“So, what’s the plan, Dane?”
I look at him, confused. “The plan?”
“Yeah, you know. You passed on the whole tour/record deal thing. What are you going to do?”
I shrug as I let out a long breath. “Fuck if I know. There’s not much I can do. I dropped out of school. My band signed a record deal without me, not that I want anything to do with music.”
Mason stands and grabs another beer from the fridge before walking back and taking his seat. After a long drink, he levels his eyes on me. “What happened to you? You used to want to get out of this town. All you wanted to do was play music and now, you don’t care about it anymore?”
I scoff. “Nope, I’m done with it all.”
“Why did you turn down the record deal and the tour?”
I set my beer down on the table and lean forward. “I just didn’t want it anymore. It’s one of those things you think you want until you get it. Then you realize how wrong you really were.”
“That makes no fucking sense.”
I shake my head and fall back against the couch. “It is what it is.”
Mason stands and looks down at me. “I don’t know what happened to my brother, man. You used to be cool. Now you’re just a fucking mess. Pull yourself together and get over whatever it is.” The anger rolls off him in waves.
At first, I’m a little shocked. When did Mason grow up so much? He went from a babbling pre-teen that couldn’t talk to girls to telling me to grow up? I laugh at the whole situation.
“Maybe you’re right. Nothing I can do about it now, is there?”
“I’ll tell you what you can do. You can start helping us out a bit more.”
I sit up. “What do you mean?”
Mason brushes his hair from his eyes. “Dad’s not doing so good in case you haven't noticed.”
“What’s going on? Is he sick?”
He falls back into his seat, kicking his foot up on the table again. “He works his ass off. If he’s not running back and forth between the shop and the grill, he’s trying to make these repairs on the house. He’s getting too old to be doing it all. I work myself into the ground trying to give him some rest, but between the house, the shop, and soccer, I’m burnt out. Why don’t you try talking him into making you manager at the grill or something?”
I nod. “Okay, I can do that. I don’t know how much rest that’ll give him though. You know how he is when it comes to me. He’ll probably be more stressed waiting for me to fuck something up.”
“So, don’t fuck up! I came home from practice the other day and found him lying in the yard. He’d passed out from heat exhaustion. He’s going to end up killing himself.”
“Alright. Quit yelling at me. Fuck! When did you get so bossy?”
He laughs. “I guess when I started having to take care of everything.”
“I’ll talk to Dad tomorrow,” I promise.
“Alright. I’m going home. I’ll see you later.” He stands and opens the door.
Before he steps out, I call after him. “Mason.”
“Yeah?” He turns around to face me.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around. You’re really growing up.”
He cracks a smile and waves me off as he steps out.
Talking with Mason is good for me. It makes me realize how stupid I’m being. Sure, Alissa is the love of my life. I’m not talking some kind of small town puppy love. I mean, she’s it. I felt it in the pit of my stomach the first day I laid eyes on her. When I lost her, I lost sight of everything else. Everything in my life fell away. I couldn’t see past the hurt and pain losing her brought on. But Mason has put everything into perspective.
Even though she’s gone, I have to push on.
I walk into the grill first thing in morning before anyone else has arrived. I go back into the office and find my dad sitting at the computer. He looks up quickly at me and then back at the screen. “What the hell are you doing here so early?”
I fall into the chair across from his desk. “I was wrong. I’ve been stupid, and I should’ve listened to you, about all of it. You were right.”
He freezes when he hears those words. Slowly, he spins his chair around to face me. “Come again?”
I let out a small laugh. “I’m ready to move on and grow up. I’ve been acting like an immature kid, and I’m sorry. I should’ve been putting in more effort around here. I’m ready.”
He wrinkles his brow and rubs his forehead. “Ready for what exactly?”
“To grow up. I want to help out around here more. I want you to train me to be manager, so you can actually take some time off. You’re killing yourself trying to run two businesses. You can count on me.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing, but from what I’ve seen, you’re not ready.”
Anger surges through me, and I stand quickly. “I just told you that I am. Why can’t you ever just trust me?”
His face turns a new shade of red as he stands with me. “I’ve known you your whole life. You jump head first into everything you do, and then act surprised when it all blows up in your face. You don’t listen to me, you don’t respect authority, and as soon as you get bored with something, you quit. Not to mention your temper. You really want to prove to me you’re ready? Then pick up some extra shifts around here, respect me, and for the love of God, cut your damn hair! You look like a punk!” He storms around his desk and holds the door open for me.
I don’t say anything as I walk out because he’s right. About everything. Everything but my hair. My hair is awesome.
I storm out of the grill and walk around to the picnic table, pulling my cigarettes from my pocket. Mason’s truck pulls into the parking lot as I’m enjoying a calming smoke. He shuts off the engine and walks over to me.
“What’s going on? You look pissed.”
“Got into it with Dad again.”
“Damn it, Dane. You were supposed to make it easier on him, not harder.” He runs his hands through his hair.
“I fucking tried, Mason. He doesn’t trust me to run his bar. He thinks I’m going to quit the second I get bored with it. He doesn’t think I’m ready.”
