In the Lyrics Page 27

  Leaning against the closed front door, he looks nervous. “I guess that’s it then. I hope you have a good Thanksgiving. I’m about to head to the airport and go home to see my brother.”

  Words escape me as I lean forward and hug him. No one should ever have to go through what he and his family did, and as the pain in his face accompanies those words, I can’t help myself. I’ve tried to play it cool, to act like I don’t care, to hide the feelings that are still there, but I can’t. Not now, not when his words cut me like broken glass.

  Tilting my head up, he gently lowers his mouth and kisses my forehead. One would think it was an innocent gesture, but not me. I know it’s a sign that he still cares too. He has to. Look how often we’ve stumbled upon one another this past week. It can’t just be coincidence. It has to mean more. My dad’s death has to mean more. I’ve never really been a big believer in fate and all that garbage, but I was never a big believer in love and happily-ever-afters either until Colby came along.

  “Would you like a ride to the airport?” I ask quickly, and stand as still as a statue waiting for his response.

  “Actually, yeah. I’d appreciate that. I was going to leave my truck there.”

  “Where’s Brittani? Why couldn’t she drop you off?” Curiosity killed the cat and I almost regret asking, but I want to know.

  “I really want to explain that situation to you. It isn’t at all what you think. I know it looks like it, but it isn’t. I promise I will explain it, just not right now. Okay?”

  I want to stop him and force him to tell me. I want to hold him and then fall to my knees and tell him I still love him, but I don’t. I refrain from doing either and simply swallow and nod.

  THE ROLES ARE reversed as Hensley stands behind me with tears that threaten to break with each wave of goodbye. Turning around for the tenth time, I catch a glimpse of the only girl who’s ever captured my heart so easily and just as easily broke it.

  I try to picture myself in her shoes as I walk down the long hallway towards my awaiting plane. Did she feel this exact same way when she left me? Did she contemplate turning around and running back, just to see me one last time, like I am right now? Hell, I don’t even know when she’s planning on flying back to California. What if this is it and it’s the world’s way of finding closure? Her sending me off, like I sent her.

  My feet shuffle forward as my brain and heart battle in the boxing ring that’s taken residence in my head since she came back to town. I know what we had is gone, I know she crushed me and didn’t even bat an eyelash, and I know she’s some big time country music singer now. I know all of that, but what I don’t know is why I still feel drawn to her? Debating on turning back around and running towards her, I glance behind me and see a steady traffic of passengers, and I know I can’t turn back now.

  THE PLANE RIDE was smooth and I’m greeted by my Pops at the airport. I didn’t expect him, but he said that Momma was too busy preparing our meal to leave the house. It’s a rare occurrence that he is sober enough to drive, so his presence takes me off guard. He silently walks beside me, hands in his pockets. He seems nervous as we pick up my bag and walk towards the elevator that brings us to the third floor of the parking garage.

  “Wanna take a ride with me?” he asks as I toss my bag in the bed of the truck.

  “Doesn’t look like I have an option. You’re driving me, remember?”

  Shaking his head, we both climb into his truck and drive out of the airport parking garage.

  As we drive, I think back to last Thanksgiving and how much has changed.

  “What’s on your mind, Son?”

  Since when does he call me “Son,” and when did he start caring enough to ask questions?

  “Nothing, Pops,” I snarl as I jerk my head towards the window. Trees and fields of farmland pass by, and silence fills the truck.

  Minutes go by before he says, “Listen, Colby, I know I failed you as a father. I get it you hate me and might never forgive me, but I still love you. I still want to know what’s going on in your life. If something’s on your mind, I want to know. Maybe I could even lend a shoulder to ya.”

  Considering we’re stuck in the truck and I have no one else to talk to, I open up to him for the first time in years. Starting from the beginning, I tell him the tale of Colby and Hensley. His eyes stay focused on the road, but I can tell he is listening, taking in every word. Which is also a weird occurrence. Normally when I greet him in passing or he happens to answer the phone, he just grunts and hands the phone to Momma. There’s never any real communication.

  “So, let me get this straight, you turned down a record deal for a girl?”

  Hanging my head in shame, I answer him. “Yes, sir.”

  “You loved her that much that you gave up the biggest opportunity of your life so you could be with her every day?”

  “I guess it doesn’t make sense when you word it like that, but yes, I did. I love her, Pops, more than anything, ever. She filled a void that Levi’s death left in my heart, and when she left, the void slowly reappeared. I know it’s dumb. Just forget I mentioned it…”

  He looks over at me and then back at the road. “It’s not dumb, Son, and if you were able to make such a decision based on your feelings then, I know it must’ve been the right one. I’m only sorry that I didn’t pay much attention to her when y’all were here together before. She must be something special to have you throwing away your only dream for.”

  “She was.”

  She is.

  “Where are we going anyhow?” Looking out the window I have no idea where we are. I didn’t realize how long we’ve been on the road.

  “I’m taking you to a place…well, you’ll see.”

  About ten minutes later we pull up to a small, brick building located in the heart of town. I’ve seen it a handful of times, but I’ve never gone in. I always figured it was a doctor’s office or a small clinic.

