I translated in my head: he was doing something illegal.
“I will not bail you out, Dad. One, I can’t. I have zero money. And two, I would never ask a guy that I just started dating, who is a deputy, for money…For something that more than likely is illegal.”
“I just hope it…”
“It is what?”
“Never mind.” He threw his hands up in the air and then walked off.
Guilt trip? Yeah, that is going to work…said no abandoned daughter ever.
17
WYATT
I was five minutes late, and irritated as hell. I hated to be late to anything, but especially to see Breigh. I hadn't gotten to see her lately and with work I’d been buried. Since my promotion I had been working more than I already was. When she invited me over for dinner, I jumped at the chance.
I had no problem with work, or a challenge, but I had a want to spend time with Breigh. Almost like a teen who started a new relationship and wanted to skip school and stay with them the entire time. I was feeling that way.
When I wasn't with her, she always crossed my mind: her hair, her smile, her sweet voice. After seeing her expression with my house, I think there was a part of me that fell for her. I’m just not sure I would share that with her yet.
A quick knock and Breigh was hollering for me to come in.
She met me in the hallway with a hug and a kiss on my lips. I had wondered if our chemistry would still be there. Oh yes, it was.
I wrapped my arms around her and held her for a few minutes. “I have missed you,” I whispered.
“I wanted to call you a few times to talk, or just hear your voice, but thought that might be a bit much.”
She turned and I followed her to her kitchen, holding her dessert in a paper bag. I wanted to surprise her and make her wait until after dinner.
The white farm table was decorated with a wide candle in the center lighting up the table.
She had made a feast.
“Have a seat and I will get you a drink and everything on the table.”
“I can help.”
“I enjoy waiting on you. Please let me…Wine, beer, or tea. What would you like?”
“A beer would be great.”
I watched as she moved around her kitchen, putting everything out in a rhythm, showing she had done this a few times before.
She sat after everything seemed placed and let out a little laugh. “I might have overdone it, but my Grammy always does too. I can’t wait until I have a family to do this for…”
She paused.
“So I made chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, homemade country gravy, and yeast rolls.”
“It looks fantastic. I don't remember my last home-cooked meal; my aunt doesn't like to cook. My mom…she wasn't a cook. Actually my last home cooked meal was at your grandmother’s.” I wasn't going to share how my mother had brought in takeout more often or not. And a couple times a week she had a cook come in and prepare food. She loathed the kitchen.
“Do you mind if we bless our food?” She asked and grabbed for my hand. How could I turn that away?
She blessed our food, thanked God for what we had been blessed with, and prayed for my aunt and her father. Right this moment, I was one-hundred-percent sure she was not someone I was going to let out of my life. Ever.
Before letting go of her hand, I placed a kiss on it. “Thank you for this beautiful meal, Breigh.”
“Then dig in.”
We passed the food back and forth between each other until our plates were filled. I was salivating.
“How has work been?” I asked.
“Busy, my boss has been out. I am starting to get worried, to be honest. He hasn't been back in and that is not like him at all.”
“My aunt said you were fantastic at your job. What exactly do you do though? I was confused.”
“I assist a lawyer in preparing wills and making sure people have everything finalized how they want them, that their final wishes will be followed through with.”
“Does it get morbid?”
“Not at all.” She takes a sip from her beer in the glass bottle. “I put a lot of pride in knowing I am helping people who are making their final decisions.”
“I’m sure, you having your relationship with your grandmother helped prepare you for that.” She shook her head in agreement.
“Have you been busy too?”
“Yes, and I don't see a slowdown anytime soon. Plus we are shorthanded.”
“I get that. I am one person doing three people’s jobs. I swear I should have been born with six hands.”
“My job is usually a lot of bad news…but I had a call on a baby being abandoned at a hospital. Then another call of the same baby at a fire station…”
“How horrible.”
“Yes, but it turns out the grandmother is going to take the baby in and raise it. I was so happy to hear it. His name is Ashton. Closed case, and a good outcome.”
“That baby will be lucky like me,” she said sweetly.
“So what else has gone on with you?” I asked.
“I hate to bring it up right now. My father… I am so sick of having to discuss him.”
“Go ahead.” I stated.
“Okay, please don’t think any differently of me. I hate I have to do this and have this conversation but I…”
“Breigh?”
“He asked me to go to dinner and he showed up drunk as a skunk. He had said he was going to stay sober and… anyway… he is under the impression you are my ‘boyfriend’ and you are rich…and he was asking me for money.”
Her face looked completely humiliated.
“I wish I could say I was shocked, but I’m not.”
“This doesn't shock you? It does me. I mean, he had asked me for money as soon as I got my first job, but to assume we are a couple and that he can ask me or you for money? He has some nerve. He is so embarrassing! You have no idea what it is like have a father that…”
I reached for her hands and held them both on top of the table. “Breigh, look, I most definitely know what that is like, but just in a different way. Not everyone gets how you and I are. We have worked for everything and they don't see that. I’m used to this, really. All my life, I have been asked for things because people knew who my father was, or knew my last name. No one has ever asked me about why I have always worked like I do, why I moved away from Houston, and why I am the way I am.”
