“Shit, you’re right. Okay, so it’ll probably be closer to thirty minutes,” he corrected. “I’m sure he’s already in his jammies and under the blankets in my room. I probably shouldn’t bribe him with TV, but it’s the only way to get him to listen to me.”
Against my better judgment, I walked over to Michael and placed my hands on his shoulders. Friends could do that when they wanted the other person to listen, right? “You don’t have to keep explaining yourself to me,” I assured him. “Yeah, you didn’t make the best first impression, or second for that matter, but I really don’t think you’re a shitty dad. I think you’re probably overwhelmed, but that’s something you can learn to work around. Now, go and spend time with him. I’m going to take you up on the offer for a soda and TV while I wait, because network selection out here seriously sucks and I won’t have cable for a few days yet.”
“Make yourself at home,” Michael offered. “I’ll be down as soon as he passes out. Hopefully, today’s adventures will have him ready to go to sleep pretty quick.”
“Sounds good,” I said, waving him off.
* * *
I wokeup to the feeling of someone shaking my shoulder. I scrubbed my hands over my face, trying to figure out where in the hell I was. One thing was for damn sure, I didn’t want to move from where I’d stretched out on the couch. It wasn’t my own piece of crap. It was deep and just firm enough to be comfortable without feeling like it wasn’t meant to sit on.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Michael said softly when I cracked my eyes open. As everything came into focus, I had a hard time distinguishing my dreams about Michael from the man looking down at me.
“Sorry, I guess I dozed off,” I apologized as I sat up against the arm of the couch, leaving my left leg stretched out over the cushions. “This couch is lethal.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Michael agreed. He sat at the opposite end. When I went to swing my leg off the couch, his hand clamped down on my shin. “You’re fine. Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
We both stared at where his hand rested on top of my leg. Likely trying to return the favor from earlier, he began gently rubbing my calf. Oh, how easy it would’ve been to stop him by telling him he’d have to go much higher to get to where I hurt the worst.
I’d always done well avoiding talking about the accident, but something about Michael had me wondering why. Could I tell him about the accident? No. No one other than Matt knew all the details of that night. It was an event I wished had never happened. When the pain shot through my body, I considered it a reminder that I was lucky my stupidity and self-hatred hadn’t gotten me killed.
No, my life wasn’t perfect, but standing on this side of everything I’d gone through, I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought life wasn’t worth living. Life was hard, and sometimes it sucked balls, but it took almost dying and then having a no-bullshit doctor to show me that no one had it easy.
“I had an accident a few years ago,” I told him, hoping that’d be enough explanation for him. He swallowed hard and nodded, but didn’t press me to share anything more. I picked up the remote and turned off the television so I could focus on Michael. I wanted to get to know him without any distractions. You know, because it’d be good to start making friends in town, not because I wanted him or anything. “So, he’s asleep?”
“Yeah, finally.” Michael sounded exhausted. He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. “I love him, but sometimes he’s a handful. I keep telling myself that people all over the world do this parenting thing alone, but then he sneaks away from me and I wonder how they do it, because I sure as hell can’t.”
“You’re doing fine,” I told him. If he were closer, I’d reach out to him. “He’s being a kid. Between his need to test your limits and his desire to get out there and explore, he’s bound to get into some trouble. But I can tell you love him, and even if he doesn’t show it in a way you can understand, I can tell he thinks the world of you, too.”
“You sound pretty sure of that. You have kids of your own?” he asked. “Shit, did I pull you away from your own family tonight?”
I shook my head. “Nope, it’s just me.”
“Great, now I really feel like a tool. You’re better with kids than I am, and you don’t even have any.” The self-deprecating shit was getting old. Quick.
“Yeah, well most of my knowledge is from books,” I told him. He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. “I went to school for elementary education.”
“I see.” He looked over my attire, from my tight black T-shirt all the way down to the white athletic socks on my feet. As if that wasn’t confusing enough to him, he glanced toward the door at the motorcycle boots I still wore almost every day. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but nothing about you screams teacher.”
“No offense taken,” I said, laughing because that was pretty much what everyone said when they saw me. I’d thought about changing my style to fit in wherever I wound up teaching, but had decided against that. No, I wouldn’t wear ripped-up jeans and T-shirts to school, but I wasn’t going to be a stuffy teacher in a suit and tie, either.
“Did you always know that’s what you were going to do with your life?”
“No, I spent most of my childhood thinking I’d wind up being a rock star,” I told him. That was something people who knew me as a kid knew, but no one in my life since the accident was aware of my silly, unrealistic dreams. The ones that had fallen apart and led me to make more reckless choices than I could count.
“Seriously?” I nodded. “That’s one hell of a leap.”
“It was, but I don’t regret it,” I told him honestly. If given the chance, I’d actually reached a point where I’d thank Caleb for leaving me behind. If I’d followed him, I’d have eventually succeeded at killing myself. And my life was turning out to be pretty damn good.
“So how does one go from wanting to be up on stage playing music every night to teaching?” he pressed when I didn’t offer any more information. This wasn’t something I wanted to talk about. Not tonight, not when we were finally getting along.
“After the accident, I realized it was up to me to make something of my life,” I offered. “And my kindergarten teacher was the one who had the most impact on me, so I followed in her footsteps.” I hoped he’d drop it, but I could see the next question forming in his mind. There was no way to give him any more than that without revealing what my life had been like prior to the accident.
Not willing to risk him continuing with this line of interrogation, I took control of the conversation. “How about you? What do you do?”
“I’m a bartender.” That was cool. I knew plenty of people who absolutely loved working behind the bar, slinging drinks and talking to customers all night. It also explained a bit of the disconnect between Michael and his son. Bartender’s hours couldn’t be easy, unless Jagger split his time between his parents.
“Does he go to his mom’s on the nights you have to work?” So much for not prying into his life. And fuck, was his lower lip quivering like he was about to fucking cry? Dammit, I really needed to learn to shut up sometimes. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”
