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“Tingle?”
“Yeah, that feeling you get when someone who loves you is thinking about you. Missing you. Like there’s some invisible connection that links the two of you, no matter how far away from each other you are. A string that you can tug on and just know they’re on the other end of it.”
“Wow, that’s really …”
“Pathetic,” I finish for him.
“I was going to say romantic. You should put that into one of your songs.”
I chuckle. “Maybe I will.”
“This is about Ansley, isn’t it?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
He nods. “I was wondering when you were finally gonna circle back to her. Glad you decided to do so before someone else locked her in.”
“Don’t get too excited. She hates me,” I tell him.
“No, she doesn’t. She just hates the fame and how it’s changed you.”
“Changed me?” I ask.
“Son, you’ve spent the last ten years or so playing a part. The shit I see about you on television, that’s not who you are.”
“Do you think the fans want to see the real me, Pop? They want the country playboy. They want the whiskey-drinking, honky-tonking bad boy I pretend to be,” I tell him.
He nods. “The problem with all that is, I don’t think you’re pretending anymore. I think you fell in the well and you’re happy at the bottom,” he surmises.
Maybe I am.
“It’s what’s expected of me, and it’s worked so far. I’ve gotten everything I ever wanted.”
“Have you?”
“Most of it, yes.”
“But are you happy?” he asks.
“I’m successful,” I reply.
“You’ve got it twisted, son. Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. There’s no greater value in life than a peaceful house. Coming home to a woman and family that make you feel like a success, no matter what happens. And not just any woman, but the right woman. She’s hard to find, so if you have, you’d better hold on tight because all the money and fame in the world can’t buy that type of contentment.”
“I’m realizing that, and I’m trying to show her the real me. The man I want to be again,” I confess.
“That’s going to take eating a lot of humble pie,” he says.
Mom’s car pulls into the drive, and she joins us on the porch.
“Hi, Mom,” I greet.
“Hi. What are you two up to?” she asks.
“I’m just here, seeking advice.”
“About what?”
“Ansley,” Pop says.
“And what did you tell him?”
“To apologize.”
“I apologized to her. She wasn’t having any of it though.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Did you finally come clean?”
“Not exactly. I just told her I was sorry I hurt her.”
“That’s not good enough. You gotta talk to her, son,” he says.
“I don’t know what to say, Pop.”
“The only thing you can. The truth. Tell her what happened back then.”
“What good would it do now?” I ask.
“A whole lot from where I’m sitting. You messed up. You have to own that, Garrett. It’s part of being a man. She thinks you threw her away. That’s a lot of pain to be living with all these years. She needs to know that wasn’t the case.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“No, it’s not. Just say the words and admit it. To her, to the world, and most importantly, to yourself,” he advises.
“Sure. Hey, Ansley. I was a yellow-bellied coward who let your dad tear us apart, and I never came back for you. I’m sure she’ll leap right into my arms.”
“It’s honest.”
“I don’t want to lose her again, Pop.”
“Can’t lose something that’s not yours.”