“I know.”
“So first off let’s get this straight. For someone to think you are my girlfriend; I love that. I don't know how you feel about that, but I’m honestly pretty hooked on you. Especially after this chicken-fried steak.” I smiled and winked. “But your dad asking for money, it won’t be the first or last time. He won’t get a penny from me. I work for my money, and I work a lot.”
She listened but didn't comment.
“I can call him and let him know that he doesn't need to come ask you for money…”
“You don't have to do that. I refuse to give him any more money.”
“Well, if he asks again, tell him to call me. He has my card. I’ve given it to him before, but I’m betting he won’t though. He was trying to look for an opportunity to get something for free, which seems to be his MO.”
She bit her lip like she was trying to keep her mouth shut.
“I’m sorry, that wasn't the nicest thing to say.”
“It’s the truth. Wyatt, I know what my father is, but the last part is what scared me. He said he owes some people some money who aren't going to let it go.”
“Has he had that issue before?”
“My father, probably, but it didn't fall on me.”
“Let’s not worry about it tonight. He knows how to contact me at the station and we can go from there. The truth always comes out.”
I didn't tell him that was what I was afraid of, not the truth about me; I had nothing to hide…but my father.
WYATT
I drove up to his single-wide mobile home, knowing Breigh wasn't going to approve of what I was doing. Nevertheless, I had to do it. I had to make a point and put a stop to what he thought was acceptable.
I debated back and forth about talking it over with her before going, but I knew she would be against it for various reasons. The reasons I wanted to do it would be the reasons she didn't want me to do so. She was selfless and would want to make sure I understood she had zero interest in my money. I knew that even before I showed her my home. She was genuine.
Walking up to the home, if you wanted to call it that, I stood outside of the door that was propped open. I knocked on the trim around the door, hoping since his door was open he’d be here.
“Go away!”
Yep, he was here and had his normal extra friendly attitude.
“Greg, come out and talk to me for a minute.” I stepped back and waited for him to come out.
He made his appearance, shirtless, in a pair of jeans that must have been pre-two hundred pounds. His beer gut hung over and the denim barely stayed put on his waist.
“Wyatt, what brings you here?” He looked me up and down, taking in my uniform that he more than likely despised.
“I think you probably know the answer to that.”
“Sorry, I don’t.” He shook his head then rubbed the corner of his forehead. He swayed a little, catching himself.
“I can’t be arrested for being drunk at home,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“I know the law better than you do, Greg, but thank you.” I paused. “I have some things to clear up though. First off, yes, I like your daughter. I would love for her to be my girlfriend, but I’m not sure I am good enough for her. Second, not sure how you found out my family has money, but frankly it’s none of your damn business.”
“From what I heard you act like you have money, so everyone would have found out.”
“How so?”
“Word has it you had a silver spoon in your mouth from the day you were born. It makes me sick.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“You are a squirt,” he spat out at me.
“Name-calling? Okay… well… as far as you going to your daughter for money? That is pretty pathetic.”
“She owes me money. She is the reason why I lost my wife.”
“What?”
“Because of her, my wife died. She died during childbirth. And for nothing.”
“From what I heard, Breigh has taken care of you a lot throughout her life, even paid bills for you.”
“Because she feels guilty.”
“You’re a real piece of work…” The anger filled my chest and I had to fight the urge to swing at him, hitting him across the jaw. He was completely delusional and liked to play the victim. I had already known that though. This wasn't my first run-in with Greg Foster.
I began again, “Here is a thought, maybe you feel guilty for all you have done wrong and that is why you stay drunk…or is that on Breigh too?”
“Get the hell off my property!”
“Don’t ever try to use Breigh as a pawn to get money from me again. It won’t ever happen. I work for every penny I have, and I would suggest you do the same. Shame on you for the things you think about your own daughter, blaming her for her mother’s death.”
“You know nothing about me or my daughter.”
“I know I’m in love with her, and I plan to spend the rest of my life making sure she doesn't have to put up with your pathetic conniving self.”
When our eyes met that last time, following the last words I had spoken, I felt a second of hurt in my heart. My anger had overridden the calmness I am usually able to maintain. He had brought up something in me that was hard to sustain.
To think I was going to give him a check and tell him to never ask his daughter for money again…
I guess that took a turn for the worse, and now I had to explain it to Breigh and hope I didn't piss her off to high heaven. I knew I was overstepping, but I had to do something to try to protect her.
That was my job.
As I pulled away from the trailer, I knew one-hundred-percent I was in love with Breigh Foster.
