Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Otis Young turned and faced the closed door of his office. His wife called it his music studio, and Otis could be found plucking through chords on his guitar from time to time.
Sometimes a song would come into his head fully formed, and he could barely keep up with his fingers to get it out. Sometimes he knew exactly what to say to his children, and sometimes, no matter what he did, he felt blank, hollow, and empty. Without words. Silent.
He hated it the most when he didn’t have lyrics and music in his life, and sitting on the phone with his oldest daughter and finding only silence terrified him.
“Daddy?” Joey asked, and Otis cleared his throat.
“Yeah, I’m here.” He blinked, and he could see the picture of Adam and Joey, their heads tipped together, their smiles wide. OJ had been in the middle of his song, and Otis had interrupted him and sent him out to the kitchen for a snack.
“Just a minute,” he said. “Your mother is knocking on the door.”
“You’ve barricaded yourself in your office, haven’t you?” Joey teased, and somehow the fact that she wasn’t nervous helped Otis feel more comfortable.
His wife had not knocked on the door, and Otis prayed for forgiveness for the little white lie. As he crossed the room and opened the door, he heard voices down the hall—Georgia’s and OJ’s—and then Georgia stepped past the dining room table and looked down the hall.
Even from twenty feet away, Otis could see the concern in her eyes, and somehow that soothed him too. He lifted his phone away from his ear and said, “It’s Joey.”
She nodded, though they both knew that he had called her and not the other way around. Georgia gave him a soft smile, which reminded Otis to bury anything that would drive Joey further from them.
He’d been worried about his daughter for a great many months now, though she was a good person and a hard worker.
She took care of his mother and father, and they both adored having her in their condo.
Otis simply wanted her to realize how integral to the family she was and how much joy she brought into all of their lives.
He wanted her to feel loved and valued, and he knew she didn’t.
He stepped back into his office. “Sorry, we have something with OJ.”
“Yeah? What’s he doing?” Joey asked.
“He wants Bailey to come for the holidays,” Otis said, reaching up to rub his eyes. His mother had told him that every child came with their own set of wants, needs, and problems, and boy, was she ever right.
“Is she not coming?” Joey asked.
“I think for Christmas,” Otis said, as he sank into his office chair. “But not Thanksgiving, and you know how OJ can get.”
“Oh, I know how OJ can get,” Joey said with a light laugh. “I know how you can get too, Daddy, and you didn’t interrupt something with OJ to call me and talk about him.”
“No, I didn’t.” Otis blew out his breath. “So you like Adam, huh?”
“Yes, I like Adam,” Joey said, and her tone carried sunshine and sparkles. Otis remembered he was on speaker with the two of them, and he could only imagine them making goo-goo eyes at each other.
“What’s your objection?” she asked.
“Who says I have an objection?” Otis said. “You just haven’t dated in a while, and maybe I’m a little surprised.”
“Yeah, you’re a little surprised because it’s Adam,” Joey said. “I know you, Daddy. Just tell me what it is, so that I can talk you out of it.”
He smiled. “I used to be the one talking you out of the things you were worried about,” he said.
“Oh, you still do,” she said. “So, what is it?”
Otis pressed his eyes closed and tried to listen to the Lord.
He’d always aimed to be as honest as possible with his children, though he didn’t believe in telling them everything before they were mature enough to handle it.
Joey would be twenty-three in February, and every cell in Otis’s body told him that she could handle this.
“I think he’s too old for you,” he said. “There, that’s it. I think he’s too old for you.”
On the other end of the line, Adam cleared his throat, but he said nothing.
“Yeah, he thinks that too,” Joey said.
Relief rushed through Otis. “So I’m not being completely unreasonable.”
“I mean, I think it’s silly,” Joey said. “One of your favorite country music stars is fifty-six and his wife is twenty-six.”
“Yeah, and I think he’s too old for her too,” Otis said. “I just don’t have to deal with them in my daily life.”
“Well, Adam’s not thirty years older than me,” Joey said.
“How much older?” Otis challenged.
“It’s like…eight years….” Joey said, her voice trailing off. “And some change.”
Eight years felt like a lot, but Otis ground his teeth together to stay silent.
What else was he supposed to say? He only had the one complaint about the meticulously detailed band manager that Country Quad had just hired.
Adam was clean-cut and professional, well-spoken, and excellent at his job.
Otis happened to know the man’s salary, and Joey would be well taken care of.
