“I was in deep contemplation of the spirit.”
We settled into my dad’s old, beat-up, white farm truck, him at the wheel and me attempting to make space for myself amid the spattering of hay, grain sacks, baling twine, saw, and a half-dozen loose tools flung around the passenger seat and floorboards.
“If you worked for me, I would fire you for your treatment of tools.”
“I’m finally getting ‘em broke in.”
Our easy banter carried us through part of the five-mile drive toward the sprawling pastureland at the base of Willow Creek Summit—my dad’s pride and joy and the place Kelsey got married three years earlier. It was only with one mile to go in our drive that I began to suspect ulterior motives on my dad’s part to trap me in a vehicle with him. Honestly, I grew up here, but what does ‘check the cows’ even mean? His fingers took turns flexing and relaxing on the wheel, and he shifted in his seat and rubbed his neck, glancing my way every so often. By the time he cleared his throat, I was looking around for an escape hatch but saw none—at least none I was willing to attempt while going my dad’s signature forty miles an hour. This wasn’t a drive to check the cattle. This was an ambush. A planned attack.
“Listen, Logan, I know on paper you’re too old to need your dad, alright? You’re a grown man, and your life is your business, and I mean to respect that. But there are times I wish I still had my dad around to talk to, so I’m gonna say my piece. Do with it what you will.”
I braced myself for what was to come. My dad loved me, sure as rain, but I sensed a disappointment behind his coming words, and for some reason, that thought gutted me.
Growing up, we had always gotten along fairly well. My dad was a guy who kept his relationships above all else. But as I grew older, ready to leave the nest, I became more of a stubborn mule than a decent son. I began thinking myself more experienced and knowledgeable in the world. Thinking I knew better about everything. My dad began hearing earfuls from me about the millions of different ways to make life on the farm easier and more technologically advanced, if only he’d listen. I could build him this or that. He could buy this machine, and it would cut our manual labor in half. Perhaps some of that was true, but now I realized that a man had to go about the world his own way. On his own terms. It took me some time to realize that my dad wasn’t necessarily after ease and comfort. He was after falling into bed each night with a weary body from his labors and a clear conscience from his efforts.
I understood that now.
Perhaps it was because I understood the sleepless nights that could come from an uneasy conscience.
He cleared his throat again. “Now, I don’t know what exactly is going on, but it doesn’t take an idiot to know you have something cooking with Jake. And it involves Tessa.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. My dad kept right on going, even as he parked in front of the gate to the pasture.
He looked over at me. “Am I right?”
I gripped my pants, holding back my fingers that were itching to open the door and make a run for it. “Yeah.”
“Why the games? You do know you’re old enough to settle down, right?”
You’re not marriage material.
You were just a good time.
Even now, six years later, those words still ruled over me, drove me into turning my life into a sick, self-fulfilling prophecy.
“I think we both know that I’m not good enough for Tessa Robbins, Dad.”
What was that burning behind my eyes? I said the words, and now I had the feeling like I wanted to get in the fetal position and suck my thumb. I bit my lip hard enough to give the sensation in my eyes the middle finger.
When my dad laughed, really laughed, he held nothing back. His head flew backward, and a big, gusty howl came flying out.
I breathed out a scoff, shaking my head in amazement.
He slapped his leg, and dust went flying. “Of course you’re not good enough for her. She’s a delight. I especially appreciate how she doesn’t seem to put up with much of your crap.”
I could do nothing but nod and agree, though it hurt a little.
He stopped laughing and looked at me, a softer gleam settling in his eyes. “You’re not good enough for her, just like I wasn’t good enough for your mom. But somehow, she still wantedme. Imperfect as I am. Some of us are lucky to know an upgrade when we see one.”
I knew Tessa was an upgrade. I could pretend this whole summer, thinking she was too young for me, too much like a sister, too…everything. But it all came down to one thing: I wasn’t worthy of Tessa Robbins. Not by a long shot.
“You want to know the secret of life for men like us, son? And this is a secret that will cut through all the bull crap.”
I wasn’t sure, but he waited until I nodded before he continued. “Find a good woman. And when you find her, marry her. And after you marry her, get out of her way. Because she’ll be the best thing to ever happen to you, and that will do more good for your life than all the money and all thetrucksin the world.” I looked at him in some version of alarm and amusement that our bet had been figured out, but he wasn’t finished. “If Tessa’s that woman, grab ahold of her, and don’t be an idiot.”
Now, it was my turn to rub at my neck.
Then, my dad surprised me. I thought he was done, winding down. From experience, I knew that both of us could only take an emotional pep talk for so long before we couldn’t look each other in the eye for a week.