  We get out of the car, and I follow my Pops towards the entrance. There’s a small icon on the glass front door that reads, “12 Step Fellowship. Alcoholics Anonymous, LLC.”

  Stopping in my tracks, I reread the small white sticker on the door. Is he really sober? And if so, for how long?

  Looking up, he doesn’t meet my gaze as my eyes fall on his face. I don’t know whether he’s too embarrassed or what, but he continues to look past me.

  “Larry, is that you?” a man’s voice asks from behind my Pops.

  As he turns around so his back is to me, he nods and greets the man, who appears to be much older than he is.

  “This is my son, Colby. I figured he’d want to be here for this.”

  The older man lifts up his hand and firmly places it on my Pops’ shoulder. “I think you’re right. The more the merrier and today is a day of celebration! Come on, you better get seated so we can get started. There are some refreshments and donuts if you’re hungry.”

  Following my Pops into a large room, there are people packed in it like sardines. Rows and rows of seating face a small podium. The structure takes me back to grade school and I wonder what is going on. Several older people, both men and women, have what I assume to be their kids with them. Most of them are my age, but there are some children that are a little younger.

  The man who I was introduced to as Leon asks everyone to be seated, and then he starts to speak. “I’d like to thank each and every one of you for the courage it took to come out here tonight. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that it’s short. Extremely short, so I won’t talk your ears off for too long.” The people surrounding me laugh. I don’t see what’s so funny, and I’m sitting wondering what is going on. “First and foremost, I think it is only fitting that we start off with the Serenity Prayer. Please say it with me: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

  Voices recite the prayer with him. After it’s finished, several people start to snif
fle, alerting me that they’re crying.

  “I’d like to start with our six-month members. As I call your name, please stand. Let your presence be known. Show your family just how proud you are.”

  Leon starts rambling off names and people around me start to stand. Finally he says the last name. It’s the only one that grabs my attention, “Larry Grant.”

  My dad stands and accepts a small medallion from a woman who is walking around. He holds it up, examines it and then rolls it around in his hand a few times before stuffing it in his pocket. Leon goes on about what a great accomplishment it is to be sober for six months and how this token is a representation of the length of one’s sobriety. A few of the members walk up to the front of the room and speak; sometimes their kids or spouses even say something. Most of them cry and thank Leon and their sponsors for their continued support. My Pops doesn’t say a word. He sits and listens, much like me. I can’t believe that my old man is actually sober and has been for six months. Momma never mentioned it to me. I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be happy and want to tell me, but maybe it was her way of letting him tell me as he saw fit; him inviting me here to witness this ceremony was him telling me in his own way.

  After the six-month tokens are passed out, they move on to the one-year tokens, and before I know it there isn’t a dry eye in the building, except for mine and my old man’s. The ceremony comes to an end, and instead of standing around and chit-chatting, we leave. I’m thankful that he didn’t want to stay. I’m tired from my flight and still trying to grasp the fact that he’s actually sober.

  Walking to the truck, we get in and he drives home.

  “What provoked you to stop drinking?” I ask, curious as to the real reason.

  “I did something I’m not proud of, and it made me realize how out of it I was. My reality wasn’t real anymore. I wasn’t living in the real world, and the booze was slowly suffocating me. I knew I had to make a change or I was going to die. I was going to kill myself, but your momma stopped me and I hit her…”

  I warned him, and he did it regardless.

  He continues as he peers out the front window, “The next morning, I woke up on the floor. When I found her, she was in our bedroom packing a suitcase. Her eye was blackened and her lip was cut. The sight was horrifying, but what was worse was realizing I did that. My drinking did it. That night I called up the church and told ‘em I needed help. They hooked me up with Leon from AA and I’ve been going daily for the last six months.”

  Hatred clouds my vision, “I fucking told you not to lay a hand on her!” I scream.

  “Colby, calm down. Just wait until we’re home. If you want to beat the tar outta me, I’ll let you, but not while I’m driving. You’ll get us both killed.”

  My temper flares, as we drive home. As soon as he puts the truck in park, I hop of out the passenger side door.

  “Why, Pops? I want to know why you abandoned us. He died, okay. There’s no going around it. He died, but it wasn’t your fault! We all suffered because of it, and you just turned to the bottle like an escape. Don’t you think Momma and I wanted to flee our reality too? But we couldn’t because we were too worried about your drunk ass!”

  Grabbing my bag from the bed of the truck, he lays it in front of me. There’s a look in his eyes I’ve never seen before. Instead of feeling sorry for him or even proud of his change in lifestyle, it enrages me more. I reach forward and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards me. My words don’t form full sentences as I shout in his face. “You ruined us. This wasn’t your fault. I warned you not to hit her!”

  I’m not used to him not fighting back. This argument is different than any we’ve had before, and instead of him yelling and screaming in my face, it’s me acting like the asshole.

