“I promise you, we’ll do a good job, and you’ll thank us for it later.”
We have a minor stare-off across the dancing flames, and then Sam scoffs and pulls up his phone one more time.
Trip’s handsome face comes up on the screen, and he’s clearly just come in from handling the horses. He’s got a bit of dirt on his face and his beat-up baseball cap has seen better days.
“Hey, Trip, these guys insist that you listen to them play the song that neither of us knows anything about. Are you down for some Bash brothers humiliation?”
A broad, bright grin crosses his face and he laughs. “Sure, buddy. Bring it.”
“Who’s that?” A grumbly voice says off-screen.
“It’s the guys next door. They’re going to play ‘More Than Words’ for me and Sam.”
A mid-forties version of Trip Goodnight’s handsome face comes onto the screen. “Can y’all do it justice?”
“Yes, sir,” we answer simultaneously.
“All right then, show these two young ones what they’re missing.”
Anders starts the song up again, the old guitar well-tuned and richly resonant. I sing the simple lyrics and Anders harmonizes with me in all the right places. Even my mom pipes in, hitting some of the higher notes with us. The song ends with Anders and me in perfect harmony, followed by a moment of silence.
“Now that’s a damned fine rendition,” the older Goodnight says, an easy smile on his face.
I turn to Sam. “What do you think?”
He points to himself. “This is my impressed face. Also, that song is totally talking about sex.”
Anders grins. “True story.”
Our mother, who is no prude, shakes her head. “No, it’s not. It’s about the fact that saying I love you is easy, but real love is proved in the doing. Love is a verb, my three sons, and if you love someone, you have to put up or shut up.”
“Hear, hear!” says the older Goodnight.
“Thanks for teaching me that song, y’all,” Trip says, smiling broadly through the screen.
We end the call with the Goodnights and Samuel’s face is a kaleidoscope of emotion. I share a glance with my mother, who winks at me as she grabs his hand. His smile is unsteady but growing.
Dashing away a few tears, he laughs and then refocuses on the fire. “The twins have been holding out on us. I didn’t know that Anders could play guitar like that, and I sure as hell didn’t know that Odd can sing.”
Anders bumps shoulders with him. “We get busy with other things, but it is nice to relax like this every once in a while.”
We spend the rest of the evening around the fire pit, taking requests and introducing young Sam to some truly great guitar classics. And we feel like a family.
4
DeShaun
It’s just before seven a.m., and I’m making my way into Austin from Dallas for the first time in over two months. I stop at my favorite Whataburger in Hillsboro, grab a B.O.B. and, sue me, a sweet tea. The team’s been doing well without my presence, so I spoke to Thane a few weeks ago and he agreed to run the Guardians for me. This trip is for me to announce that I am officially stepping away from managing the team.
I know Thane suspects the reason I’m stepping back is Odd. While I can't deny he's a factor, the larger reason is that every single time I participate in an op, even if I’m just in my condo watching on the laptop, I end up with nightmares. Full-color flashbacks of the worst days of my life, which leave me twisted up in bed, my knee throbbing.
I’ve videoed in for a couple of meetings, but this feels like something that should be done in person. Still, I’m just making it a quick in and out, not even spending the night.
The trip from Dallas to Austin takes anywhere from three hours to an entire day, depending on the traffic, the weather, and the scheduling vagaries of TxDOT’s repair teams. Thankfully, traffic is light this morning, and as I head southbound on I-35, I allow my thoughts to drift toward nostalgia and the first time I met Odd Bash.
* * *
“DeShaun Blaylock?”
