Chapter 7 #2
“Sometimes people need to learn the lesson themselves,” Tank continues.
“Are you all right?” he asks when I can’t muster up a response. “With Liza and the gym?”
“I will be. Thayden is helping with the Liza situation.” I swallow. “And I’ll be able to pay everyone back after I sell the gym,” I add quickly.
“I wasn’t worried about the money. Or Liza. I want to know if you’re okay.”
I don’t feel worthy of Tank’s gentleness. But then, our dad never once made any of us feel we needed to earn his love or care. He’s a veritable fountain of it, flowing continuously. Even when he’s offering the tough version of love.
“I’m good,” I tell him, only realizing it’s not quite true as I say the words. “Or … I will be.”
Why Molly’s face comes to mind when I say this, I have no idea. Since, technically speaking, she’s part of one more poor choice I’ve made.
Would either of my brothers have been roped into pretending to be someone’s boyfriend? I almost laugh out loud imagining the face James would make at even hearing the idea.
But Pat? Before Lindy, he absolutely would have been on board with a fake dating situation. Especially for someone who needed help. Pat is definitely a jump first, ask questions later person.
“You’re going to emerge from this mess just fine,” Tank says, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “I know it.”
I swallow around a whole knot of emotion. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Now. Tell me what you think when you look at this field.”
“Why are you so obsessed with this field? Have you been watching Field of Dreams?”
“I haven’t watched any Costner movies lately, although The Bodyguard will never leave my top ten. Rest in peace, Whitney Houston.”
I humor Dad by giving the late singer a requisite moment of silence.
“I’m asking about the field,” Tank says after the pause, “because I bought it for you. For whatever great thing you want to do next. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to figure out what your legacy will be and how this field might help you get there. Build a house. Build a business.”
“Build a baseball field in hopes the Savannah Bananas will come?”
Tank chuckles. “Or that.”
“How many acres is it?”
“Twenty-three.”
Twenty-three acres. That seems plenty big enough for some kind of legacy. What kind? I have no idea.
We’re quiet for a moment, and wheels that have grown rusty with disuse start turning in my mind. The cow is still staring, and I realize it’s moved a little closer. Is this my cow?
“Does the field come with the cows?” I ask.
“No. Though if you want them, I’m sure I could ask.”
“No, thanks. Cow-free is just fine.”
Excitement starts to simmer and hum as I stare out over the field with fresh eyes. Hope appears, filling me like a warm current underneath my skin. I’d almost forgotten the feel of this emotion and am filled with a surge of gratitude for my father.
To say it wasn’t easy when we lost Mom would be an understatement.
And even though we were all fairly young, the mark her presence and then her loss made on us all can’t be diminished.
But Dad dedicated himself to being the best single parent he could, corralling and guiding us while also giving us freedom and so many opportunities.
“Thanks, Dad. I don’t know what I’ll do with it, but … wow. Thank you.”
“You’re a man with big dreams. You’ll figure it out in time.”
Will I?
With the very public way Liza is responding to our breakup, dreaming big has been the furthest thing from my mind. I’ve been more focused on laying low and staying small.
“Also, you know you’ve got a lot of questions to answer about Molly.”
“I know.”
“Want to answer any of them for me right now?”
“Not particularly.”
Tank chuckles and starts back toward the truck. “I have a feeling your brothers—and brother-in-law—don’t have my patience.”
As though proving his point, my phone starts buzzing with a phone call from Pat. I’m not in the mood to deal with him.
My mind is too full of possibilities and excitement. I don’t want to burst the bubble.
But the phone immediately rings again. I’m not sure why he’s calling when he could text instead, but he keeps on. And he probably will keep calling all night long unless I answer.
“You gonna get that?” Tank asks.
I sigh and swipe to answer as I climb into the truck. “What’s so important that you’re blowing up my phone, Patty?”
“Where are you?” he demands.
“Out with Dad.” Checking out a cow pasture that just might change the course of my life. “Why?”
“Because your girlfriend”—the way he says the word tells me he’s suspicious of the whole thing—“is at Backwoods Bar, and from what Chevy said when he called me, she might could use a little help.”
“Thanks.”
“For the record, Lindy and I love this for you. But the best couple name we can come up with so far is Colly, and so we might need a brainstorming sesh to—”
I end the call while Pat is mid-sentence and turn to Tank. “Mind making a little pit stop?”
“This have anything to do with the woman you’re pretending to date?” His smile is a little too knowing.
Well, that was unexpected.
“Is there anything you don’t know?”
“Plenty,” Tank says with a laugh. “But when it comes to you boys and your sister, not much gets by me.”
Apparently not.