Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Coy
Knock! Knock!
I pass the box of muffins from one hand to the other. I shiver against the chill in the air as I stand on the Davenport’s porch.
A light turns on in the living room, and I hear the squeak of the recliner. I wonder if it still sits beside the bookcase in the living room with the dark brown coffee table beside it.
“Who is it?” Joseph’s voice is weak and distant.
“Hey, Joseph. It’s Coy Mason. I was just coming by to say hello.”
“Come on in.”
I open the door and step inside. The foyer is precisely as I remember it. The walls are a light grayish-blue, and pictures of a baby Bellamy decorate every available surface.
Through the arched doorway to my left, I spot Joseph sitting in his recliner. It sits beside the bookcase and next to the dark brown coffee table.
I smile.
“Well, there you are,” Joseph says, setting a newspaper on the table. His voice is gruffer than I remember. It reminds me of a smoker’s voice with its raspiness, and I’ve never known Joseph to smoke a day in my life.
As I step inside the fully lit living room, my stomach sinks to the hardwood floor.
Joseph’s face is gaunt. His cheeks are sunken in like a mummy on the Discovery Channel. His eyes almost look too big for his face, and his lips are thin and dark.
It’s like a knife hitting me in the gut, twisting and turning to maximize the pain. My brain immediately goes to Bellamy, and I wonder where she is and how she feels.
And how she deals with this every day.
“Hey, Joseph,” I say, trying to sound as natural as possible. He motions for me to sit on the loveseat next to him, so I do. “How are you, buddy?”
Immediately, I regret the question. He’s obviously shitty. But what else do you say to break the ice to someone in his case? I don’t fucking know.
Joseph gives me what I would bet is his best smile. “I’m not dead yet.”
I start to laugh, but I catch myself. Do you laugh at things like this? Again, I don’t know.
Joseph observes me before chuckling to himself. “Oh, come on now,” he says. “That was funny.”
“Yeah, well ... not really,” I say, wincing at the uncertainty in my voice.
He fiddles with a butterscotch candy wrapper until he gets it open. He pops the disc into his mouth and then tosses the wrapper into a trash can tucked between him and the table.
“I’m not too bad,” he says. “Been better, been worse, believe it or not.” He rests his head back against the chair and looks at me. “How about you? How have you been doing?”
I set the box of muffins down beside me. “I’m okay. Thought I would come by and see you while I’m in town.”
“I’m glad you did.”
I fold my hands on my knees and look around the room. “Do you need anything? Can I get you anything?”
“Nah. I’m pretty good. Bellamy takes pretty good care of her old dad.”
He watches to see how I react to the mention of his daughter. It puts me on the spot a little bit but not enough to make it weird.
“I never really imagined Bellamy having the disposition to be a good nurse,” I half-joke. “She gets tired, and …” I make a face.
Joseph chuckles. “Well, if we’re being honest, I didn’t either.”
We laugh together easily. It helps to settle my nerves.
He grabs the remote and turns down the game show he was watching.
“You home for long?” he asks. “I haven’t seen ya around in a long time.”
“I’m not sure. Just kind of taking some downtime while some things get worked out on the business end. You know how it goes.”
He nods. “I’m sure your parents enjoy having you home. They haven’t seen much of you lately either, huh?”
“No. I’ve been pretty busy. Things really took off after the Honors show a couple of years ago.”
“You took Entertainer of the Year, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
His face brightens as he smiles at me. “That’s great, Coy. I’m proud of you, son.”
“Thanks. That means a lot to me.”
“You’ve always been like a kid to me. Always around, asking questions and stealing cookies.”
“The cookie thing was Boone.”
Joseph chuckles.
I watch him take a tissue and dab the corners of his mouth where the candy has pooled.
The vision of him like this is staggering.
I remember a robust man who split firewood in the summers so they could have a fireplace going in the winter because Bellamy liked it.
Joseph was the kind of man who worked on his cars before taking them to the mechanic’s shop.
He fascinated me.
Now it fascinates me to see him like this.
A pang of guilt washes over me. The amount of time that had to have transpired from the Joseph I remember to the Joseph sitting in front of me is embarrassing.
And I missed the transformation. I missed a lot.
“That show changed your life, didn’t it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I admit. “It changed it overnight. My phone rang solidly for weeks after that. My schedule has had something on it almost every day. I mean, it’s a good problem to have. It’s just hard to get away for long.”
