Chapter 26 Scott Basic Instinct
SCOTT: BASIC INSTINCT
The ad ran in the Penny Saver, squeezed between a listing for a used microwave and a babysitter “with references.”
By noon, the phone rang.
By three o’clock, Tom was standing in my driveway in khakis, golf shoes, and a sun visor that looked like it came with a country-club membership. Nice guy. Easy laugh. And he clearly had the money.
“Beautiful day, huh?” he said, shaking my hand like we were old friends. “Love this ocean breeze.”
“You live inland?”
“I do. Glendale area. Too damn hot, but they got great golf courses.”
His grip was firm, his smile infectious. I liked him immediately. “Anyway,” he said, “let’s check out this beauty.”
See, that was all I wanted for the Shaggin’ Wagon: someone who’d love it as much as I did.
If I had my way, I would hold onto it. Pass it down to Keith one day, so he could toss his own surfboard in the back and drive it to the beach in the early morning.
But I wanted my family back more, so today was the day we parted ways.
Tom walked a slow circle around the truck, whistling low. “Man, they don’t make ’em like this anymore. Original paint?”
“Mostly,” I said. “Couple touch-ups here and there.”
We chatted about cars, his work in real estate, and golf.
Non-stop golf talk. Like he lived and breathed it.
Even dressed like golf, right down to the patch on his jacket of a golf flag.
I was only half listening to all the golf talk, wanting to move the sale along so I could skip to step two of the ‘win my family back’ plan.
“Mind if I take it for a spin?”
I tossed him the keys and hopped in the passenger seat. Tom didn’t rev it or push it, just drove her smooth and respectful, returning with that same relaxed grin. We got out and circled the truck.
“It’s a beauty.” He gave the tailgate a quick pat, nodding to himself. “You said $1,800?”
“Firm,” I replied.
He nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve got nine on me right now. I can write you a check for the rest… unless you prefer cash.”
“Cash works best,” I said.
“No problem. My buddy dropped me off, so I don’t have my car to drive to the bank. But here.” He slipped me an envelope of cash.
I pulled it out and counted. Not to be rude, but you could never be too careful. $900.
“Mind if I take my new truck to grab the rest in cash? The bank’s just up the road. Twenty minutes, tops.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, pocketing the cash. “You know where to find me.”
Tom slapped my shoulder. “Perfect. You’re a good man.”
He slid behind the wheel and gave a friendly wave as he backed out of the parking spot. The engine coughed once, then smoothed out, and the sound of its rumble faded down the street.
I waited.
Half an hour. Then an hour. Then two.
I stood in the empty parking lot until the sun dropped, then went inside to wait for MGM.
Tom wasn’t coming back.
The knock came just as I was finishing the world’s saddest dinner. Boxed mac and cheese, eaten straight from the pot, washed down with a flat beer. If Michelle were here, she’d steal a bite from my fork, laughing against my neck.
I stood and dropped the pot in the sink, still pissed at myself. I’d really done it now—sold my truck to a con man in golf shoes and somehow ended up with neither the truck nor the money. I’d ignored the red flags because I needed the money too badly.
God, I was an idiot.
I bet Tom wasn’t even a golfer. Then I replayed the outfit in my head.
“Nah, he was a golfer,” I mumbled.
The knock became more insistent. I walked over and opened the door.
MGM burst in, nearly spinning me around on his way to the TV and the Nintendo game system Paul had given me a few months ago after upgrading to Super Nintendo.
April and her fiancé, Tony, weren’t into video games, so Mitch’s only chance to hone his Super Mario skills was the two nights a week he stayed with me.
Tony liked to tell me over and over how video games ate away at the brain.
But look at me—I was fine. Then I remembered the golfer and my missing truck. On second thought…
Yeah, I wasn’t a big fan of Tony. He was the type of guy I’d hated growing up.
A jock. You know, the kind that stuffed guys like me into middle school lockers.
He’d played college baseball and never let me forget it.
On the plus side, he had managed to make my kid into one hell of an athlete.
Mitchell was the star player on his youth baseball team and well on his way to stuffing his own classmates into lockers one day.
“What, no hug?” I asked my kid.
“Later,” he called out, already settled into his favorite spot with the controller in hand.
I turned back to April. “Thanks for dropping him off. My truck is… having issues.”
“No problem,” April said, looking past me. “Where’s Michelle? And the kids? Mitchell said they weren’t home when he was over on Tuesday.”
My heart kicked once, hard. I wasn’t ready for this conversation. I kept my tone easy. “They’re visiting her sister for a bit,” I said. “Just girl time, you know.”
April’s brow arched. “Girl time? With both kids?”
“Yeah. Melanie’s got kids too.” I offered up a lazy smile. “Keepin’ them busy.”
I was hoping she’d accept my lie at face value, but no such luck. April had a built-in bullshit detector where I was concerned.
She crossed her arms tighter. “Scott, if something’s going on—”
“Nothing’s going on,” I cut in, too fast. Then I softened it. “Really. We’re just… figuring some things out.”
Her gaze held mine a little too long, and then she bypassed me and stepped inside.
“April, I don’t…”
“If something’s going on, I have the right to know.”
“Why?”