So what’s eight years? The words slithered through his mind like a snake that had found the warmest, sunniest rock and could finally stretch out and relax.
“All right,” he said. “What about his job?”
“He has a good job.”
“Yes, he does.” Otis glared at the wall opposite of him, where he’d hung all the covers for Country Quad’s albums. “And what happens if it doesn’t work out between you two?
” Otis was really asking if she’d leave town then, because Joey tended to go into avoidance mode rather than deal with contention and confrontation.
Joey remained silent, and Adam cleared his throat again. “Sir, if I may….”
“I know what he’s really asking,” Joey said into the resulting silence. “Coral Canyon is small, but it’s not like I’m involved in the band at all. I’m sure I can handle seeing an ex-boyfriend from time to time.”
“Mm.” Otis wasn’t sure he believed that, but he didn’t feel like perpetuating the issue right in front of the person who could be the issue. “All right,” he said. “Sounds like you have it worked out.”
“Wait—you’re not going to forbid me from seeing him?” Joey asked, and Otis wasn’t quite sure, but he thought she was teasing him.
“Have I ever forbid you from seeing someone?” he asked. “How dare you?” He laughed, glad when Joey joined in with him. His concern remained, but ultimately, he couldn’t control the situation. He could only offer love and support.
“We’d love to have you over for dinner,” Otis said. “Is he coming for Thanksgiving?”
A pause came through the line, and Otis could practically hear them talking silently to one another, using only their eyes, the way he could do with Georgia sometimes.
“Yeah,” Joey said. “He’d love to come for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Well, it’s just us and the Whittakers,” he said, “I guess maybe Bailey, if OJ gets his way.”
“I’m sure it will be wonderful, sir,” Adam said, and Otis almost rolled his eyes.
“You don’t have to call me sir,” he said.
“Yeah, he doesn’t like that,” Joey said with a giggle. “Makes him feel old.”
“I am old,” Otis shot back.
“Daddy, you’re only fifty,” Joey said. “It’s not that old.”
“All right, well, I love you, Roo,” he said.
“I love you too, Daddy.”
The call ended, and Otis slid his phone onto the top of his desk just as OJ rapped lightly on the slightly ajar door.
“Can I come in, Daddy?” he asked, and Otis gestured for him to come in. Georgia followed with a cup of coffee and a square of peanut butter bar.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Oh, just fine,” Otis said.
“You think he’s too old for her, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Otis accepted the coffee and then drew Georgia onto his lap. “He is too old for her, but they’re both adults. And did you see that picture?”
Georgia smiled at him and ran her fingers through his hair. “I saw it,” she said. Over on the stool, OJ started to strum lightly, moving through a C-major scale on his strings. “They were adorable.”
“Yeah, I know,” Otis said with a sigh.
“Don’t sound so happy that your daughter is dating someone she likes,” Georgia said.
“I am happy about it,” Otis said. “It’s just—it feels kind of messy, you know?”
“Because he manages Country Quad?”
“Yes,” Otis said. “I mean, what if they break up? Adam can’t just leave town, which means Joey will.”
“I don’t think Joey wants to leave town,” Georgia said.
“Whether she wants to or not won’t matter,” Otis said. “She’s a runner, and Coral Canyon is small, and Adam is intimately connected to our family now—for the next three years. So either it works out and everything’s fine and great.”
Otis pressed his eyes closed and tried to imagine that future, but nothing would come forward. “Or things end between them, and Joey packs her bags, and we won’t see her again for a year. She’ll become even more distant, more disconnected than she already feels.”
Georgia watched him soberly for several long moments, then she leaned down and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss.
“I don’t think you’re giving your daughter enough credit,” she said as she stood from his lap.
She faced their son, her smile beautiful and bright.
“OJ played his song, and he sounded real good. Didn’t you, baby? ”
She walked over to OJ and ruffled his hair. “We have that movie at three o’clock, so you’ll need to be done in here pretty soon.”
Otis nodded to acknowledge her, and then she left them alone in the music room. He didn’t feel like continuing the lesson, but he found such hope on his son’s face.
“You want to play it for me, bud?” he asked.
OJ nodded and started into the song. The boy did have talent, even as a ten-year-old, and if he wanted to go into country music, Otis would do anything and everything he could to make it happen.
He wished he knew what he was doing, that there was some manual on how to be a good dad with checklists and questions to ask children of both genders at any age. Since he didn’t have that manual, he simply did the best he could.