Deacon: Okay
After lunch, I check in with the other coaches and everything seems to be going well. Even though we haven’t even gotten to next season, the upper management is already making plans for next year. After texting for almost two hours, I hear the front door open and shut.
“Deacon?”
“I’m here, Dad.”
“I’ll be right out,” I tell him, sending a quick text.
“Hey, D,” I say, entering the living room.
“Hey, Dad.”
“How was school?”
“Fine,” he tells me, slumped on the couch, a video game controller in his hand, the game loading on the TV.
“That’s it?”
He looks up at me. “It’s not baseball season. Not much is going on.”
I just shake my head. D isn’t a big talker. And that’s okay. I just want to make sure I know what’s going on in his life. It’s hard being a dad who travels all the time and lives away from his kids. “Mind if I join you?”
“Okay.”
Grabbing the other controller, I join the baseball game Deacon is playing. We battle it out, and in the end, I beat his team by one point.
“Well, look at that!” I gloat. He just shrugs and loads another game.
“You in?” he asks, planning to play another game.
I glance down at my watch. It’s inching closer to 5:00 p.m. I want to see Layla tonight, maybe take her out to dinner. “Not this time.”
Grabbing my phone, I text Layla.
Gabe: I’ll pick you up at 7:00 pm. Home or office?
Layla: Home, I think.
Gabe: What’s your address?
Layla: 600 N Lake Shore Drive, #1206.
Gabe: I’m taking you to dinner.
Layla: What should I wear?
Gabe: Clothes
Layla: Haha. Dressy or casual?
Gabe: Dressy.
Layla:
Gabe:
I get to see Layla tonight and my heart couldn’t be happier. My life is better when she’s in it.
