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“I was walking across campus on my way to your mother’s dorm. Back then, there was only the Science building and the Herberger.” He refers to the old ASU campus in Tempe. “She was in Manzanita Hall, and on my way over I ran into Professor Talbert, my engineering teacher.”
“He took one look at me and said I couldn’t go to Winnie Lake’s dorm looking like I wasn’t a serious man with prospects.” My dad laughs as he remembers the moment. “He let me borrow his tie to go with Dennis’s dress shirt.” Letting go of the tie, it drapes over his lap. “Because of that, I was late picking her up and she was angry. She told me she’d go on a date with me once I was on time,” he laughs, the sound comforting.
His expression turns somber. “I never got to return the tie to Professor Talbert though, because he was struck by a car and killed the next day while walking across the street in front of the engineering building.”
I place my hand on his shoulder. “You never told me that,” I say, placing my hand over his.
He’s told a lot of stories over the years but never this one, and I like hearing stories about my mother when she was younger.
“It’s not something I like to remember,” he says, peering over at me. “We had a vigil for him on campus. Lots of students liked him; he was very popular,” he sighs. “I wore his tie and saw Winnie from across the crowd. She was so beautiful; I couldn’t take my eyes off her.” He grabs hold of my hand.
“We went to the Devils Den and had a bite to eat after the vigil. Of course, it’s not there anymore, turned into a Pita Jungle or something now. That was our first date.” He nods proudly, smiling at the memory. “I didn’t know how to return the tie so I kept it, but it reminds me of your mother now more than Professor Talbert because she said it was ugly and I should never wear it again,” he laughs. “We’d get into an argument over wearing this tie, but I wore it on purpose because, God, she was beautiful when she was angry.”
Thinking about my mother I smile, because shewasbeautiful, and kind, but she had a temper… and dad loved to test her patience.
“That is quite a story,” I tell him. “And the fact that you kept the tie this long is amazing.”
“I wanted to bring a little piece of her with me today,” he admits, patting my hand and then pulling away.
“All this time, I just thought you had bad taste,” I tease, making him laugh.
“I miss her, Lake,” he says, and I can feel it all the way down to my bones. “You have a lot of your mother in you – especially her stubbornness.” He turns to look at me and I sniff, shaking my head.
“I’m not gonna be around much longer,” he says.
“Don’t say that, Dad,” I tell him.
“It’s inevitable I’m afraid.” He pats my hand. “I want both of my girls to be happy.”
“I am…”
“Did you see Beth tonight?” he asks, and I nod thinking of how happy Beth looked.
“She’s found it.”
“Found what?” I ask, confused.
“It, Lake,” he says, pointing to my chest. “Now it’s your turn.”
12
IT’S A GREAT ASS
Never Say Never (with Lainey Wilson) by Cole Swindell
Taking the long way back to my room, I enjoy the quiet of the resort. It’s late into the evening; all the guests are tucked safely in their rooms. There’s only the sound of the waterfall from the pool in the distance to keep me company.
Slipping the heels off my feet, I hook my finger under the straps, slinging them over my shoulder. There’s a little bit of a breeze but not enough to cool me off; the air is still balmy. The hotel is made up of Spanish style stucco buildings, dark wood grained doors, with pineapple palms and bird of paradise lining the walkways. Palo Verde trees provide little cover, but their branches fold over the sidewalk creating the illusion of a tunnel.
The lights from the hotel shimmer across the pool as I hold onto the metal bar of the gate wishing I could slip through and submerge myself in the water, dress and all, but the gate is locked.
“Has anyone told you how great your ass looks in that dress?” I don’t have to turn around to know who it is, but I do anyway, catching a glimpse of him over my shoulder as he approaches.
Adrian.
“Your father might have but I could be wrong. I’m not fluent in Romanian,” I say, lifting an eyebrow.
Adrian’s deep laugh washes over my skin. “I wouldn’t put it past him,” he jokes. “It’s a great fucking ass.” He tilts his head, the hint of a smirk on his face.
