-Life Lesson
Memphis
“Hey, darlin’, how are you doing?” my dad asked me as he answered my phone call to him.
“I love you,” I said sweetly.
He snorted. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to come to the rally,” I said quickly.
It was the next morning, and I’d come to a decision. I wanted to go somewhere.
I’d waited up for hours for Downy to come over, but he’d gone to his own bed.
His own bed, I’d noticed, at exactly fifteen past midnight.
I’d been listening, waiting up for him.
Except he’d come home and gone to his own room instead of mine. I’d listened while he’d puttered around in his room, placed his gun on the nightstand, and took a shower.
Then I’d listened to him fall asleep and kept listening until his nightmare had started.
That’d been when I’d gone into the living room to sleep on the couch.
I couldn’t handle listening to him cry out in his sleep and not go to him.
It’d be even better if he’d tell me what those nightmares were about, but all he ever said was that they were ‘nothing.’
I’d let him change the subject one too many times, and now he didn’t even bother to give me excuses anymore, he just ignored me when I asked.
Which pissed me off.
Immensely.
Just another piece of wood on the fire…
Now I just needed to get my head on straight, and what better way than to spend my long holiday at my daddy’s sponsored run? The run that was specifically planned for one of my best friend’s ever. Sean.
He’d made it home from deployment, and what better way to celebrate than to go on a run that supporting our troops?
“Really?” my dad asked in shock. “I thought you didn’t like this run.”
I grimaced. “I don’t like the way they act at this run. It’s rowdy, and I don’t like seeing women’s boobs. That may be for some people, but it’s not on my top list of wants out of life. I need a couple of days to myself, though, doing something I want to do.”
He held this same run every year since a lot of our members were ex-military.
Hale for a Hero Rally was now an annual event in our small Alabama town, and I hadn’t been in two years.
“Do you want me to come pick you up?” he asked unsurely.
I thought about it for a few seconds. Did I?
After a few more moments of contemplation, I smiled. “Yeah, Daddy. I’d like that.”
Maybe a ride was just what I needed.
***
My dad showed up six hours later on his bike, with a large smile on his face.
I couldn’t help but be happy that he was happy.
I’d missed him. A lot.
“You’re not going to fit all of that in my saddlebags,” he observed lightly.
I winked at him. “I know. That’s why I have my backpack. This will all fit though, won’t it?”
I held up my Wal-Mart sack of clothes and waggled it at him.
“You’re not going to want to carry the backpack for six hours. Come on, let’s see what we can do,” he ordered, gesturing with his head to the back of his bike.
Three hours later we were stopping at a diner off the interstate.
He was, of course, right.
I didn’t want to carry my bag anymore, and I was tempted to throw it in the trash. He, however, found a dollar store and came back out ten minutes later with a bungee net and a smile on his face.
“You know,” he said as he strapped my bag to the back of the bike. “I know a thing or two when it comes to riding a motorcycle.”
I snorted. He did, didn’t he?
“Let’s go eat. This’s going to have to be good enough. If we lose your shit as we ride down the interstate, I’ll just buy you something new.”
I snorted at his attitude. He really was a laid back person, and as of yet, I’d never seen anything faze him.
His favorite saying, when I was growing up, had been: Try it. If you fall, just get the fuck back up.
That was his standard saying for pretty much everything.
I followed beside him, walking fast to keep up.
“Hey,” I said to him. “I have a question.”
He raised his brows but didn’t stop as we made our way to the diner’s door and entered inside. “What?”
It wasn’t until we’d made it to the booth and the waitress had taken our drink orders before I worked up the nerve to ask him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Do you think I made the wrong decision?” I asked.
“The wrong decision about what? Leaving your boyfriend or leaving Alabama all together?” He asked bluntly.
That was my dad. Not a coy bone in his big old body.
I pursed my lips.
“Leaving my boyfriend,” I snapped.
I knew, for a fact, I’d made the right decision to leave my father’s house, and he did too.
No matter what he said, he was getting to the point of being over the top, and something had to give.
We’d both said things in the heat of the moment, but our relationship didn’t suffer any. Really, the only thing to have changed, at all, was the fact that I now lived three states away from him.
I knew he still kept an eye on me. And I wasn’t upset about that.
“No. I think if he’s ignoring you like you said he is, he’ll figure out really quick that you don’t like that. But I also think that you’re going to have to give him a little slack. From what I’ve learned about him, and what you’ve told me, he doesn’t have anybody to answer to. Hasn’t had a mother who gave a flying fuck about him in years. No one to care about where he’s been. What makes you think he can stop that overnight if you don’t talk about it?” he asked frankly.
“He won’t talk to me,” I exhaled. “He has nightmares, and every time I ask about them, he kinda wigs out. Which is why I only asked him the once. Then I asked him if I could help him on his house, and he said no, that he wanted to do it himself. Except, he had his friends help him this past week when he very well could’ve had me helping, too. I’m kind of lost as to what to do. Not to mention he hasn’t spoken to me other than a few texts and phone calls in well over ten days.”