18
WYATT
Some people enjoyed going home; pulling up to the house they grew up in, and instantly feeling like they never left. They missed it and the loved ones around it. But I was not one of those people. I loved where I grew up, but I hated people knowing I was rich and had money. I was looked at differently my entire life because of what I had been born into. Something I wasn’t proud of. I wanted to be a man of honor, not something the Galloway name stood for.
The dark iron gate opened slowly, just as it always had, making me wait in frustration until I was driving in. Thankfully, I didn't see my father’s car, a BMW 7 series, jet-black. Every car he ever had had been black. Like his soul. Or my brother’s car, a Land Rover. Neither was there. I said a quick thank you to the man upstairs for that blessing.
I texted my mother, notifying her I was here and I would meet her at the barn. Granted, her barn was nicer than most single-family homes and larger.
“Hi, Son.” She was dressed to the nines in her riding gear, smiling with a grooming brush in her hand. She startled me and I jumped, shocked at her presence. We gave each other a hug and for the first time when I pulled back, she didn't let go.
“Are you okay?”
“Never better.” She smiled. “Why?”
“You’re holding a grooming brush. I thought John did all the grooming.”
“I know how to groom a horse, Wyatt.” She looked better for sure. Her smile hadn't left her face since our hug.
“Ready to ride?”
“You bet.” Mom handed me the lead for one of the horses, Colton. He was already tacked up and ready to go. “I had to knock off all the cobwebs on your saddle.”
“It has been a while,” I commented in agreement.
I led the horse out of the barn and jumped on him, ready for a ride. The weather was pleasant and a perfect day to get back in my saddle. I gave him a nice pat then kick in his side to get him to move.
Mom joined in, ready to go.
We rode side by side without much of a conversation at first, just taking in the time together. The serenity of the land, the green freshness that was welcoming.
“Let’s see if you’ve still got it.” Mom smiled and took off in a trot then to a canter, making me chase her. She was challenging me, which I was always up for, but being out of practice riding, it took me a bit to get into gear.
I met her at the top of the property, looking over a pasture that was empty having been recently baled.
She was a little out of breath as she began to talk, but not as much as I was.
“You still got it, Wyatt.”
“Yeah, well, not like you.”
“I’ve always enjoyed riding with you.”
“Me too, Mom.”
“I wanted to bring you out here to ride with me because this is one thing we did. This and do you remember our dances?”
We had led the horses into an easy walk as we talked. They seemed to enjoy the leisure break.
I smiled. “Of course.”
“I have been thinking over a lot of my life, with Rhonda having cancer, and the thought of losing her…” She was getting emotional, and to be honest, my mother wasn’t one I saw cry often. She had always attempted to pretend she was numb, or maybe she got so good at pretending to be she actually became that way.
“I know. I feel the same way. I love Rhonda and I’m…” I had looked toward her then away.
Heartbroken. I don’t even know if that word describes it.
“Rhonda is my big sister. She was always hard on me, but she did it because she loved me. If only I would have listened to her, but then again, if I would have listened to her I wouldn’t have you!” She smiled and chuckled. “You know when we were kids we did a lot of riding together. Living here, I love to ride but it was because
of the rush, getting out here and riding hard, and getting fresh air. But lately, and especially since…well…life just seems short. I have found myself out here more, and connecting by loving on the horses, looking in their eyes, even grooming. I’m finding peace. Funny, huh?”
“Nah, the same connection that Rhonda has I imagine.”
“She always loved working with horses over people.”
“Yes, I wish you could've seen Rhonda when she was younger. We were thick as thieves."
"What changed all that?" I asked. Mom and Rhonda had mentioned different things at different times about the frustration they had with each other.
“Rhonda, my sister, tried to keep me from your father. She saw the way he treated me and was afraid I was going to lose myself in him.”
"Was she right?” I asked, as if I didn't know the answer.
“Don’t be smart with me. You know I did."
"So that is all that happened?"
"Your aunt feels like I let money take over my life. Our parents were wealthy, in fact, your father wouldn’t have his company if it weren’t for me. But that being said, Rhonda saw it as I was living my life for money, not for what it should be for. Then you add in not being the mother I should’ve been."
"So basically everything she feared for you happened?
"To the T,” Mom said. “Anyway, along with everything with Rhonda, I have been thinking a lot over things…your father and I are calling it quits. I realize, more now than ever, how much I missed out on.”
“Mom, you don't have to do this.”
“Just listen, please, this isn't a feel sorry for me, or give me sympathy. I am just simply stating the facts of my life. With the help of my sister and her husband, they were able to give you some guidance and love that I was too busy to do. Obviously, I can’t turn back time; but I can say I am proud of you and the way you have chosen to live your life. It makes me very proud and honored to be your mother.”
“That means a lot, Mom.”
“I was a different person when I met your father, then became someone else, before finishing where I am now. I am happy with that now. But I can look back and see the errors in my ways. I can’t make up for them, but I can tell you how I feel and show my regret.”
Be My Reason Page 11
