Late Spring, 2000
Mobile, Alabama
The fresh morning air and bright sun drew me from my second-floor window out onto the rooftop. I followed a well-worn path that I’d trekked hundreds of times before. When I reached the point just beyond the downstairs living room windows, I leaped to a grassy patch below, easily landing on my feet. From there, I followed the fence line to my favorite place, our property’s edge along Dog River.
Small ripples lapped gently against the shallow shoreline. I took a seat on my butt, just shy of the river’s edge. Life’s troubles stayed at a distance here, which was why I spent most of my time in this spot.
But the river didn’t work its usual magic. Probably due to this being my last time here.
My heart seriously hurt.
Absently, I picked up a rock and tested its weight by sifting it through my fingers. My grandfather, my pop-pop, came to mind, causing the pain in my heart to ramp up a notch, thinking about the care he used to teach me how to skip a rock properly. Because of him, I could throw a stone better than most. It might even be my superpower.
The last time I saw him, he called me to his side for a final bit of advice. It echoed through my head as if he were sitting right next to me. He explained that experiencing pain was essential in the process of love. Pain showed us how deeply we cared, and how lucky we were to have loved in the first place. Pop-pop knew he was at the end of his life, even if I had refused to believe it.
At fourteen years old, a week shy of my fifteenth birthday, I knew way too much about pain and not near enough about love.
“Beau. Are you awake, son?” The muffled sound of my mom's voice called from inside the house. If I guessed correctly, she was probably near the kitchen. She’d then call me again at the base of the stairs before trotting up to see I wasn’t in my bedroom. It gave me a few more precious minutes of privacy before she found me outside.
She… Me too, I guessed, but for the sake of my current pity party, this was all on her. She planned to exile me from my childhood home in Alabama to live in Sea Springs, Texas, where she grew up and where my other set of grandparents still lived.
I had until the long-haul movers loaded everything we owned into the back of their truck then moved us across the country to my grandparents’ bed-and-breakfast. Maybe the distance wasn’t quite that far, but for the sadness clogging my world, I needed the dramatic flair.
“Beau! Quit pouting and come downstairs. It’s time,” my mom called louder.
I glanced at the empty covered boat dock built fifty feet into the river. Only a ghost of its former self. Empty and void of allthe personality that once hung on the walls. Pieces of décor and memorabilia my father had collected over the last fifteen years.
The rock in my hand hummed, drawing my attention there. I got to my feet, readying the toss. After all, as the two-year reigning champion of stone skipping, awarded by the governing body of the Dog River Festival, I knew how to make the rock bounce across the ripples.
With my arm reared back, I threw the stone forward, sending it flying low across the river. My eyes locked on its descent, ready to count the skips. A throw that should have garnered at least twelve jumps.
It didn’t. Not even one. The rock sank underwater before it ever had a chance to get started.
If a moment represented a life, this was mine.
“Beau, come on, babe! The movers are almost here.” Her heavy clomps up the stairs rang of her irritation.
“You there?” Scott Lee, my lifelong best friend, called from behind the privacy fence. We’d been neighbors for as long as I can remember. We did everything together. Spent some part of every day with the other, and had each other’s back no matter what the situation.
We also had a healthy competitive streak between us. Well, if healthy meant we approached every task with a battle-to-the-death attitude. Each determined to win, no matter the cost. We fished, exercised, and did all our schoolwork together in a race to see who was the strongest, fastest, or smartest.
But, if I were being honest, the invisible connections that bound us together had begun to show signs of unraveling. Scott had grown stupidly girl-crazy, like his brain cells had gone haywire. He wanted and was determined to find a girlfriend who put out. It was all he talked about anymore, and I wasn’t there with him.
Seconds later, Scott poked his head over the high fence. A couple of colorful balloons sprang up behind him, bouncing in the air as he fluidly jumped over the tall slats, landing easily on his feet. The balloons stayed on the other side, unattached to my friend.
“Who’s with you?” I hissed quietly, moving quickly toward Scott to keep him from my mom’s line of vision.
“Come over, I got you,” Scott spoke louder than necessary, sure to have drawn my mom’s attention. “Don’t worry,” he added, looking over at me as he lifted his arms in the air. Mine followed his up. “I put a ladder up. We just gotta help ’em down. They wanted to surprise you.”
“I’m scared,” Lauren said. The very worst possible voice for me to hear right now. My arms dropped to my sides. She’d ruin my last few moments alone.
I’d known Lauren for as long as I’d known Scott. We all lived in the same cul-de-sac. She’d gone from being a good friend to a stalker in training about six months ago when her sights set on me with laser point accuracy. Nothing I did ever dissuaded her. She was determined to make me her boyfriend. With the way she planned our lives together, maybe she thought I already was.
We were to be married straight out of college, and have four children, three boys and one girl for me to spoil. We’d have a lot of money due to my lucrative career with the National Football League. She referred to herself as my beautiful, arm-candy wife. She planned to be a stay-at-home mother, and shop with all the money I made.
Lauren was a pretty girl. Her dark hair and tanned complexion made her unique in a town where freckles and sunburns were the most common.
Her scared face poked over the cap board. The balloons jostled frantically under her death grip. Her dark gaze sought mine then riveted there, staring for several long seconds as tears welled.