“Let him be. You’ll see.”
I thumbed my nose at him, and he chuckled, leaning back to allow the waitress to set our drinks down.
After ordering I said, “You think I should tell him where I’m at?”
He raised his brows at me. “Yeah. I do… when he asks.”
I laughed. “Oh, Daddy. I love you.”
He sobered and stared at me. “I love you more than air, baby girl. I hope you know that.”
His serious brown eyes that were weathered around the edges looked at me.
His heart was in his eyes, just like it always was, when he told us, my mom and me, that he loved us.
“I love you too, Daddy. Thanks for setting me straight.”
***
Downy
Four days later
“What’s your problem?” Michael asked me.
My ‘problem’ was just that, my problem. Something I had to work out on my own.
I was still fucking sick to my stomach after that five-year-old died, and I’d just gone to the funeral for a little girl who’d not had a chance to live, yet had the chance to die.
We were sitting on a stack of mats, watching Bennett and Foster grapple while Luke and Miller lifted weights in the corner of the room.
We were at the gym doing our ‘group’ exercise. The one we had to do once a month in order to promote ‘team morale.’
Luke found pretty ingenious ways to keep our heads in the game, but today I just wasn’t feeling it.
I sighed. “I’ve got some things on my mind.”
“What kind of things?” he asked, his al
l-knowing eyes boring into mine.
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t really want to talk about it. Not even a little bit.
However, Michael didn’t look to be in any better shape than I was.
In fact, he looked even worse than he had the other day.
His eyes were haunted, and I could swear that he had more tattoos, if that was even possible, since I thought there was no more skin left to even fit a new tattoo.
Michael got tattoos like other men drank. Or like women ate when they were upset.
When he was sad, he got a tattoo. When he was pissed, he got a tattoo. When he had a bad day, he got a tattoo.
It didn’t always have to be something big. Sometimes it was just the tiniest of stars. Other times it was something that took up half a chest.
Though, it was getting to the point now that he’d have to venture onto skin that could be seen, which was something he didn’t do.
If he couldn’t cover it, he didn’t get it.
Which was quickly becoming not an option.
“The kinds of things I’m not telling you about if you don’t reciprocate,” I snapped.
He stayed silent for so long that I thought he’d dropped it, but then he surprised the shit out of me.
“I started dating Nico’s sister, but she dumped me when she found out I didn’t want kids,” he blurted.
I blinked, turning to him. “Why don’t you want kids?”
He shrugged. “My dad was bi-polar. I’m bipolar. I just found out its genetic. I don’t want to pass that shit down to my kids.”
I just blinked; surprised as hell that he’d just said what he did. “You’re shitting me.”
He shook his head. “No. I manage it well with meds, but I don’t want to pass that to my babies. I’m a fucking basket case at the best of times.”
I didn’t know what to say. I mean, he was the one living with bipolar disorder. Who was I to tell him he should give it a try. I didn’t know how that affected him, although it had to be controlled in some way, because if he was fucked up in the head, he’d have never made it past the PD’s entrance screening when he was hired. Plus I’d never seen him act fucked up in my life.
Well, maybe once, just two days ago, as a matter of fact.
He’d reconstructed the face of the father of the little girl using nothing but his fist.
It’d been one hell of a show, but the father had deserved it. Irrevocably and utterly.
“I’m fucked up over that call. The one where the girl died. It brought back some ugly memories and then added new ones.” I shook my head. “I haven’t been able to sleep in ten days, and now Memphis is ignoring me.”
“You know where she lives,” he said dryly.
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
“You should talk to her. She might be able to help you work through some shit. Women are good that way,” he said slowly.
I looked over at him with raised brows. “Ditto.”
He flipped me off. “Go fuck yourself.”
“I…” my phone rang, interrupting my next comment.
“Hello?” I answered.
“What’d you do to fuck up, boy?” a man asked on the other end of the line.
I pulled the phone away from my face and asked, “Who is this?”
“Stone, little boy. And you better figure out what the fuck is going on with your head, because I just had my baby girl on the back of my bike for hours today, the second time in less than a week, and she’s not done that willingly since she was sixteen. You fucked up, and it’s time to figure out what the fuck you did so you can fix it. I’ll beat the shit out of you if she cries in front of me. I don’t like tears, not from anyone, but it hurts more coming from my little girl,” Stone, Memphis’ father, rumbled.
I blinked. “For the second time? When was the first?” I asked in surprise.
He laughed humorlessly. “Why, that was when I came and picked her up to spend spring break with me four days ago.”
I was flabbergasted.
She hadn’t even called to tell me she was gone! What the fuck? Was that why she wasn’t taking my calls?