“So, prove to him you are. I know you and Dad have always butted heads but swallow your pride for once.” He walks to the shop, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Chapter Eleven
Dane
My dad is right. Regardless of how I feel, the world keeps going and I keep pushing on. Before I know it, another year passes, and I’m still doing the exact same thing with my life.
I go to work, but now I act like I actually want to be there. I show up early and stay late when needed. I pick up any extra shifts I can, hoping to prove to my dad I’m ready.
When I turn twenty, he decides to start training me for the management position. I go in early every morning, so he can give me another lesson on running a bar. When I get to the grill, I lock the door behind me since it isn’t time to open. Whistling, I head back into the office to see what today’s lesson entails.
As I open the door, I see the back of his chair. Usually he spins around to face me, but it’s so early, the old man has probably passed out again. He’s getting old and needs to retire, which is another reason I’m looking forward to managing the bar soon. He deserves to rest. He’s spent his whole life working hard and taking care of me and Mason.
“Dad, did you have a rough night last night?” I ask, walking up behind him and shaking his shoulder.
His head leans back against the black, leather desk chair, and his skin is pale.
I shake him again. “Dad?”
He doesn’t move. I look closer and see his chest isn’t moving. “Dad!” I scream while spinning his chair around. The quick movement causes him to slump over, but he’s still not moving.
In a panic, I rush for the phone and dial 9-1-1.
I talk to the responder, and she asks me to check for a pulse while the ambulance is dispatched. I place my hand on the inside of his wrist
but feel nothing.
My dad is dead. He’s cool to the touch. He’s gone.
I drop the phone and fall to the floor, scurrying backward until my back hits the wall. Tears sting my eyes as I look up at him. Thoughts swirl around in my head so quickly, I can’t even process them, and I hear nothing but my heart hammering away in my ears. My whole body tingles with fear and sadness.
He was a constant in my life. I knew I could count on him for everything. If I needed some sense knocked into me, he’d do it. If I needed help, he was the one I called on. But now, I’m alone. I have nothing.
A pounding sound fills my ears, but I don’t move to check it out. I can’t. I’m frozen in fear, in grief.
The pounding starts again and again. I finally snap out of it, realizing it’s the EMT’s. They can’t get into the bar because the door is locked.
I run to the front and unlock it. They rush inside. Without a word, I point toward the office, and they run in that direction. I fall backward, landing on a barstool. I lay my head against the bar, praying to wake up from this nightmare.
“Excuse me,” a soft voice says.
My head pops up to see a little, blonde girl standing next to me.
“I’m sorry, but he’s gone. We’re waiting on the coroner to pronounce him.”
I nod, and tears stream freely.
Time moves so fast, but it still feels like it’s sitting still. As employees come into the bar for their shifts, I fill them in and send them home, opting to keep the bar closed today. It is the first day it’s been closed since my dad opened it only a couple years ago.
I know my dad would probably slap me and say this isn’t worth the business lost, but I don’t see it that way. I look at it as a moment of silence for his dedication.
When my dad’s body has been taken away, I walk back to the office and sit in the chair across from his desk. My heart is breaking, but I’ve cried so much now, I can’t cry anymore.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Mason says, walking into the office.
“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry,” I say, not taking my eyes off that black desk chair. I’m still in shock.
“God damn it, Dane! It’s not just about you, you know?” Something crashes behind me, but I don’t flinch or turn to see what it was.
There’s a long silence before then he sniffles behind me. I stand and turn around to face him. He’s sitting on the floor, his back to the door. A big hole is in the office door, and now I know what the crash was. Falling to the floor beside him, I pull him against my chest. “I’m sorry, Mase. He’s gone.”
His tears soak through my shirt. “What happened? He was fine this morning.”
“They think it was a heart attack but can’t be sure without an autopsy.”
Mason pushes me away and stands. “What the fuck are we supposed to do now?”
I shrug from my place on the floor. “I don’t know. We have to plan a funeral and figure out what we’re going to do with the shop and this place. We need to find out who his lawyer is and see what all we have to deal with.”
“That’s not what I mean, Dane. I’m supposed to be leaving. You can’t do all this by yourself.” He stands and starts pacing.
I lean against the wall, bringing my knees up and placing my elbows on them. “Go off and do what you need to do, Mase. I’ll handle this.” I mean what I say, but it comes out sounding off. It sounds like I’m just telling him to leave, to go off and be selfish, but I’m not. Mason has worked his entire life for this. He needs to go, the same way I needed to go on that tour.
Looking around the office, I realize it’s time to grow up. I’m officially alone now.
I pull my black suit jacket on and look at myself in the mirror. My dark eyes are bloodshot and look hollow. For a long time, I did good and didn’t drink as much, but with Dad’s passing, everything is piling up on me, and the first thing I reach for is the bottle. I woke up only an hour ago, and I’m still partially drunk from last night. But I have to go.
I drive over to the cemetery and look out over the grounds. It’s a cloudy day with the threat of rain. Mason and a few other men stand by my dad’s final resting spot. My heart clenches in my chest. I don’t know if I can handle this.
