Page 63 of Along Comes Trouble

COLTON

J anuary.

February.

March.

Time passes and Mario grows. My beard itches and that damn cat can’t stay out of it. Every time I sit still, he curls up on my shoulder and bats at my facial hair. I get it. I need to shave. I just don’t want to. Why bother ?

I work on the chicken coop. Help with the goats. Get the orchard cleaned up and ready to grow. If there’s work to be done, I’m your guy, but after that? Leave me the fuck alone. I retreat into my trailer at the end of each day. Sit in the dark. Watch some TV. Have a beer. Or two. Or five. Although, judging by the crushed cans littering the kitchen and living room, I’m drinking more than I like to admit .

But, so what ?

I thought I had something. After years of thinking I was destined for nothing more than what I am, I had the audacity to hope, but hope is a stuck-up bitch and Tessa was out of my league. It was only a matter of time before she got tired of a loser like me. I was a damn idiot to fool myself into thinking we could ever have a future .

But it is what it is. I’ll finish out life being David’s right hand man. Mario and I will hang out in the trailer until life fades away. That’s all I could ever hope for in the first place. The little blip of happiness with Tessa was one of life’s cruelest jokes. A taste of what could have been if I hadn’t given everything up for everyone else .

Today was like any other post-Tessa day. I did what I needed to do on the farm and now Mario and I are hanging out in front of the TV, me tipping back a beer while he sits on my shoulder and bats at my beard. A knock at the door startles us both .

“Colton?” David’s voice enters along with a piercing slice of sunlight as he steps inside .

“That’s me.” My voice is gruff. I finish my beer and push off the couch for another .

David scans the trailer, judgement in his eyes. Thankfully, he doesn’t feel the need to jump on my case about the mess. “You coming to poker on Sunday? Michelle’s making food and she wants to know how many people she’s feeding .”

I pull my lips into a frown and shake my head. “Nah .”

“She’s making her meatballs and they’re addicting.” David waggles his eyebrows .

“Still nope. I’m not in the social mood.” Maybe if I don’t make eye contact, he’ll get the message and leave .

David sighs. “I hate to see you like this. I know it’s hard…” He shakes his head and lets another long breath out through his nose .

“I hear you.” I wave a hand in his direction and plop onto the couch. “It’s time to pull myself up by the bootstraps. Just keep swimming. Buck up, soldier. Blah, blah, blah .”

David crosses the room, kicks a few cans out of his way, and sits next to me. “This isn’t you.” He gestures around the room. “You always bounce back, man. Football got too hard. You quit. You bounced back. The farm got too hard. You quit. You bounced back. I don’t know what happened between you and Tessa, but Colton…dude…it’s time to bounce back .”

I rest my beer on my knee and bite the inside of my cheek. My heart pounds and my breath quickens. “You couldn’t be more wrong about me if you tried, you know that ?”

David’s eyebrows skyrocket .

I bob my head and purse my lips. “Do you know why I quit football? It sure as shit wasn’t because it was too hard. You left, man. Mom and Dad couldn’t run this place alone and Sarah wasn’t going to step up and help. So I did. I let you have the dream. I said to hell with football. Let David have it. I’ll stay here and help the family. And that sucked but it was fine because I loved this farm almost as much as I loved being on the field. And then, Dad had a stroke and you came home. You abandoned the dream I gave you. And again, that was fine because we sure did need your help. But in my head, the farm was mine. This place was my future. But then you took that from me, too. So, no. I did not quit because it was too hard. I quit because it was better for everyone else .”

David’s jaw goes slack. He closes his eyes, and shakes his head as if he rejects everything he just heard. “Why didn’t you say anything ?”

I snort. “What good would that have done? They were my choices to make. Would knowing why I made them have changed anything?” I shake my head. “I don’t think so .”

“Colton, man. I’m so sorry. If I’d known — ”

“You know what? Forget I said anything.” I stand. “I don’t want your pity. I’m just tired of being looked down on because of what I did. I ruined my life for you people. I don’t need your judgement on top of it.” I head into the kitchen and lean on the counter. Head down. Eyes closed. For years now, I promised myself I’d never tell David any of this because it’s not his cross to bear. He shouldn’t feel bad because I put my family above my own desires. I just can’t stop making mistakes and letting people down, can I ?

David stands, tries to apologize again and again, but I won’t look at him and finally, he leaves. My phone vibrates with a call and for some reason, I answer it .

“Colton Carmichael?” An unfamiliar female voice .

I straighten. “That’s me .”

“This is Ruth Gibbons at the Brookside Athletics Department .”

Adrenaline hits my system. “Yes ?”

“I’m calling to talk to you about an assistant coaching position here at the high school. Our current coach wants to retire and he’s looking to train his replacement …”

Ruth keeps talking and I scramble for a piece of paper and a pen to take notes. We set up a meeting for Friday and I hang up the phone feeling dazed, confused, and just the tiniest bit hopeful .

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