Not to mention we had plans this weekend to go to the Parade of Homes in Longview.
“Yep. I’ll text you the address. See you soon,” he murmured stiltedly before breaking the connection.
I just shook my head, unsurprised, really, that she’d done it in the first place.
“What’s going on?” Michael asked.
“That was my wakeup call.”
Chapter 16
I hate it when I eat my last bite, not realizing it’s the last bite, then immediately get sad because I wasn’t able to mentally prepare.
-E-card
Memphis
It’d been four days.
I was ninety-nine point nine percent sure he wasn’t coming.
I glared at my mother as she kept aiming her disapproving look in my direction.
“What are you looking at?” I snapped.
“What number beer is that?” my mother asked.
I held up six fingers. “Seven.”
My mother blinked and then laughed. “Is that right?” she asked. “Then why are ten cans in front of you?”
“Because I rounded, duh,” I said, twirling around in my chair.
I’d stolen it from my father’s office.
It was big and fluffy, and large enough to seat a big man, like my father, comfortably.
It practically swallowed me, but it fit me and my comforter I’d grabbed off my bed very easily.
“Tell me about your man, baby,” my mother said, taking a seat on the log beside the chair.
I grimaced. I’d done really well not thinking about Downy. In fact, that was probably why I’d managed to drink ten beers… or eight. I couldn’t remember which one I was on now.
The pre-rally party was in full swing, and I was sitting in front of the bonfire drinking beer with my family all around me.
There was only one thing that was missing, and he didn’t even realize I was gone yet.
“I like him,” I said softly, staring at the flames as they danced.
My mother snorted. “You know, when your daddy met me and got me pregnant, I never regretted one single thing. Not one. I knew from the moment that I met him that he was the one.”
My head dropped, and I picked at a loose thread at the edge of the comforter. “I know, mama.”
She stayed quiet for a long moment before continuing. “I regret it every day that I let you walk to the clubhouse. I regret it with every single piece of my being.”
I closed my eyes, nodding. “I know you do, Mom.”
I heard her breath hitch.
“This last time you came back home was the first time I’ve seen you since you were twelve years old. Since the night you were attacked by that stupid dog,” she hissed.
I blinked and turned to her, “What?”
She nodded. “Yes. Yes, you came home. I’ve missed you so.”
She stood up and ran her fingers down my hair, running the tips down the back of my neck, coming to a stop on the scars at the base.
I didn’t have much feeling there. I could feel pressure, but not touch of any sort.
But right then, with my mother curling her warm hand around my neck and looking into my eyes, I could feel the warmth.
“He did that for you, baby. Let him in,” she whispered.
A tear slipped down my cheek. “He’s ignoring me.”
It came out sounding petulant, but I reserved the right to do that every once in a while. Especially since I just finished having my period, and my boyfriend was ignoring me. And he didn’t know I was even out of the apartment, let alone out of the state.
“Your daddy ignores me. You wanna know what I do when he isn’t paying me enough attention?” My mother asked.
I shook my head. “Not really.”
She grinned. “I make him see me. I annoy t
he shit out of him. I go to his work and see him. I follow him to the clubhouse.”
“She stalks me,” my father rumbled from behind us.
We both turned to find my father standing there. He had a beer in his hand, and he was looking at my mother and me with his whole heart in his eyes.
I knew my father loved me, and I loved him. Dearly.
“I don’t stalk you. I make you see me,” my mom snapped. “There’s a difference.”
“Yeah, right. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he laughed.
“Oh, dear. I fear we’re needed over there,” my mother said quickly.
I turned to her with a questioning look. “Over where?”
She was already gone, though, pulling my father through the crowd in her wake.
My father liked it, though.
He loved having my mother. He called her his blessing in disguise.
Apparently, when they’d met, he’d been on the fast track to Loserville.
My mother had shown him what it was like to be loved, and they’d gotten pregnant with me very early in their relationship.
Which then caused them to marry at a young age, and then, from there, they raised their child.
My father had gotten into the police academy when my mother had been six months pregnant, and the rest was history, according to them.
I found myself smiling as I watched them walk away.
I loved that they still loved each other now, just as much as they did then.
They were one of a kind that was for sure.
“Hey there, Mimi,” Sean said.
“Hi yourself, Seanshine,” I said to one of my best friends in the whole wide world.
Sean, or ‘Seanshine’ as I like to call him, was one of my childhood friends who’d stuck with me through it all. Mostly because he had to, not because he wanted to.
He was gorgeous, which meant that he sort of stuck out around here, just like I did.
He was the son of my father’s VP, Big Papa. Everyone always thought we’d get together and have copious amounts of babies.
However, we didn’t see each other like that and never would.
He was my confidant, and I’d missed my friend over the last couple of years.
He’d joined the Marines when he was just barely eighteen, and I hadn’t seen him other than at his graduation from boot camp since then.
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