During the planning, I buried the pain deep inside of me, choosing to focus on what needed to be done. But now all the plans are done, so there’s nothing to focus on but the pain.
I step out of the car just as the clouds open, allowing a slow, steady rain to fall from the sky. I don’t have an umbrella, but that’s okay because at least this way my tears can’t be seen. I need to be strong for Mason. I need to let him know it’s okay for him to go. He needs to go. I can handle everything here.
When I come to a stop at Mason’s side, I place my hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him in some way. I nod at Dan as a silent thank you for coming. Then I study the faces of the other men, but I have no idea who they are.
We’re having a private funeral. No ceremony, only a burial with his closest friends and family. Everyone in town loves…loved Dad. I don’t have the strength to deal with the whole town showing up and listening to them tell me how sorry they are.
The only way people know about the time, is by word of mouth. My dad would’ve liked it that way. He never liked people making a fuss over him. He wouldn’t want everyone in town dropping their lives to mourn the loss of his.
The preacher says a prayer, and one by one, everyone leaves but me and Mason. I look over at my little brother. His jaw flexes while anger burns hot in his eyes.
He’s pissed. I wrap my arm around his shoulders. “We’ll be alright, Mase.”
He shrugs it off and turns to leave.
I let him go. He needs his space right now, but I vow to check on him later.
Kneeling, I grab a handful of dirt while the men work on lowering him into the ground. “I’ll make you proud, Dad. I promise.” I sprinkle the dirt over his shiny wooden casket and stand before walking back to my car.
I head straight home. I’m not in the mood to see anyone. I’ve managed to cover all the shifts at the grill for the next week, so I could have the time to get things together for the funeral.
Sitting back, I drink straight from the bottle of Jack. Time passes, and before I know it, it’s dark, but I haven’t moved to turn on any lights. My phone rings, and I pull it from my pocket.
“Dude, I heard about your dad. I’m so sorry,” Quinton says.
“Thanks.”
“I know you’re probably not feeling up to it, but we have a party just getting started over here if you want to get your mind off it all for a while.”
I think it over. Hanging around here isn’t doing me any good. Instead of feeling the loss of Alissa, I feel the loss of my dad, and it’s heavier than anything I could’ve imagined. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be there soon.” I hang up the phone and place the bottle on the coffee table in front of me. Snatching up my keys, I head toward my car.
I should be going to the party, but for some reason, I find myself driving toward my dad’s house, or I guess, Mason’s house.
Maybe I can get him to go to the party with me. I’m sure he needs to blow off steam as much as I do.
I pull up to the house and walk through until I find him sitting on the balcony. “There you are. Get up, let’s go.” I stumble around on the narrow wooden balcony.
“Go where, Dane?” he asks, watching me.
“To a party.”
“I’m not going to a party, Dane. By the looks of it, you don’t need to be going anywhere. Did you drive here?” He gives me the same look Dad always gave me when I did something I shouldn’t.
I wave him off. “Cheer up, little brother. Let’s go party.” I shove against his shoulder, wanting him to get up.
“Dane, I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. You can’t drive like that.”
Anger floods over me. I’ve been trying so hard to hold it all back, but it’s finally too much for me to deal with. “Fuck
you, Mase. You always did think you were better than me.” I turn and head back into the bedroom, wanting to leave. It holds too many memories that have been threatening to bring me down since I pulled into the driveway.
“What are you talking about? You’re drunk. You can barely stand. No way am I letting you drive. We’ve already lost a father, I’m not losing a brother, too,” he says following me. He grabs me by the arm, and I shove him away.
“Get the fuck off me.” The quick movement causes me to lose my balance, and I end up stumbling and falling backwards.
“Dane, don’t do this. Come on, just give me your keys, and you can crash here tonight.” His hands are up as he walks closer to me.
I try to push him away again, but the little shit is strong. He twists, wrapping his arms around me. I yell at him and try pushing against him, but he isn’t letting go. Finally, exhausted from the struggle, he takes us down to the floor.
My breathing is heavy and labored as I sit trying to calm down, everything rages on inside of me. The tears find their way back to my eyes. I pound my fist on the floor. “Why? Why is he gone?”
Mason doesn’t reply. He just sits beside me, letting me feel his presence.
“Bring him back. I swear, I’ll do anything, if you’ll just bring him back!” I’m so drunk, I don’t know who I’m even talking to. God, if there is one? Anyone who’ll listen and can make my request come true.
Mason doesn’t say anything. He can’t. I’m sure he feels the exact same way, plus there’s nothing he can say that’ll make it any better anyway.
Hours later, or maybe only minutes, I’m not sure because time has no meaning for me anymore, the tears stop. I’ve cried all I can. I wipe my cheeks and sit up, holding my head in my hands. “I can’t do this, Mase. I can’t be Dad. I can’t run his bar.”
“Dane, if anyone can do it, you can.”
“I’m the fuck-up of the family. The whole town is waiting to see how I fuck this one up.”
“Who gives a damn what they think? All that matters is that Dad knew you could do it. He wouldn’t have left it to you if he didn’t think you could handle it.”
Giving Up My Chance at Forever_Prequel Page 14
