Thirty-two #2
I leaned into the topic. “Why do you like it?”
He drew a breath through his teeth. “It started when I was a kid. At my dad’s house, there was this big magnolia tree right outside the spare bedroom where I would sleep when I stayed the night.
And it must’ve been home to a hundred birds.
They’d come and go and there were nests with chicks every year.
I sat at the window and watched them for hours.
I used to bring my sandwich crusts to the windowsill for them. They felt like my friends.”
More questions for him were on the tip of my tongue, but he made a quick pivot. “How did you meet Sarah?”
A smile I couldn’t stop stretched across my face. “I caught her cheating off my math test.”
“No kidding.”
“Seriously. She had her hat pulled down over her forehead and was peeking out of the corner of her eye at my quiz. I covered the pages, but then she started to cry, so I uncovered it and let her cheat.”
“That’s a funny way to meet.”
“Yeah, she was adorable.” I shook my head, doing all I could to conjure up every detail of that scene. “After class was over, I offered to help her study for the next one. And we became really good friends through that. So what about you? Do you have someone?”
“A woman?” He scoffed as if my question was ludicrous. “No way.”
“Does that mean you prefer men?”
Cooper laughed long and loud, and I was glad my genuine question didn’t offend him. Finally, he managed, “Nah, man. I’m a little too into women.”
“How so?”
A new cloud of smoke descended upon us and I waved it away as he said, “I’ve gotten involved a couple of times and it’s never ended well. I would rather just fly solo. It’s easier that way.”
Fly solo.
The words hit me like a wall of ice as I imagined waking up to an empty bed for the rest of my life. “Easier? I don’t know about that.”
“Maybe not for you. For me though, yeah.” He took a deep breath as if the topic pained him.
“A wife, family, kids”—he said the last word with a note of disdain—“that’s not the life for me.
But as soon as you get involved with a girl, that’s what she’s thinking.
She wants to settle down, make a home, make promises, make babies. And I’m not doing that shit.”
“Why not?”
He fell silent for so long I wondered if I’d asked the question out loud or just thought I had. But then, he finally said, “No kid deserves a dad like me.”
A dad like me.
Once again, Cooper’s words chilled me to the bone.
I could relate much more than I wanted to.
The idea of a child having me as a father was incomprehensible.
The idea of Sarah having to parent with someone who couldn’t supervise an infant was detestable.
It was one of the reasons I was happy she left.
Maybe she could find someone better suited to the role.
I said, “Maybe you’d love fatherhood.”
“I don’t trust myself to do better than my dad.
It doesn’t seem right to me to start a family and cross your fingers that you figure it out.
” His lighter flicked again as he went straight into his second cigarette, and his words mumbled as if he was squeezing it between his lips. “A baby is the real deal.”
“Do you talk to your dad?”
“I don’t.” He gave a soft, breathy laugh. “He’s not much of a father though. He’s…” Cooper left the sentence trail off before finishing. “He’s never liked me very much.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He was drunk all the time, addicted to drugs, and cycled through women. If I stepped out of line around him, he would beat the hell out of me or lock me in my bedroom for days on end. If I was lucky, he’d slip food under the door.
” Cooper tried to conceal the tremor in his voice.
“He tortured anyone he was with and did things right in front of me that were…” His words broke for a moment, tension squeezing his throat.
“I saw some messed up shit because of my dad.” His exhale shuddered, and I snapped my mouth shut, realizing belatedly that it hung open.
I could not fathom having a father like that.
He continued, “And I’d love to think I would do better, but…
what if I didn’t? There’d be another miserable Cooper in the world because of me.
Half the time, I wish I wasn’t even breathing and that’s no life to give to a kid.
” He spoke like he was trying to justify something.
“Making sure it doesn’t happen in the first place feels like the better choice. ”
I swallowed against my tight throat, surprised by the emotions gripping my vocal cords. “You’re already doing better than him, Cooper. You went to rehab and poured out four beers a few hours ago. That’s not small.”
He released a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, you don’t really know what I’m capable of.” Each syllable carried a depth of sorrow. “But I’ve met your dad. He seems like a solid guy.”
