Page 49 of Sterling Touch
Yeah, maybe I am a helicopter. I’ll be fucking Stealth bomber if I need to be when it comes to Hudson.
In my anger, I didn’t offer that the Stanton twins could come to our house.
“I don’t need guidance,” Hudson counters.
Everything in me wants to point out how he didn’t make his own dinner, didn’t launder the clean clothing he’s wearing, or pay for the camp he’s attending, but I bite my tongue.
“Well, hopefully you’ll be having too much fun to bother with what I’m doing, as I’ll be too busy making meals and cleaning up to be concerned with what you’re doing.”
Hudson looks up at me, his face befuddled, but I’m done with this discussion.
I have bigger concerns, like how I’m going to ignore his baseball coach, who gave me the hug of a lifetime, for the next few days.
20
[Vale]
When my brother was injured a year ago, his baseball career was cut short. In his late thirties, he knew his time as a professional player was coming to an end soon anyway, but no one wants to be told they can’t do something they love. We all want to go out on our own terms.
To everyone’s surprise, Ford gave up his home in Chicago and moved him and his girls back to Sterling Falls. It takes a village sometimes. Plus, Ford needed something to do with himself and my brothers helped build the plan Cadence, Ford’s fiancée, sparked. A sports camp.
As we pull up to the old hunting camp that once housed run down mini-log cabins and an even more rundown mess hall, the difference is stunning. The smaller houses have been painted, windows replaced, and the area around them cleaned up. A new dining-slash-community building was built aroundwhat could be salvaged of the previous hall. The inside is open and airy with vaulted ceilings and a second floor where Ford has an office and a suite for special guests.
I’ll have my own cabin; Ronnie Archer and her daughter have their own. Father-volunteers will be in a separate cabin, while coaches are in another one, keeping all the adults in strategic locations among the campers. Ford hired a nighttime security detail who will patrol among the cabins for extra eyes on the attendees and all our safety.
After checking in, Hudson takes his belongings to his assigned cabin while I head to mine, but within minutes Ronnie Archer is at my door.
“Icannotstay here,” she whines with her daughter behind her looking sheepish and embarrassed by her mother’s outburst.
The rooms are still rather rustic with two bunk beds and a sink in the corner. Communal bathrooms are at the opposite ends of the cabin strip. Because this simple lodging is intended for summer use, there isn’t any heat. The first days of May are not cold, but the evenings can still be chilly. Bundling beneath heavy covers will be necessary.
This is a camp, not a luxury hotel, and I shrug as I roll my thermal sleeping bag over the new mattress on a lower bunk and drop my pillow.
“I’m going to speak to Cort.” Spinning on heels not appropriate for the rough terrain of the outdoors, Ronnie leaves the cabin with her designer bag over her arm, Kennedy walking sullenly behind her.
Taking a seat on the mattress, I take a second look around the room, feeling like I’ve been transported intoThe Parent Trap. I never went to camp as a kid. Not only couldn’t we afford it, but I didn’t know of any in the area. My dad wouldn’t have let me go anyway.
Thoughts of my father rush in, as they do on rare occasions.All I’d ever known was a man who drank too much and swore at his children a lot. He was more physical with some of my brothers than others. Those not taking the abuse on their bodies, took it in their heads. Judd had it the worst. Ford was next in line on the rare instances he was home. He’d thrown himself into baseball, being driven and determined to get out of this town. Having given up his own dream, Stone strongly supported Ford’s.
With a heavy sigh, I run my hand over the smooth exterior of the sleeping bag beneath me. Guilt riddles me at the reminder of Stone and his dreams, and the betrayal he’d feel if he knew how close I’d been with his former friend. Stone was a good boy who turned into a great man, and I don’t deserve him as my brother.
With that thought, I stand and strengthen my resolve. I will keep my distance from Cortland Haven. I’m here to volunteer, to give my son an opportunity I never had. I will not helicopter him but enjoy my own slice of peace and tranquility. Although, admittedly, I wouldn’t mind mytime offbeing in a five-star resort instead.
Turnsout Ronnie Archer isn’t staying overnight at the camp but willing to drive back to her home each evening, taking Kennedy with her. She mentions it to me like it’s a hardship she’ll bear. She also isn’t much of a cook, being grossed out by the hot dogs and hamburgers on the menu for night one. She cuts out after the meal, during clean-up duty, and disappears. Not an ideal volunteer.
Unfortunately, Kennedy misses out on the after-dinner activities as well.
During dinner, I had a sideline view of how Clint and Cort interact with the kids. It’s funny how some men turn intochildren when surrounded by them, while others keep their distance, never forgetting they are the adult in the group. Cort falls somewhere in the middle. One minute laughing with the boys; the next pointing out how the kids need to eat the vegetables we tried to sneak into the meal.
Team building time commences after dinner, and I watch in wonder. Hudson interacts often with my brothers, especially Stone, but I still long for him to have a father of his own. Especially when I see the other two volunteers, both dads, running around the yard with the boys.
Moments like these bring back more old emotions about my own father. A man never present to play with his kids. Never encouraging their dreams or believing in their futures. Never offering a hug after a bad day or even on a good one. A man who chose to forget my birthday as it was the same day his wife died.
Tears prickle my eyes, and I fan my face wondering just what the heck brought all that on. Blinking back the water works, I look up to see Cort watching me.
“Hey, Hudson. What do you think? Should your mom be in?” Cort hollers to my son.
“Does she have to?” Hudson groans, and my heart sinks.
