Since I’ve been back in Beaumont, I have never seen my father. I’m not looking for him either. I’m sure I’ve passed him driving down the street or maybe even leaving the bank. Linda does all our shopping and he wouldn’t dare step inside Josie’s shop. It’s best we never speak. My mom is a different story. She’s been over a few times to see Noah, but it takes her days to build up the courage to actually pull into our driveway. She’s trying to get to know her grandson, even if she can’t look Josie or me in the eyes. My mom also knows that Josie and I are waiting for an apology. It’s not how she treated me growing up, but what she allowed Sterling to do to Josie when she came knocking on the door, pregnant and afraid, that is unforgiveable. She should’ve sought her out and gotten in touch with me, but she cowered in the corner, drinking herself into a stupor instead of doing the right thing. I can easily forgive her for her actions toward me but not Noah.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts about my parents and focus on Noah. He’s tuned me out, getting lost in the simple chords of She’s Like the Wind. He didn’t ask me to teach him this song but when I heard him practicing it, I couldn’t stop myself from asking if he wanted to take up dancing. It was a low blow, I know. It turns out, Josie used to make him dance with her when she watched the movie Dirty Dancing. He was learning the song for his mom and I had made a stupid joke about it. I quickly learned it so I could teach him and now he plays it better than I do.
“You’re getting a lot better... you don’t need to look at your finger placements on the fret board as often.”
“I have a good teacher.”
I shrug. I’m only as good as my student allows me to be, and he knows this. I could have him practicing every day, but I want him to be a kid. I want him to go outside and get dirty in the mud, race his bike down the street and come home when the street lights are on, exhausted and excited for the next day.
“Are you going to take care of your mom while I’m gone?”
Noah stops and sets his guitar down on my bed. From where I’m standing and he’s seated, we have a perfect view of each other. Sometimes when I look at him I see me, other times it’s Josie. It’s hard to fathom that we created him and that I missed most of his life. When I glance at him now, I see worry and trepidation. I put those there in his mind.
I stop pulling clothes off my shelf and go sit by him. I remember so much at his age. How happy I was playing with Mason, how throwing a football around was fun and how we couldn’t wait until high school. That all changed for me in middle school. For Noah, the change is there, just different. We’ve been performing locally for a while and he came with us on the one tour we’ve done since I’ve been in his life. This time it’s different. This time he’s going to experience what it’s like to be the son of a musician. Most children grow into the role. He’s being thrown in to it.
“Do you have to go?” he asks, picking at the hem of his frayed shorts. He bought them like that, much to Josie’s chagrin. When I told her it’s the style, she threw her hands up and left the store, muttering something about spending money on clothes with pre-made holes. But his shorts are identical to mine and I think that’s why he wanted them.
“Yeah, I do. Trixie helped me a lot when I was a kid looking for a place to play. She’d let me play at her club and I slowly started to build a following. If it weren’t for her and my grandmother, I don’t know what I’d be doing right now.”
Noah sighs, turning, so he’s facing me. One foot dangles off the bed, swinging back and forth, while his other is tucked under his leg.
“Why can’t you wait until after school is out?”
Ideally, that’s what we’d like to do but time is of the essence. Not that I expect my son to understand someone else’s plight.
“The club that Trixie owns has been in her family for a long time and it’s closing because she doesn’t have the money to keep it open. There are a few of us going that started out there, and we’re going back in hopes to help her stay open a little longer. I wish I could tell everyone that we need to wait but, if I do, I’ll be too late. And Harrison and JD are going whether I go or not.”
“Do you remember when you first came here?”
“Of course I do.” I’m not likely to forget the two moments that changed my life.
“Nick was mad that you were at Uncle Mason’s funeral and I heard him telling Mom that you’re never going to stay and raise a family.”
“Nick’s wrong,” I immediately tell him. “Mistakes were made when your mom and I were younger. So many things could’ve been different, but your mom and I can’t change the past. I’m not leaving you guys behind. I’m going to work. I’m not any different from other dads.”
This seems to spark a smile out of Noah. “Yes, you are.”
I shake my head. “No, Noah, I’m really not. Every day I wake up, take you to school and go to my studio to write or work on new music. My job is making me take a business trip, and that means I’ll bring home all these cool presents or whatever it is that us dads do. It’s really no different from when Nick went to Africa and came back with Aubrey.”
The mention of Nick returning with Aubrey causes Noah’s eyes to go wide. That scenario probably wasn’t the best one to use since he left and came back with a wife.
“Bad example,” I say, quickly diffusing the situation. “What I mean is parents sometimes have to go away for business, and that’s all I’m doing. The band is going to play a few gigs, help out an old friend and we’ll be home before you know it.”