“I think it’s past time we caught up. What’s it been, ten years? More?” Jake crooked his arm toward Chloe, but Sam stepped in.
“She’s working, Jake. Besides, I think I have the first dance.”
Chloe glanced between them then down at her work clothes. “Afraid I’m not dressed for a party or a dance, boys.” She and Laura Kate disappeared back into the kitchen as more and more people arrived. The place filled up with family, long-time friends, and town leaders.
A couple of Frank’s old Rock Mill High buddies slapped Sam on the back and greeted him, launching into football talk before he could say, “I’m fine. How are you?”
Then Janice announced,He’s coming, and the guests surged forward as the man of the hour descended the staircase with the air that he was the king of his castle.
“Happy birthday, Frank!”
Someone started a rendition of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” which Sam could not sing. He loved his father. But he did not like him.
Frank made the rounds shaking hands, clapping shoulders, you-ole-dogging the high school football buddies—they still met once a month for poker and beer. Then he saw Sam. For a moment, it seemed as though his dad’s eyes glistened, but Sam was sure it was just his imagination.
“Happy birthday.” Sam extended his own hand.
“Thank you, son. Thank you for coming.” His father shook his hand, then pulled him close and clapped him on the back. “H-how’s your knee?”
“Getting there. I’m hopeful for the season.”
“Good, good. We’ve got our season tickets. We’ll be there no matter what.”
The confession struck a deep chord in Sam. One he’d thought he had completely walled off from his father’s reach. Frank had always been his number one football fan. He also loved the Titans. When they drafted Sam nine years ago, Frank was with him and his agent in Indianapolis. The image of Frank’s face when the Titans called his name in the first round would forever live in Sam’s memory. Pride. Frank had been proud.
But that changed nothing about what Frank had done to their family. To Mom.
“Hey, I want to talk to you about something,” Frank said. “You got a minute?”
“Now? Frank, this is your big birthday party. We’ll talk later.” Sam gestured to the crowd as Janice made her way toward them.
She slipped her hand through Frank’s arm, and together they worked the room.
Sam leaned against the wall, watching, wondering if Chloe and Laura Kate had snuck away. In spite of the group surrounding him, it seemed lonely without her nearby.
Snatches of conversations floated to him. “…tourism on the uptick…” “…Top 40 and movie soundtrack…” “…filing process…” Frank’s voice and laughter stood out above everyone else’s.
Finally, Janice led Frank to the cake table. “We’re going to sing “Happy Birthday”—where’s Buck Mathews?” The country music star strolled out of the kitchen with his guitar and a mini sandwich. “Buck, you raided the food already?”
“I told you, Janice, I sing for food.”
The guests erupted with laughter. Sam caught Buck’s eye and they chin nodded each other.
“Well, then I’ll just cancel my check.” Janice winked. “Listen, y’all, we’ll sing, cut the cake, and then you can load up your plates. We’ve got tables inside and out, with a fire blazing in every possible place and pit to keep y’all warm.” The guests laughed and Sam had to admit Janice was charming. “Buck?”
Buck strummed his guitar and launched into “Happy Birthday.” Harmonies and melodies intermingled as the mix of seventy friends, family, and colleagues honored Frank Hardy.
Why couldn’t Sam do the same? He cleared his throat and joined in on the last two lines. If he was going to prove to Dr. Morgan that he’d forgiven his father for the past, he’d best sing him a happy birthday song.
But he wasn’t over it, was he? Not entirely. Pain shot from his knee up his thigh. Sam leaned hard against the wall.
“Look at this gorgeous cake.” Janice handed Frank the cutter. “From Haven’s. Meredith’s daughter, Chloe LaRue, made it.”
Sam glanced around to see Meredith smiling from the fringes of the party. He inched through the crowd to say hello and wish her well with her health.
“Love this cake. Howard, grab your nine iron. We’ll shoot a few rounds.” Frank took a bite of the slice on his plate. “Edible golf? I’ve died and gone to heaven.” The guests rewarded his quip with a hearty laugh.
Janice instructed everyone to grab a plate, and Sam made his way around the room to head outside.
