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“You are such an asshole.”
I winked. “Says the whore who made me one.”
“Holy!Dad!”
“Keep reeling, buddy. That’s it!” I said, standing behind my boy as he reeled the line back in. He was struggling but didn’t want my help. He told me on the way up here that he wanted to reel in his own fish.
My boy was becoming a man. I had to step back and let him do that.
“It’s a big one!” he yelled, his voice echoing through the woods around us. I chuckled and looked down the stream before focusing back on him. The fish cleared the water and we both stepped back. Caleb handed me his pole and bent to get the fish.
It was a good size trout; bigger than the others we’d caught. For the last three hours, I’d spent time with Caleb, laughing and joking with him. We talked about life and how next year school would be different for him.
He was going to be in advanced placement classes—in every single subject.
He also wanted to go out for the kid’s football team. He told me this as we were baiting our hooks for the first time. His voice was shy and timid. When I asked him why he was being shy about it, he said, “Because football isn’t the ranch, dad.”
To which I replied, “Football is football. If you decide football is your dream, then you have my support.”
Would I love for him to take over the day he gets back from college? Absolutely, but I wasn’t going to hold my kid back from chasing his dreams. My dream was Hallow Ranch. Mason’s was PBR. Caleb’s could be football.
“You going to throw it back or keep it, bud?” I asked, watching him marvel at his catch.
“Can you cook this one?”
“I can,” I answered, smiling.
“Then I guess we got dinner!”
“I guess we do.”
The sun was setting by the time we got back. The herd was gazing, the fence mended. The workday was done, and my son was happy. We got back to the house, and after unloading everything, he went upstairs to grab his book.
He was readingHarry Potterand didn’t fail to give me a play by play while I cleaned the fish. We moved outside to the back porch where my grill was. The sun was nearly gone, casting a red orange glow over the valley. Caleb was in a rocking chair, his legs crisscrossed as he read aloud to me.
Dinner was nearly done when Lawson walked up to the side of the house.
“Hey, boss.”
“Yo,” I greeted, tipping my beer to him. “Everything alright?”
He looked from Caleb to me and then back to Caleb.Fuck.I twisted and looked at my son. “Hey, bud. Fetch me another beer, would ya?”
“Sure thing, Dad!”
Once he was inside the house, Lawson spoke.
“Cathy is coming up the drive.”
“Son of a bit—”
“She’s hammered and swerving all over the place,” he said, cutting me off.
I looked up at the sky. “Jesus—keep bud inside, would ya?” I asked.
Lawson nodded once and headed inside. I turned the grill down and walked around the house. Cathy’s car was pulled off the gravel, by the oak tree. She was walking towards me—barely. Her hair was greasy, like she’d been sweating and didn’t take a fucking shower. She was wearing a skintight shirt, and her fake tits were falling out. She had on tight jeans with a suspicious stain on them.
“Dennnveerr,” she slurred, raising her arm and pointing it at me.
