I'm already moving before my brain catches up with me, "I'm on my way."
Chapter Thirty-One
Atlas
Twenty minutes later, I'm walking into Woody's.
It's busy, as it usually is on Saturdays especially during football and basketball season. I weave my way through the crowd, not exactly sure why I'm even here.
I could say that I just want to hang out with my friend Trace on a Saturday night, but that would be a lie. I'm not entirely here for the man sitting at the bar, backwards hat on, still in his usual Hayes & Sons t-shirt, jeans, and boots.
I feel a little ridiculous in my own baseball cap that’s pulled low, my flannel jacket, and jeans, but I'm incognito.
I don't want Wendy to see me and feel awkward, because she's here to have fun with Taylor—when's the last time she even had a night out with Taylor—and I want her to have a good time.
I'm just here to make sure that she does... and that no one bothers her.
And I need to see with my own eyes that she's safe.
My wife likes music and loves to dance. On our sporadic nights out with friends, we'd come here with Taylor and Trace, and the girls would go out to the dance floor while we hung out at the bar.
My eyes wouldn't stray from my wife for long, checking to make sure she was safe and having fun, while watching the game or just talking with the guys.
Inevitably, because my wife is beautiful, some guy would get too close. I would pop out of my chair instantly, stepping in between them and sending the guy aget lostlook. I had perfected that look over the years.
Then I would pull Wendy close, not so much dancing as just enjoying her body against mine. She'd kiss me, tell me she was having fun, and that she loved me.
This woman, this gorgeous, beautiful woman, is my wife and mother to my children.
So, I sit at the bar next to Trace, my cap low over my face, and my eyes where they belong—looking for Wendy.
Trace turns to me with a bemused smirk.
"Sorry, do I know you?"
"Shut up."
Trace laughs, slapping my back. "Good to see you, man."
The bartender comes over, and I just order a soda. Dr. Newman recommends no drinking on my meds.
Truthfully, I don't want to drink. I've been feeling really good lately, and I don't want to introduce anything into my body that could jeopardize my newly stable state.
"How you been feeling?"
"Better," I answer Trace, happy that it's the honest truth. "Just... still a little lost without Wendy."
Trace nods, not taking his eyes off the game and raising his beer to his lips.
He comments absentmindedly, "Yeah, houses usually fall apart without their cornerstone."
I pause, his words settling themselves in my chest.
"A cornerstone..."
Yeah.
That's Wendy.
