Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Mom.” The word was said with happiness and reverence. “I haven’t been fishing since I was in Texas. Dad never goes anymore. He spends all his time partying and drinking. It never stops. He drives to work with a bloody Mary as his breakfast.”
Her jawline set firm, a frown carved into her face. It took several quiet moments until she shook her head, freeing the expression. “Let’s focus on the next twenty-four hours.”
“I’m working on my vocabulary for you,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“I noticed. I’m proud of you.”
I nodded and reached out to take her hand. She’d been handed the blows just like me. Life had to get better. It couldn’t be worse.
Another ten months later
Southlake, Texas
At my college graduation, I sat on stage waiting to give my overly pre-rehearsed speech, staring at the sea of families who came to support their graduates. However mine wasn’t among the throngs there at Moody Coliseum. Their failure to show might actually be my fault. I couldn’t remember if I’d mentioned it to them or not.
Since moving out of my childhood home, I hadn’t seen much of my parents. My mother lived full time in Paris. As for my father… Well, he was everywhere, all the time. Both seemingly forgetting that, at eighteen, I was barely of age in the state of Texas.
I didn’t care.
While listening to Herb Kelleher of Southwest Airlines give his commencement speech, I casually crossed one leg over the other, trying my best to stifle a yawn. Over time, somewhere in the last two years, I had learned to appreciate a good, relaxing happy hour. A time of day Chandler claimed was somewhere between two in the afternoon and six in the morning.
Although I wasn’t aligned with his schedule, I did embrace the moments of unwinding that helped lift the weight I’d been carrying for years.
Maybe my lack of caring was due to another timeline accomplishment that I wanted with Beau, and missed again. His name vibrated through me, taking my breath away. My obsession with him had faded over time.
For my own mental health, I had stashed him away until he came back to me. In the meantime, I took life head-on, focusing on building my life in such a way that I could always support us. I admitted it seemed silly. The likelihood of him coming for me seemed smaller by the year, but I wasn’t ready to let go of the dream. It hurt too bad.
I texted him this morning, letting him know I was graduating. My mind blocked everything out as I imagined staring at him, sitting out with all the families, watching me achieve my goals. Tears gathered in my eyes as everyone faded, leaving only Beau there, smiling at me.
Suddenly, an elbow nudged my arm, snapping me out of my Beau-induced thoughts. The world and my obligations zipped back into place. “They called your name. Go give your speech.”
The audience’s laughter had to mean they’d called me a few times. I stood, looking around for my notes until I patted my gown. The woman sitting next to me saved the day again, reaching below my chair for the index cards.
“Thank you.” I had a five-minute speech to give. Yeehaw.
2004
Samford University, Birmingham, Alabama
“Man, do you ever fucking speak?” I slowly lifted my gaze from the textbook in my lap to my roommate, Brock. A guy who had more personality and confidence than anyone had a right to have. He was borderline arrogant. My brows dropped at his tone, and I pulled an earbud free, letting the music still play in one ear. The earbuds and MP3 player were a graduation gift from my mom.
As a football player, I was required to live on campus. Apparently, living outside my father’s constant attention hadn’t changed too much for me. I didn’t talk much, I was unsociable, and I performed like the monkey he’d trained me to be. Well, I wasn’t entirely out of his sphere. My jerk of a father continued to impact my daily life as the new director of football operations for the college I attended.
Every time I considered his new position, I gave an inner chuckle. Despite all his local boasting about where the pair of us might land, how he wouldn’t settle for anything less than an assistant coach position, he was the lowest coach on the totem pole...
The laughter bubbled out, probably making me look psychotic to Brock.
The only institution to extend me and my father an offer was Samford University, a Christian college in Birmingham, Alabama. The darkly hilarious part was that my father struggled with alcoholism and found himself in a setting that prohibited alcohol on campus and required their staff to project responsibility and restraint all the time.
“What?” I asked.
“Your cell phone’s going off.” Only after hearing the next ding did I register the sound. I leaned toward the well-worn dorm-assigned end table and grabbed the cell phone my father had gotten for me. I was only allowed the phone and a driver’s license once my father received his first DUI and needed me to pick him up. This phone, like my other, had limited minutes a month, all in which my shitty old man used regularly. His latest DUI resulted in a forced breathalyzer. He’d been damn mad about that one.