9. Clark
Clark
As the truth of what River was saying filtered through my sluggish brain cells, I was so grateful that Beau was there. His quiet presence was pretty much the only thing keeping me in one piece.
“River,” Beau said so gently, “everything you have shared is heartbreaking. I’m so, so sorry that you went through that. I have to echo what your dad said, though. None of this is your fault.”
Of course, I could have said that till I was blue in the face, but I think it helped coming from someone we didn’t know all that well. Beau placed his hand on River’s shoulder. “Would you like to spend some time with the horses? Or perhaps go back to your cabin?”
“The cabin,” River answered, his voice nearly gone. “My head hurts from all the crying, and I just wanna sleep.”
Beau nodded. “Then why don’t you and your dad hang out here for a moment, and I’ll come back around with one of the utes?”
River sniffled loudly and nodded.
Beau touched my elbow. You okay? he mouthed.
I shook my head.
He gave me a grim smile. “I’ll be right back.”
I realized belatedly that Beau had moved us out of view of everyone. He had given us a private spot and space to really talk. We felt so small there in the shadows, surrounded by acres of ranch land and mountains.
Returning my focus to River, I pulled him back into my arms. “I know you don’t quite believe us when we say this wasn’t your fault.
But I need you to understand that I don’t blame you even for a second.
Not because you grabbed the wheel, not because you’re gay, not because of any of it.
And you will never be able to convince me otherwise. ”
River blinked, his eyelashes spiky with tears. “But the car wouldn’t have started skidding.”
“Son, you wouldn’t have grabbed the wheel if you thought she was going to stop.” I paused, so he understood that I got the implication. “If you hadn’t grabbed the wheel, you would probably both be dead.”
Rather than helping, he only slumped further. “Isn’t that what I deserve?”
That question took the breath out of my lungs.
I felt the weight of this moment, the importance of my answer. So many times, as parents, we stumble into these moments where our children will remember what we said for the rest of their lives.
I hoped I knew what I was doing.
First, I had to remember to breathe.
“River.” I used everything in me to keep my voice as calm as Beau’s. “I need you to look me in the eye as I say this.”
He looked away. I stood there and waited until I had his eyes on me.
“Even if everything was exactly as you said? None of that justifies a death sentence.”
River rubbed his nose, thoughts racing behind his soulful eyes. He sighed. “Only you would say it that way.”
“Probably,” I acknowledged, pushing his hair off his forehead.
“Your mother had one terrible, awful moment, Riv. Had it been a summer day like today, she would’ve come to her senses by the bottom of the hill and been able to stop the car.
But it was wintertime. Layers of ice and snow made that a dangerous hill.
And your mother’s state of mind—whatever the fuck that was—made it a deadly one.
That’s on her, never on you. And the fact that I still have you here with me, alive, and, frankly, a little snotty? Is a fucking miracle.”
River laughed, rough and uncertain as he wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve again. “Sorry.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t kill your mother, River. In what will probably be the worst moment of your life, you had to accept the truth of what was happening, and then you had to act to save your life. And I will be forever grateful, you hear me?”
Large, fresh tears popped into the corners of his eyes, breaking and falling down his cheeks. He nodded.
Beau drove up to the side of the barn and sat back. Wordlessly letting me know that we could take our time.
“Now, if this were a Hollywood movie, everything would be perfect after this, and the grand finale song would play. Because I now understand why it felt like I was losing you, and you fully accept that this is not your fault.”
River snorted, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“But I am guessing that what we really have here is a good fresh start with each of our therapists.”
More tears fell as River snot-laughed. I snot-laughed with him.
I gestured to Beau. “Let’s get you to the cabin. Let you sleep a while. And I don’t care that we just got here. You can let me know if you want to stay, or if we should take off. No wrong answers, okay?”
River wiped away his tears again. “Okay.”
Beau gave us a warm smile as we made our way into the ute. “Hold on to your butts,” he said gently, netting another sniffly half-grin from my son.
Beau took his time going down the drive, parking carefully next to my car. Miguel was fiddling with his hair, watching from the main building as River and I made our way into the cabin. Which reminded me…
“And, as soon as you stop crying over your dead mother, perhaps you and I could discuss the hickeys,” I said as we approached River’s room.
River’s smile was encouragingly troublesome, even if his chin trembled. “Miguel and I are in love. We’re getting married next week. I hope you can be there.”
“Is his mom single?”
“Too soon, Dad. Too soon,” River cracked as he let himself into his room.
“By the way, you smell like a chlorinated swamp,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, squeezing myself. “Maybe take a shower before you fall into a depressed coma, yes?”
“Fine.”
After River shut his door, I turned to Beau, who was standing just inside the front entrance. Still hugging myself, I buried my face in his chest, relieved to hear River turn on the shower. He really did stink.
“It’s nice to see that smart-ass runs in the family,” Beau rumbled.
“I knew it was something more than just the fact that his mom died,” I whispered into his muscles. “I … my therapist didn’t believe me, but…”
“You know your son,” Beau said, wrapping his arms around me.
