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I chuckle. “Oh, probably. Carter was hell of hyper when we were younger, never sat still. I’m sure his kid will be like that too.” I look over at my best friend manning the grill like a champ, his apron readingThe Grillfatherwith a man’s silhouette wearing sunglasses and a bowtie under it, and bite back a smile.
“Hey, y’all!” I hear a woman call in a deep Southern accent. I recognize her as Carter’s friend Lincoln’s wife. She’s holding a little boy about two years old with red hair, and Lincoln holds another boy the same age, his hair is blond though. That’s right, she had twins a couple of years ago.
Carter and Taryn greet them, and I hear Lincoln say. “Here. Don’t ask me what it is. Some Southern dish, I was told to hold it.”
Christa’s brother and his girlfriend, Larissa, and her one-year-old nephew Brett Jr. were invited as well, and I watch as her brother holds onto him in the pool, giant floaties attached to his arms so he doesn’t sink. Christa was so happy when he was born, she cried, and we have watched him a few times so her brother and his girlfriend could go on dates. At this point, I might as well start babyproofing our new house.
“Wow, so many boys,” I comment, looking at Mr. Chin’s kids, and a few more employees, plus the little guy in my lap. “Someone needs to bring a girl into the mix,” I quip.
“I agree. Who should do it?” she asks, teasingly.
“We could try for one.” I kiss her nose.
She shakes her head. “Sorry, bud. Gotta put a ring on it first.”
“Don’t worry, I will.” I wink at her.
I’ve been hinting for weeks, but she simply waits patiently. I know she loves surprises and I don’t want to ruin it for her. My proposal involves another helicopter and a gondola lift, so when we hike up, I’m sure she’ll figure it out. I already bought a house and she’s been moving her things in slowly, as her lease on her tiny house isn’t up yet, plus she enjoys the solitude and alone time, even though we mostly spend every night together. She still does her girls’ nights with her friends, but they’re all married now, and she wants to be next.
Carter surprised me last month when he called me to lunch to tell me he had a gift for me. What I had ever done to deserve anything from him was a mystery, but over appetizers and drinks (tea for me) at the country club he belongs to, he told me he took the 190k and invested it while I had been in prison. He happily watched it grow, even through the dips and losses at times, and it was at over $900,000 now. He handed me over all the log in and passwords and told me to do whatever I wanted with it. I had been shocked. I decided to let him keep some control over it, asking him to please keep doing those stock things, because I have no idea how they work. It grew to over a million by the time the new year hit the following year, making me now a baby millionaire.
I took six hundred out and bought a house for Christa and me. It isn’t a mansion but she picked it out and said it was perfect so it’s perfect in my eyes, as well. No swimming pool but we don’t want one, we have my sister’s to use whenever we want, and it’s only a mile or so away from our new house.
I took another $200,000 out and used a hundred of it to set up an anonymous trust fund for little Andrea Stamp, so she could go to college once she graduates in a few years. If she doesn’t want to go to college, I don’t care what she does with the money and she will never know it’s from me because I think it’s better that way.
The other hundred I donated to the hospital where they were making a new critical care unit for brain injuries, and all the donors got their names put on plaques on the wall. I donated it in Jill and Terrance Stamp’s name in their honor. Again, asking to remain anonymous, but that their names be used.
I don’t feel like there’s anything else I can do except live with my mistakes and hope that people are more careful when they drive. Surprisingly, I was asked to speak at an anti-drunk driving organization convention who puts on events around the country, and I didn’t quite hold myself together when I told them my story, but I hope it had an impact, and drove home the point that distracted driving was as dangerous as impaired driving.
“Eric, how are you?” Declan Kelley greets me as I stand to get more food from the massive spread inside the kitchen. He holds a beer and piles his plate. He looks festive in khaki shorts and a white tee with an American flag on it.
“I’m good. Much better, I should say. And also, I don’t think I ever thanked you for helping me get that job, and then getting my job back when I returned. It’s really been a life-changer.”
“Oh, hey, no problem. We need PTAs badly, and with your experience I’d be stupid to turn you down and not recommend you. I’m just glad it worked out. Any news on getting your state license reinstated?”
I set the food down and grab a glass of lemonade from the clear glass dispenser sitting on the counter. “Yes, I heard last week. The state board met and decided to give it back to me. I’m so relieved.”
“Holy shit, that’s amazing! I’m sure we have a PT opening, if not several.” He fist-bumps me.
“That would be great. I’m going into HR on Monday.”
What I don’t tell him is that I called up Serina, my former hip replacement patient, and asked her if she knew if the Denver Broncos were hiring in-house PTs. She did some legwork for me, and sent me information to apply. That would be my dream job, and the pay is out of this world.
“That’s a great idea,” he says, looking at me with his light-green eyes. His dark-brown hair is purposely messy, and he’s got the start of a dark beard coming in. I’ve never seen him so casual. “I’ll put in a good word.”
“Thank you. You come here alone?” I ask. I’ve never seen him with a woman except once at Carter’s big birthday party Taryn threw him earlier this year.
“Yeah, I like it that way.”
“Terminal bachelor, huh?” I ask, taking a sip of lemonade.
He shrugs and picks up a cream cheese salami roll. “Something like that.”
Taryn walks in with baby Killian. “Hold him. I need to get more cold cuts out.”
She again thrusts the baby at me, and he drools all over my shirt. “This kid needs a bib,” I say, making a face.
Declan laughs and lifts up his plate. “Good luck with that, man.” He inclines his head at Killian.
