Chapter 51: That Wasn't Me

June

Colt is finally home from the hospital, so Bree asked if I could come by and see them for a bit. There's something she wants to talk to me about. Despite the fact that I'm still pretty angry at her and everything, it will be good to hold him again, to let him know I still care.

Ever since Joe visited, I've finally faced my inner demons. I think, at the end of the day, the person I'm most mad at is myself. I kind of floated along, going wherever the wind blew me, just like that feather. If I'd been honest about everything, how I felt about Peyton, how I felt about Bree, none of this ever would have happened. But I can't go back and undo it now—I can only move forward having learned from my mistakes.

I pull up to Gram's house, grab the little gift my Ma sent with me, and head to the front door. Bree greets me with a hesitant smile when she opens the door. Then she wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me tight.

When she pulls away, there are tears in her eyes, but she's still smiling.

I clear my throat.

"Come on in," she says. She shows me into the front room where the piano sits along with all of Gram's books.

"Can I get you anything?" She asks.

"No, I think I'm good. Where's Colt?"

"He's in his bassinet, sleeping. Finally. But he eats again at eleven, so I expect him to wake up soon." She sits on the couch in front of the coffee table.

I hand her the gift and sit down in the chair opposite her. "It's from Ma."

"That was sweet of her," she says. Then she unties the ribbon and pulls out the little pajamas. It's a set of three, one with various fish and fishing gear that says, "Gone Fishing," another with birds that says, "Little Birder," and the last one has Monarch Butterflies and says, "Butterfly Kisses."

"You must have helped her choose these," she says, smiling down at them.

"Maybe." I shrug.

"Thank you, Chap. They're so thoughtful."

She puts them down on the table and picks up an envelope. "This is for you."

"What is that?" I ask.

"A couple of things. Don't open it yet!" She grins. "Wait until you're on the road."

"Yes Ma'am." I tuck the envelope into my back pocket.

"So." She takes a deep breath. "I was wondering...we're going to get Colt baptized in a few months. And I hoped that you would be his Godfather."

My eyes start to water a bit. I clear my throat again. "Cash okay with that?" I ask.

She pushes herself up off the couch and walks over to the bookshelf. She picks out the Native Birds of Texas and carries it back to sit down. "Cash doesn't have much of a say in these kinds of things," she says.

"You guys aren't together?"

"No. His parents wanted us to be married, but I said no. I need to straighten out my own life before I go shackling myself to someone else's."

"That's a pretty big change of heart."

She turns to me, her eyes full of remorse. "Chap, I'm so sorry. About everything. I know that doesn't really make any of it better, but I just wanted you to know. The things I did—that wasn't me. It was like I was out of my mind. Not thinking clearly. I was so desperate for everything to be normal, to be perfect, that I kind of lost touch with reality."

I take a deep breath. "So what will you and Colt do now? Where will you live?"

"Here. After we nearly died, Gram got a bit of a reality check. She's being so supportive now. I'm even going to school in the fall."

"That's great, Bree. Where you heading?"

"To Rice, in Houston. It was a longshot school, but I applied to their music program back in November. I was waitlisted, but just found out they accepted me. Mrs. Carson is going to keep the baby on the days I have to commute to class. They've also offered to help with finances. So for now, it's just me and Colt."

I'm happy for her, despite everything.

"What about you?" She asks.

"What about me?"

"You ever apply to college?"

"Not yet. I started to, but I have to write an essay. I'm not exactly a great writer."

"Just speak from the heart, Chap. You're good at that."

I nod.

"And what about Peyton?" She asks.

"What about her?"

"Did you ever try to win her back?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Naw. I think that's a losing proposition. She made it pretty clear after...everything...that she didn't want anything to do with me."

"Well, you never know unless you try. She might have had a change of heart too, with time."

Colt cries over the baby monitor. She stands and hands me the book. "I'll go get him," she says.

When she walks back in the room, I can't quite believe how big he's gotten. No more tubes or sensors. He looks like a regular newborn.

She sits and puts the bottle in his mouth. "He's an eater," she says smiling. "Does not like to be kept waiting."

"He's so beautiful, Bree."

She nods at the book. "Why don't you read to us for a while?"

I take the book and sit next to them. "Alright, Colt. Listen up now. Your old God-Dad is going to school you on some BOPs."

I open the book to the White-tailed hawk and start reading. Then I remember. My father. The day he tried to make everything right again.

*****

I sat in the top of my tree watching two hawks soar high above in the soft summer sky. Their shadows dappled the evening sunlight that filtered through the pines.

"Jack?" a man's voice called from the forest floor. I glanced down at my father but would not answer him.

"Son... come on down now."

I gazed back up at the hawks circling, calling out in sharp cries. I pretended not to hear him.

"Alright then. I'm coming up."

I watched as he hoisted himself off the ground onto the first large branch, slowly picking his way, limb by limb.

When he reached me, his breathing was labored. He situated himself in the branch across from where I sat.

"Nice view," he said.

I nodded and looked back up at the hawks. One of them had landed in the canopy across the creek. He screeched three long times.

"That's a White-tail," my father said. "Calling out to his mate."

I nodded again.

"They mate for life, hawks. Did you know that son?"

I shook my head.

"They do a better job of it than most people. They're bound until death."

I looked away from him and studied the way the water moved over the rocks in the creek below.

"Kind of like your mom and me. Bonded for life."

I remained silent.

"Your mother is a strong woman. Firm, but kind. She always tries to do the right thing. She tried to fight for me. To show me the error of my ways. She always tells the truth, even if it's painful to the person who has to hear it. I didn't want to hear it. There are times when a man can only see the truth for himself. I finally saw it for myself because she held firm. Steadfast. She saved me, saved me from myself by not being easy on me. I needed to face the truth about the man I'd let myself become. I aim to do right by her. And by you. If y'all will let me."

I still would not speak.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm real sorry about everything that's happened. The way I was—that wasn't me. And I'm sorry I hurt you."

I looked over at my father slumped there in the tree, head hanging.

"And Joe," I finally said.

He nodded, clearing his throat, and his eyes began to water. "What about Joe, son?"

"You sorry about hurting him too?"

"Yes, son. I'm real sorry."

"You won't hurt him anymore?"

"No, Jack. I won't. I promise."

I slowly crawled from my branch to sit near him. Then I grasped his hand. We sat there, holding hands, watching the sun set.