  “I’m not going to fight you, Son. All the fight’s gone outta me. Clobber me if it will make you feel better, but I’m not going to…”

  His pleas hit me down deep. Pulling him closer to me by the collar, I let go of his shirt and wrap my arms around him. Tears escape my eyelids as he hugs me back tightly. This version of him reminds me of the father I had while growing up. The one who took me to football practices and taught me to ride a horse and was patient and kind. The man standing before me resembles that man, and the wrinkles on his face tell their own stories of heartache. Can people change? Is he really sorry?

  “Go on and go see your momma. I got to lend a hand to Eddie now.”

  Pulling away from my embrace, he shoos me.

  Throwing my backpack over my shoulder, I grab my other bag and walk towards the house. The front of my shirt is wet from the tears that flowed down my cheeks.

  “Momma?” I ask as I open the door and lean down to rest my bags on the couch.

  “In here, baby.”

  Walking towards the kitchen, the smell of baked apples makes my mouth water.

  “Oh, Colby. Come here.” She waves me towards her as soon as her eyes meet mine.

  Holding me close like she did when I was younger, she runs her hands through my hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. It’s okay now; no more crying. Things are going to change. I promise you,” she whispers.

  Leaning forward, I kiss her on the forehead and then walk to the table and sit down. There’s already a piece of pie and a glass a milk waiting for me.

  She fills me in on the happenings of that night, and my temper shows its ugly little head again. Reminding me that it’s a thing of the past, I know that sometimes things have to get harder before they get better. They’ve been as hard as possible around here for a while now; I guess we’re long due for some good in our lives.

  “I just don’t get why you stayed with him for so long. He acted like an ass…”

  Smacking my hand she cuts me off, “Watch your mouth, boy.”

  “Sorry, Momma. But why did you stick with him for so long? You have the patience of a saint to have put up with him and the drinkin’ for so long. I couldn’t handle it. I had to get away.”

  Sighing, she takes a deep breath and takes a seat next to me at the table.

  “In my day and age people didn’t fall out of love and they didn’t get divorced. He’s sick and I’m his wife. I made a pledge in front of our congregation, family, and God to stick by him through sickness and health. I still love him, Colby, despite his flaws. The man I fell in love with when we were your age is still in there. He’s just been lost. I couldn’t give up hope that he’d find his way home.”

  She must’ve been a counselor in a previous life because she’s right. Once you love someone and give your heart to them, they own it. Trials and triumphs come along the way, but true love can overcome all of it. At least it’s supposed to.

  Pops is still outside, so I decide to open up to my momma about Hensley. My heart and mind are in a tug-of-war match. Maybe she’ll have some wise insight into this situation as well.

  “If she loves you half as much as I know you love her, you need to be the bigger person and tell her, honey. You’ve also got to understand that music was her dream way before you came along. There’s got to be a happy medium. You can have your pie and eat it too, contrary to what people believe. It is possible, you just have to go about it right. So either you throw in the towel and decide she isn’t worth fighting for, or suck up your pride and tell her how you feel. I wasn’t ready to throw my towel in, and your father took long enough, but he came around. He chose me and you over the booze. Maybe she can’t exactly choose music or you, but you can mix the two.”

  “You’re right, thank you.”

  Kissing her on the cheek, I grab my bags from the living room and go up to my room. I’m exhausted from today and as soon as my head hits my pillow, I’m out. My dreams are filled with a brunette girl, running around a field…running towards me with open arms.

  MY FATHER CARVES the turkey for the first time in years as my momma hums along to a Christmas carol from the radio. Dinner isn’t ready yet, so I decide to take this time to go see my brother.

&nb
sp; “I’m going to go see Levi for a little bit; I’ll be back in time for supper.”

  Pops hands me his truck keys and I walk outside. Noticing Eddie’s truck is gone, I remember Momma saying last night that they were going to let our family celebrate alone this year.

  The drive to the cemetery isn’t as daunting as it normally is. Putting the gearstick into park, I open my door and walk towards my brother.

  His grave is just how I remember it. Cold and lonely. Kneeling down, I tell him about Pops and how he’s been sober for six months and about Momma’s apple pie. And then I tell him about the girl who stole my heart. My eyes tear up when I tell him about her coming back to town and how badly I want to whisk her away and go somewhere. I want to start over; I want her to be mine again, even if she is the one who called it quits. For some reason, I don’t think that matters anymore, whose fault it was. Really it was mine, I know that. I lied in the first place. I set this whole ordeal into motion. I did this, and now I want her back and there’s only one way to do that. A sense of relief washes over me.

  “So that’s it, bro. I’m going to tell her how I feel. I have to. She’s my other half, my soul mate. If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, at least I know I tried. That I tried like hell.”

  Leaning down, I rub my hand over the small picture of Levi’s face that is etched into the tombstone and I know with certainty what I have to do.

  Speeding home, my Pops greets me at the door.

  “Just in time, Son. Go on and get washed up, and then meet us in the dining room.”

  Running up the stairs two by two, I wash my hands and throw all of my stuff into my backpack. After dinner, I’m leaving.

  “What’s got you in such a hurry?” my old man asks as I sit down in front of him and pull my napkin over my lap.

  “I think I’m going to head out early, if that’s okay with you both?”

  Pops stops spooning the mashed potatoes onto his plate, as he and Momma both stare at me.