Page 94 of Mountain Man

“You remember?”

Just talk. Tell him how he fucked you up. Tell him that his expectations were a noose around your neck. Tell him about that football game—the one where he caught you staring at Coop. Tell him that made you feel ashamed, made you feel small, made you wish you were someone else. Tell him you spent the first thirty years of your life living up to his idea of what a man was supposed to be and so much of it was utter bullshit. Tell him it sucks that to this day he’s never once told you he’s proud that you’re the goddamned chief of police.

Say the words, get them off your chest.

But I looked at my father with his haunted eyes and his air of perpetual uncertainty, and those ugly feelings ebbed away. Dark indigo fading into pale shades of blue.

He couldn’t remember.

And maybe I couldn’t forget, but I could forgive.

“I don’t know,” Dad said in a wobbly tone. “I don’t…remem⁠—”

“Sorry. It’s okay. It’s⁠—”

“No, let me finish.” He pressed fingers to his temple and closed his eyes briefly. “You’re mad at me, like the woman was mad at you. Your wife. She wants something from you. You want something from me…and we all are empty-handed. I don’t know what I did, what I said, but I remember that I love my son. And I want him to be happy.”

I was stunned and speechless.

“I love you, too, Dad.”

Dad picked up the sander with a nod. “When’s the mountain man coming? I haven’t got all day.”

I shook my head, reaching for a piece of sandpaper as I clandestinely dabbed at my eyes. “Soon, Dad. Soon.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Yeah. He’s my boyfriend.”

“I knew it.”

There was a lesson here, I was sure of it. Just not the one I’d expected. This one was rooted in forgiveness, patience, and something that felt like surrender.

Waylon strolled in a little later, carrying a bag from Mill Depot. He dropped it on the table and set his hand on my shoulder.

He didn’t move it, my dad didn’t mention it, and somehow, that was enough.

The small gesture was our slice of truth nudging at the fragility of peace. And undisturbed, it felt like a beginning. A good place to let go of the past.

CHAPTER 31

WAYLON

We were running out of time.

I’d just returned from a site visit in Virginia with Cooper and Hank. Richmond’s Mill Depot was on schedule to open this summer, and the lumberyard needed to be fully stocked and ready. We already had contracts to fulfill in Charlotte and Atlanta for major construction projects, and someone had to oversee the operation.

While I’d been there, I’d checked out a couple of apartments. Both were in newer complexes close to the warehouse. They had nice amenities—pools, saunas, a state-of-the-art gym, and sleek appliances. One of them even came furnished. I put a deposit down ’cause it made sense, and I was trying to do things that made sense.

I’d left Cooper and Hank in Richmond and driven out to Clearwater to visit my folks and Misty and Emmett. They’d been happy to see me, excited at the prospect of me being closer to home.

“That’s so cool!” Emmett had enthused. “Will you have a house with a basketball hoop?”

“Not right away. I’ll have an apartment…in the city.”

Emmett had wrinkled his nose, but the pool had won him over.

I’d stayed for dinner and had my ear talked off about karate lessons, Em’s friend Parker’s pet turtle, and Misty’s new job at the bicycle shop that catered to tourists. My sister had been looking at apartments a mile from Mom and Dad’s house, and with any luck, she and Emmett would be out on their own soon. Wasn’t it gonna be great? We were all going to be together soon.