“Yeah, well…” I unfolded my arms and circled them around Beau’s waist. Pressing my forehead to his shoulder, I cursed. “The painting. I left it by the barn.”
“No, I grabbed it.” Beau tightened his grip on me. “Wasn’t sure if I should bring it in, but it’s in the back of the ute.”
“Maybe … you can hold it for me for now?”
“Sure.”
Something about his thoughtfulness made me emotional all over again.
“Sorry for crying on your shirt,” I said, not able to stop the tears.
“That’s okay, it’s a moisture-wicking blend,” Beau said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
I chuckled and let out a long, long breath. “Where the fuck do I start?”
“You say that as though you haven’t already begun,” Beau said, far too kindly. “I’ve been trained in this kind of thing, and I don’t think I could’ve handled it any better. You did such a good job of listening to him, and then not letting the blame stand where it didn’t belong.”
“Are you sure about that? Because I’m feeling pretty worthless as a dad right now.”
It was Beau’s turn to chuckle. “Which is weird because I was just thinking that, even with my degree, I was absolutely useless.”
I pulled back, looking up into his eyes. “No, you weren’t. You kept us anchored. You were brilliant.”
Beau’s eyes sparkled at the compliment. My immediate thought was that he said he didn’t have a boyfriend yesterday. He was so lovely and kind that it was a shame some lucky guy wasn’t being loved on by him.
He was strong, too. Like, so strong that I felt weirdly safe in his arms.
Man, my brain was all over the place.
“Besides, you’re the youth activities coordinator,” I continued, gesturing to myself. “Not the guy responsible for whatever this is.”
I was such a mess.
“I’m here for whatever this is, too.” He winked. “I don’t discriminate against the elderly.”
I smacked his shoulder with the back of my hand. Ouch.
“I was just about to tell you off for calling me old, but that really fucking hurt.” I grabbed my hand. “Forty-three, and I’m falling apart.”
“I’m only thirty-six, and you should have seen me out there with those kids today. I could not keep up.”
“Is that how my son ended up with a neck full of hickeys?” I asked, nudging him.
“They snuck off!” Beau flushed bright red. “And they’re of age—what was I supposed to do? Drag them out of the woods by their ears?”
“Aw, man,” I said, laughing to myself. “They actually made out in the woods?”
“Yep.”
“Like father, like son, I guess.”
Beau’s eyes widened.
I threw my hands up. “I … It was college. You’re supposed to experiment in college.”
The large cowboy looked like I’d shoved a cattle prod up his ass.
“Wait, wait.” Beau waved his hands around. “Your adventure in the woods was with a man?” he asked, heatedly whispering the last word.
I scratched the back of my head. “My roommate, actually.”
Beau’s jaw nearly fell to the floor. “Um … awkward.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Not really. We tried it a few extra times, just to be sure. And then he started dating a guy from our poly-sci class, and I met Monica.”
“I hafta picture this,” Beau said, rubbing his eyes. “Describe the roommate.”
I laughed a little too loudly at that. “He was a rugby player. Very handsome.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“And then you just decided it wasn’t for you.”
“Well.” I thought about my answer. “More like he wasn’t for me. And the next person I dated, I married.”
“Does River know?” he asked, once again dropping to a whisper.
“I felt awkward bringing it up because I didn’t know what it meant.”
“So, you don’t know if it was just an experiment or…”
“Exactly.”
I couldn’t describe Beau’s look if I tried. Confused? Curious?
… Interested?
“You’re staring,” I said.
“Question,” he said, ignoring my rather valid, if I do say so myself, point. “What are your feelings on Henry Cavill?”
I opened my mouth, then … Henry Cavill? I scrunched my nose.
“Handsome, but too … pretty.” I thought of the last make-out session with my roommate. It was a fond, if brief, memory. “I’d probably stick with rugby players, to be honest.”
He made a dismissive swipe at the air. “I can’t with you.”
“What?”
He held up his hand, pointing to a class ring of some kind. “I was a lock for the Buffaloes.”
It was my turn to catch flies. “Huh.”
“Huh.”
We stared at each other.
Beau crossed his arms over his massive chest, like maybe he was thinking through … possibilities.
The shower snapped off.
Reality started crowding back in.
“Um, yeah…” I gestured to River’s room. “I’m gonna make sure he’s okay for the night. And we might—probably—cut our trip short.”
That couldn’t be disappointment in his eyes, but it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if it was.
“Of course. Do what’s best. Though if being around other kids his age would help, we’ve got some really nice activities for the rest of the week.” Beau ran his hand over his mouth. “I can also come up with a few one-on-one options, if he would rather do something a little less people-y.”
“Of course. That’s incredibly kind of you,” I said, squeezing his arm.
Beau really was a very large man.
“I’ll tell him, and we’ll come find you when we decide either way.”
“Sounds good.”
Beau hesitated, then opened his arms, and I let myself be pulled into one last hug.
Huh, indeed.
“Goodnight, Clark. Tell River I hope he feels better.”
“Thanks, Beau. I will.”