He rocks back and forth in his recliner and watches me thoughtfully. He licks his lips as if they’re dry while the candy rattles around against his teeth.
My heart pulls in my chest. I wish what I said wasn’t true. I wish there was more time to be spent at home—more holidays at Mom’s. More visits to Joseph and the poker guys with Dad. More Vegas trips with Boone and ski trips with Oliver.
More being here with Bells as she deals with all of this.
But I can’t be in two places at once. That’s something I’m just going to have to live with.
Isn’t it?
“Can I give you some advice?” Joseph asks, luring me out of my daze.
“Sure.”
He takes a long minute before he begins to speak.
“You know that I did pretty well in my life, right? I was president of the bank for twenty years—up until I got sick. And, before that, I had various roles that had me out of the house more hours than I was in it.”
“I remember.”
He continues to rock in the chair. “When Shelley and I got married, I worked so much because that’s what I thought men do. That’s what my father always did. He worked sunup until sundown to provide for his family, so I did the same.”
He smiles faintly, staring off into space.
I wonder what he’s feeling and how hard his life must have quietly been for him. He lost Shelley so young and then raised Bellamy on his own.
How did this never occur to me before?
Because you were young and self-centered.
Slowly, he pulls his gaze back to me.
“After Shelley died, I suppose I buried myself in my work to avoid feeling the loss,” he tells me. “That wasn’t fair to Bellamy or me—or my wife’s memory. We all deserved to grieve the life she led.”
“She was so much fun. The best chocolate chip cookie maker ever.”
He grins, appreciative of me sharing that thought with him.
“But even after she died,” he continues, “I kept working those long hours and extended weeks. I was covering my emotions, staying busy so I didn’t have to face a lonely house.
But I was also probably trying to compensate in some weird, wrong way.
As if …” He sighs. “As if being able to fill Bellamy’s life with things would somehow fill in the hole Shelley left behind. I know that sounds ridiculous.”
He waits for me to respond, but I don’t know what to say. Finally, I just hold my hands out in front of me and shrug.
“I’m not going to sit here and judge you,” I tell him.
“I can’t imagine how hard that was, and I’m positive I would’ve done a shittier job.
I mean, look at Bells.” I grin as I think of her.
“You raised one hell of a woman, Joe. I think that speaks volumes for how well you did handle things, whether you realize it or not.”
He smiles at me. “She’s pretty great, isn’t she?”
I return his smile.
The chair sways back and forth again as he gazes off into the distance. “You know my only regret?”
“No.”
“I regret not experiencing everything that I ran away from. Even the hard stuff—especially the hard stuff. I regret not sitting on the floor with Bellamy and crying for days. I regret being in my office when she was a teenager and quite the little pistol and not being at the dining room table while we discussed whatever trouble she’d gotten herself into. ”
I laugh. “I think you did that a time or twelve.”
He chuckles too. “I did for sure.”
We watch each other. We’re sitting just a few feet away, and it feels both like millions of miles and only a few inches.
“I have a lot of time on my hands these days,” he admits. “It’s an interesting position to be in. I have all of this dead time with nothing to do but sit and think about the moment in which I have more time. It’s quite a predicament.”
“I’ve never thought of it like that.”
“I hadn’t either.” He picks up another piece of candy and holds it in his palm. “I’ve thought about every piece of my life, replayed every day.”
“I do that every night,” I say in an ill attempt at a joke.
Joseph lets it go without acknowledging it. I get the feeling he’s not gotten to the point he’s trying to make, so I sit back and let him talk.
“Life is made up of a web of experiences and emotions. They are the only two things we have in life no matter who you are, where you live, or what you do. You’re going to experience things, and you’re going to feel things.”
I mull that over. It seems true. I’ve never thought of life like that, but I’m not sitting around pondering life’s greatest mysteries either.
Joseph shifts in his chair, wincing as he moves to face me. He looks me in the eyes.
“The key to life—the key to everything—is who you choose to build your web around,” he says, his voice eerily calm.
“I built so much of mine around my job. I have so many experiences and emotions from my days at the bank. Some were good. Some were bad. Some were amazing moments in life that I’m better for having.
But Coy …” He sets the candy down on the table.
“I’d give anything to trade some of those things for more memories with Bellamy. ”
The sincerity in his tone strangles me.