I clenched my jaw, remembering when he kicked me out of his house. Despite the way I burned with humiliation when I thought of it, I knew the truth: Dad wouldn’t have done that unless he loved me. “He’s a great dad. I take all the things he’s done for me for granted most of the time.”
“Most of us don’t recognize the good things we have.”
“You know what’s funny though?”
“What?”
“Even though I have a great dad, I’m afraid to be a father, too.”
Cooper gave a soft huff.
“Because of my chemo, if Sarah and I want kids, we have to do IVF which is an unimaginable amount of steps you would not even believe. All of which will be physically hard on Sarah. Knowing the risks, she’s wanted to do it for a long time, but I…
” I shrugged, feeling small, and wondering why I was telling Cooper all this.
“I don’t know, I just put it off out of fear, I guess.
I wanted to make sure we had enough savings in the bank account, a comfortable enough house, and established enough careers.
I think I knew something bad was going to happen, but I didn’t know what, so I kept delaying.
She was so patient…” I swallowed, hating that my honesty made me sound like a coward.
“What’s crazy is that after everything we’ve been through, she still wants to do it.
But I cannot imagine being a father. I can hardly even take care of myself.
Sarah will need a strong partner and I’m just… not.”
Cooper hummed, mulling that over. “Is that why you didn’t go after her?”
The question felt like a bullet shot point-blank at my chest, tearing straight through me. The way I swallowed hurt my throat and I averted my face. “There were a lot of reasons.”
“It was weird to me that you stayed in the fifth wheel while she drove off.”
I nodded, working my jaw and remembering the way my cheek had stung with humiliation. “It was a long time coming, I think.”
Cooper smoked quietly for a minute then said, “You know, I once met a cowboy on the rodeo circuit. His name was Terry Hughes and he was a bronc rider. Pretty good, too. Maybe not like raking in the cash and climbing the ranks good, but he always had a decent ride. And he was blind. He would tumble into the dust and pop up with a smile.” He drew a breath through his teeth.
“They interviewed him after he retired and he said the first time he climbed on a horse he almost pissed himself but the more he did it, the freer he felt. And then, the first time a bronc threw him into the air, he said it felt like flying. Man, I thought he was badass. I’ve always wanted to fly. ”
I didn’t respond—couldn’t. I would do anything to have that kind of courage.
“All that to say,” he continued, “there’s nothing you can’t learn how to do. I’m sure being a dad feels more intimidating than jumping on a horse, but the takeaway is the same.”
I smiled at that. “But this doesn’t apply to you?”
“Nah.” I heard the smile in his voice, too. “I’m a different kind of broken. But you are a Thompson and that alone could take you pretty damn far.”
He was right and I knew it. Despite everything I had faced as a child, my parents gave me a launching pad most people could only dream about.
They had poured everything into keeping me alive and giving me every chance they thought I deserved.
And look what became of their hard work—my dad’s especially.
I’d essentially taken every gift Dad gave me and threw it back in his face.
When he’d dedicated so much of his time and finances to my life, I decided I didn’t want to live anymore.
No wonder he was disappointed in me. A deep ache settled in my chest as I remembered the Sunday afternoons he would come out to the driveway and shoot baskets with Ben and me.
His headset in his semi truck was always paired, ready for a phone call from his children.
For a few minutes, we just sat in silence while Cooper finished his smoke. Finally, once he tapped it out on the bench of the picnic table, he stood and said, “Thanks for talking to me.”
“No problem.” I stood too.
“Sorry for choking you out.” He gave a rough laugh. “I’ll try not to do it again.”
“That’d be great.”
Coop went back into the tent and crawled into his sleeping bag and so did I.
Gingerly, I rested my head on the pillow, surprised by how much my neck hurt.
But, sleep evaded me. It was almost four in the morning, and I couldn’t turn off my brain.
What if Cooper had actually killed me? And the last thing Callum Thompson remembered about me was throwing me off his couch?
Before I could stop myself, I lifted my sleeping bag over my head, brought my phone to my lips, and whispered, “Siri, text Dad.”
Me
When you get time, can you call me?
The next morning I woke up to a missed call.