“Because when my child is over here, I need to know he is happy and well-cared for.”
“Yes!” MGM hollered from the sofa. “My highest score! This is the best day of my life.”
“There you have it.” I gestured to our offspring. “Clearly, he’s not suffering.”
April took a spot at the table. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”
And so, I sat on the chair opposite her and gave April a highly pared down version of events, carefully removing any talk of misdemeanors or blackmailers named Marty shaking me down.
In my version, Michelle had caught me taking money from an emergency fund to play poker with the boys.
I hated lying to her, but I couldn’t risk her using it against me and taking MGM away. I couldn’t lose one more kid.
Luckily, April accepted my selfishness at face value. In fact, she was blaming Michelle and not me. Cool. Dodged a bullet there.
“She can’t just keep your kids from you, Scott. You have rights too.”
“There’s nothing I can do if I don’t know where they are.”
“You do know. According to the brother-in-law, Michelle is staying at one of her family’s hotels in the LA area, right?”
I nodded.
Her eyes lit up with sudden purpose. “Do you have a phone book?”
Knowing where she was going with it, I dropped a monster telephone book on the table, and we spent the next half hour making a list of every Carver-owned property in the county. Fourteen in total, with April circling the ones she thought most likely.
“My God,” April said, scanning the list. “How rich are they?”
“Rich enough to take everything away from me… and still have time to make brunch.”
“And she picked you?”
“I know. Imagine my surprise.”
We exchanged smiles, and I felt better knowing I had at least one person on my side… even if I had to withhold vital information to get her there.
“You wanna meet up after work tomorrow?” April asked, using her pencil to circle an area on the atlas map. “We can hit the ones in this radius.”
“We? Like… you and me?”
“You got anyone better in mind?”
“I mean, I have a thousand roommates, but they’re all spiders… so no.”
“See? That,” April said, laughing. “That right there.”
“Huh?”
“Your charm. That mix of soft-hearted and smart-mouthed. That’s how you landed the hotel queen.”
I cleared my throat, searching for a smooth pivot. “Remember that loving feeling, April, because I have something to tell you.”
Her shoulders dropped a fraction. “Okay.”
“I got a job at the post office. It’s got good benefits and stable hours.”
“What? That’s great, Scott. Congratulations.”
“Not so fast. It’s in Ventura. I start next month.”
Her enthusiasm waned. “Ventura’s not exactly down the street.”
“I’m aware. It’s about an hour’s drive, maybe more, depending on traffic,” I said. “It’s going to be a challenge, I know.”
“Not just a challenge,” she said, her jaw tightening. “You’re going to move away from Mitchell. It’s not just about Keith and Emma. Our son needs his father, too.”
“I get that. But we’ve got to figure out a way to make it work.” I met her gaze squarely this time, emotion catching in my throat. “April, if we don’t… I’m going to lose them.”
She didn’t answer right away, her expression shifting as she considered my words. “What about us…” April caught herself. “I mean, Mitchell?”
“I’ll do whatever it takes. He’s my boy. You know how much I love him. But I gotta do this.” I met her eye. “She’s got my heart, April. Always has. And if she’s gone… I don’t even know who I’ll be without her. Definitely not the kind of man MGM can be proud of.”
Her eyes misted, emotions hitting her in a fast, unsteady rush. I held my breath, waiting for the verdict. Waiting for her to tell me I was a selfish bastard, that I was abandoning one son for two other children who weren't even hers.
Finally, she let out a long, shaky breath, her gaze dropping to the list of rental properties on the table between us. When she looked up again, the anger was gone, replaced by a devastating sort of resignation, a deep, soul-aching sadness that made my own heart clench.
“You’d really fall apart without her, wouldn’t you?” she asked, her hand gesturing to me. “Look at you. And she’s only been gone a couple of days.”
I nodded. “I’m barely clinging to life over here.”
We sat there staring at each other, reflecting on the change ahead.
“Fine,” she said, her voice gaining a sliver of its usual strength. “Fine. You go to Ventura. You get your job and your house, and you fight for your family.” She tapped a perfectly manicured nail on the paper. “And I will help you.”
Relief washed over me. “April…”
She held up a hand, cutting me off. “Don’t. Don’t thank me. I’m not doing this for her.” Her eyes held mine, raw and honest. “I’m doing this because Mitchell deserves a father who is whole. And if she’s the one who’s holding you together… then I can’t be the one to tear you apart.”
The unspoken words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating.
I’m doing this because I love you. It was a truth we’d danced around for years, a ghost that haunted the edges of our co-parenting.
Even after she got engaged to Tony, that invisible tie lingered.
She’d never admit it, but I think part of her still wanted the version of us that had never actually existed.
“We’ll figure out a schedule,” she continued, all business now, as if erecting a wall around her own heart. “Weekends. Holidays. I’ll drive him up halfway if I have to. We can do this.”
“Thank you. Really, April. Thank you,” I said.
She stood, grabbing her purse from the back of the chair. “So tomorrow, then? Come over to my place after work.”
“Yeah, about that. Do you think I could borrow your old Accord in the driveway?”
“Why? What happened to your truck?”
I shook my head, the sting of it still fresh in my mind.
“I got Caddyshacked.”