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And another truth? One I haven’t thought to examine just yet?
I miss my son, absolutely.
But I’m also enjoying the time to myself. The ability to focus on getting things done without being interrupted every ten seconds. I forgot what that was like, and I’m enjoying having those extended quiet times in a way I hadn’t expected.
But I’m not going to tell my parents that. I don’t need their egos growing any larger than they already are.
“I think she’s fine,” I tell them. “She’s good with Teddy and that’s all that matters.”
My mother rolls her eyes. “For someone with a background in education, your vocabulary isn’t very impressive.”
I shake my head but smile just a little bit at her response.
“Look, I know you’re just being gracious,” she tells me, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, “letting us come by on our last day in town to spend it with you and Ted. But why don’t you call up that friend of yours and go have a drink or something?”
I’m surprised it’s my mother who suggests this. If it had been my father, I’d have assumed he was saying I should get a wingman to help me ‘get my dick sucked’.
I still shudder when I think about the fact he said that to me.
But because it’s my mom, it actually gives me pause. It has been a while since I’ve seen August. A few months, actually, even though he’s called a bunch, trying to check in with me.
“Maybe give August a call,” she tacks on. “Your father and I can stay here and watch out for Ted. Consider it one last night of babysitting before we get out of your hair.”
I smile at her, for once feeling like this might be a good call. In the various phone conversations over the past few months, she’s always recommended that I reach out to friends and go have a drink, find a way to take a break from fatherhood. I always nodded and told her it was a good idea but never took the advice or did anything with it.
Mostly because I was reveling in being alone, but also because I haven’t really made many friends here in Sandalwood. My time was primarily spent being a dad, so apart from August, there wasn’t really anyone else to call to go do anything.
But I’m feeling…I don’t know, particularly independent, I guess. And I feel completely comfortable leaving Teddy with my parents. Maybe tonight would be a good night to go out.
“Yeah. I think I’ll do that,” I say.
Then I catch my father’s eye. He winks at me.
“And don’t feel the need to come home early or anything. Just…take your time.”
My mom swats him in the arm.
“Roger, don’t be crass.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Mmmmhmmm, sure you didn’t.”
I roll my eyes at their banter. “I’m gonna go change and give August a call.”
Less than an hour later, I’m sitting across the table from my old friend at The Burger Bar down on Summerlyn Street, the main road that runs through Sandalwood.
“It was about time you called me.”
August pins me with a look that says he thinks I’ve been a piece of shit. And if we’re all being honest here, he’s probably right.
“Well, I figured I couldn’t keep you wasting away by the phone waiting to hear from me for too much longer. You might have moved on and found someone else.”
My teasing smirk from behind my bottle results in August shaking his head at me in irritation—faux or not, I can’t be sure, but it’s probably a bit of both.
“So, tell me. Seriously…how the hell have you been?”
His question comes at the perfect time, just as the waitress arrives with our burgers, so it gives me a second to prepare some kind of answer.
