  The source of the snoring, as he’d expected, was Emily.  Even though she was much bigger than Angie now, she still had defaulted to resting her head on her mother’s shoulder while sleeping.  To his surprise, Angie was asleep as well.  Or is she?

              “Ang?” Stan asked quietly.

              “Shh, I don’t want yer pomegranates,” Angie mumbled. Stan chuckled.

              Yep.  She’s asleep.  He turned his attention back to the road.  With no conversation to hold his focus and the radio stations fading in and out, Stan’s mind wandered.  Eventually, it settled onto the day Angie had left for college, decades ago.  The conversation he’d had with Ma McGucket about his future.

              “Just stay the course until ya come to yer own crossroads.”

              “Never did find those crossroads, Sally,” Stan said out loud.

              Unless…

              Another memory resurfaced.  Sitting on the side of the road, his back pressed against a tire, gravel prodding his legs through his worn jeans.  A man walking over, crouching down, watching him with an expression so fatherly it felt foreign.  An offer.

              “We're lookin' fer a new farmhand.  We're gettin' on in years, and our kids are gone most of the time.  They can't help out as much as they used to.”

              “What are you saying?”

              “I'm sayin' that if ya want a job, a nice bed, and three square meals a day, we can give that to ya.”

              “What's the catch?”

              “Only that ya work hard.”

              “…Okay.”

              The beginnings of tears pricked the corners of Stan’s eyes at the memory of Pa McGucket’s kindness and warmth.  Ever since he had passed away, remembering Mearl made Stan wistful, no matter how positive the memory was.  Stan hurriedly wiped the tears away.  He smiled despite the sudden sadness.

              The only thing he knew about me was my name, and he still took me in.  Stan glanced in the rearview mirror again.  More memories bubbled to the surface.  First meeting the girl that would eventually become his wife, as well as his future brothers-in-law.  Making up with Ford.  Graduating high school.  Getting married.  Becoming a father.  None of that woulda happened if I had turned down Mearl’s offer.  Stan looked back at the highway, his smile broadening.

              Y’know what, Sally?  It happened a long time before we talked about it, but I did reach my own crossroads.

              And I think I made the right choice.