26. Everett
Everett
Four Days Before The Grand Opening
Four days before the grand opening, and Lavender Creek feels like it is holding its breath.
Everywhere I go, someone asks about the theater. What movies we are opening with. What it looks like inside.
The truth is that the building barely resembles what it had been when I first bought it.
Fresh paint. New seating. Restored woodwork. Updated lighting. The list goes on.
But the bones are the same. And that is the whole point.
The theater has always been part of this town’s heartbeat. I just wanted to bring it back to life. But that wasn’t the only thing on my mind lately.
The ranch house looks exactly the same as it always has. White siding. Wraparound porch. The old wind chimes my mom hung twenty years ago still clinking softly in the breeze.
Standing at the bottom of the porch steps, I realize that this conversation is going to be heavy. I’ve avoided it for almost two weeks. Not because I didn’t trust my parents, but because once I say it out loud to them, everyone in my life knows.
Emily. My daughter.
Opening the creaky old door, I step inside and toss my boots to the side. Walking through the house, I head to the kitchen where I assume my parents will be. Mom is always in the kitchen baking or cooking, Dad is usually sitting at the table, talking to Mom or reading the paper.
I was right, Dad is sitting at the kitchen table with his reading glasses low on his nose and a newspaper spread out in front of him.
He glances up. “Hey, son,” he says, looking back down at the paper.
Mom turns to me. “Hey, sweetie, I am making Dad a decaf coffee. Would you like one?”
I nod. “That would be great, Mom, thanks.”
I sit down across from Dad, resting my forearms on the table. He folds the newspaper slowly, like he can sense this isn’t just a casual greeting.
Mom sets a mug in front of me, and one beside Dad. “You seem a little tense, Everett. Is everything okay?” Mom asks.
I exhale slowly.
“A week ago, my ex from LA called, do you remember me talking about Sydney?” I turn and ask my mom.
“Yes, I remember you were quite serious about her.”
“She called multiple times, actually,” I continue. “I ignored her at first.”
Dad frowns slightly.
I tell them everything. The missed calls. The texts. The moment I called back. Sydney telling me I have a daughter.
Mom’s hand flies over her mouth.
“A daughter?”
“Her name is Emily. She’s three.”
Dad leans back in his chair, absorbing the information.
“That’s a lot.”
“Yeah.”
“I asked for a paternity test,” I say. “Didn’t want to assume anything.”
Mom nodded slowly. “That was smart.”
“I got the results this week.”
I pause. Both of them are watching me carefully.
“She’s mine.”
Mom’s eyes immediately fill with tears. “Oh, Everett.”
Dad runs a hand down his face. “You’re a father?”
Hearing someone else say it out loud still feels surreal.
“I guess I am,” I say.
Mom reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “How do you feel about it?”
“Honestly? Terrified,” I respond.
Dad huffs a quiet laugh. “Good, that means you care.”
Mom squeezes my hand. “You’re going to figure it out, and we are here to help.”
“I also told Violet. I know I haven’t told you much, but I do like her, and we were hanging out, and then I got the call, and everything is weird now. But we’re working on fixing it,” I tell them.
“How did she take it?” Mom asks.
“She wasn’t upset about Emily; she was upset I didn’t tell her sooner, and I kept things from her.”
Mom nods knowingly. “That sounds about right.”
I add, “She said she needs time to process everything.”
Dad leans forward slightly. “That seems fair.”
“I know a lot is happening all at once for you, the theater, Violet, and now finding out you’re a father. But sweetie, if anyone can handle it, you can.” Mom gets up and gives me a kiss on my cheek. “I’m going to let you and your dad talk.”
Then she disappears outside. Leaving just Dad and me at the table. The silence stretches for a moment. Then he clears his throat. “You know,” he says slowly, “I used to be pretty mad at you.”
I look up. “I know.”
“When you left for LA…” He stares at the wood-grain table. “For generations, the oldest son took over the ranch.”
“I know,” I say again.
“I figured you would too,” he says.
I rub the back of my neck. “I didn’t want that life.”
“I understand that now,” Dad says. “You, leaving, felt like rejection.”
“I’m sorry, I never meant it that way.”
“I see that now,” he says. “You came back, and you built something of your own.”
I think about the theater. The work, the vision finally coming together.
“I guess I did.”
“I’m proud of you.”
The words hit harder than they should.
“I’ve been watching you since you’ve been back. And I am glad you found something that makes you happy,” he says.
I swallow. “Thanks, Dad.”
“And now you have a daughter!”
“That part still feels crazy.”
Dad chuckles. “First piece of advice, you’re never ready.”
“That’s comforting,” I reply.
“But you learn fast, you show up, every day,” he says.
“That’s it?” I ask.
“That’s the most important part,” he adds.
“I can do that.”
Dad studies me for a moment.
“You love Violet?”
“Yeah, I do,” I say with no hesitation.
His lips curve slightly. “Then don’t screw it up.”
“I’m not planning on it,” I say.
“Good.”
Later on, I call Riley.
“Tell me you got a ticket for the grand opening,” I say as soon as he answers the phone.
“Already booked the flight, I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Thanks man, also, the paternity results came back.”
Silence.
“And?”
“She’s mine.”
Riley let out a low whistle. “How are you handling it?”
“Still figuring that part out.”
“What about Violet?”
“I told her.”
“And?”
“She said she needs time.”
“That makes sense.”
“I just hope she makes the grand opening.”
Riley chuckles. “Buddy, if she’s the woman you think she is, she will be.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I expect a full tour of the theater when I’m there.”
“You’ll get one.”
We continue to talk about his life and how Cooper is doing.
Cooper isn’t coming to the grand opening; he’s staying back with his grandparents since Riley is only coming for a couple of days.
I tell Riley about my conversation with my dad and how we hashed everything out and how I feel like everything is falling into place.
I just need to figure this father thing out and talk to Violet.
Hanging up the phone, I head to the barn where I run into Henry.
“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” he says.
“That obvious?” I ask.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my life and how I want it to play out. I think my next step is buying a house.”
Henry blinks. “Really?”
“I’ve got a daughter now.”
He smiles slowly. “Well, that will change your priorities.”
“Yeah, I want to build a future, and I can’t do that from living at Mom and Dad’s. Plus it’s not a place to have Violet over.”
“There is a place down the road for sale,” Henry mentions.
“Which one?” I ask.
“The blue house near Miller Creek.”
I know exactly which one he means. We used to always play by the creek when we were younger. Catching frogs, skipping rocks, and trying to catch fish with our bare hands.
“It’s move-in ready,” Henry continues. “Doesn’t need a single thing done, maybe some paint, but that’s nothing compared to the theater.”
“That sounds too good to be true,” I say.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” Henry says.
I chuckle.
“Maybe.”
Later that night, I stop by the theater. Most of the lights are off, but the glow from the marquee spills across the sidewalk outside.
I stand in the empty lobby for a minute, taking it all in.
Fresh paint. Polished floors. The faint smell of popcorn lingered from the test run we had done earlier.
For a few weeks, this place has been nothing more than an idea. Now it is real.
And somehow, in the middle of all that, my life has changed even more than the building has.
A daughter I would start to get to know. A house I might buy. And a woman I hoped hadn’t walked out of my life for good.
I step outside and look up at the glowing marquee.
Four days.
Four days until the doors open.
Four days until the whole town fills these seats again.
And maybe…
Four days until I find out if Violet is still part of my future.