Page 13 of Inevitably Yours

“You did so much for us, listened to more of my woes than I care to admit, so throw it out there. It stays here with us, and who knows, old man, maybe us youngins have some wisdom you don’t.” Michael’s voice held concern.

“First off, like I keep telling you, I am not that much older than your girl back there, so cut it out.”

Before John could add something to take the edge off what he said, make it seem more of a joke than a sore spot, Erika piped, “Is that an issue for you John, your age? If it is, well, you need to get the fuck over it. I am older than Walker, Tori is older than Michael, I mean, hell, she probably has gray pubes by now.”

That was interrupted by a slew of curses and not so savory names being hurled back and forth and what appeared to devolve into a good-natured slap fight. For grown women, they sure were acting like teenagers.

“Ladies, save it for Jell-O and a high-def camera, please,” Michael delivered with his hands in front of his face and camera clicking sounds.

“Children, don’t make me turn this plane around,” John spoke at the same time as Michael, cancelling each other out over the headsets, but loud enough that it could still be heard.

“Tori, stop it, you old crone. This is serious, but for the record, I’m not sorry.” Erika stuck her tongue out like a twelve-year-old.

“You will be, hooker. You have to sleep sometime, and I think your eyebrows are a little Salma Hayek in Frida-looking. Buzzzzzz.” Mocking a shaving motion, Tori laughed the entire time.

Sometimes it was hard to believe those two weren’t real sisters raised together. After they got their inner children under control, Erika continued, “Where was I? Oh yeah, the getting the fuck over it part. Did you know that not a single couple in our happy little clan is traditional? Not in any way that people expect, not even age. Frank and Francis have been together since dinosaurs roamed the Earth, and did you know, Francis has at least a decade on him? So, see, age is just a number. Problem solved, I am awesome, and you should all bow before my amazingness.”

Erika smugly dusted off her hands and folded her arms like she had just balanced the country’s budget.

Granted, the age thing had been creeping into his mind an awful lot lately, but it wasn’t the biggest hurdle. “Wow, really? Francis looks my age. For that matter, so does Frank.”

“It’s actually sixteen years, Miss Know-It-All,” Tori quipped. “So yes, age is just a number and all that, but I have a feeling that is not what is holding John back, am I right?” Tori’s mood shifted back to serious.

“I have a lot of mental roadblocks up. They never really bothered me before, because I guess that wasn’t a road I wanted to travel, but now?” John trailed off. He didn’t know how to continue without breaching some sort of trust with Augusta. She deserved to hear about his son first. The problem was, he wasn’t exactly his son. But after all this time, John still thought of him that way. Even now that he knew the truth, had since practically the day he was born, he still had a son-sized roadblock in his way.

“Well,” Erika paused, “I can tell you first-hand, being childish and stubborn and running away is the wrong answer. Clinging to what you think you know rather than just fucking reaching for the truth will only hurt you and Gus in the end. I am so fucking thankful every damn minute that things worked out for me and Walker. I mean, shit, I did everything humanly possible to sabotage it, not on purpose, but because I acted like a bratty child. I didn’t trust my damned heart to guide me. And I didn’t trust him to know what he wanted.”

Before John could chew on her words of wisdom, he laughed at the fact that Erika was cursing up a storm. She was always so careful around little Willow, but when she got away, she adopted a sailor on shore leave vocabulary—just like Walker; that man said fuck more than the population of the panhandle did it. John was cracking himself up; that was the first clue this little tet-a-tet was just what he needed.

In his peripheral vision, John noticed Michael examining his wedding ring, seemingly pondering on the I Care inscribed inside.

Once he replaced the ring, he shared his thoughts. “You know, when I was at my lowest point and thought that I would never pull myself up, a wise, bearded mutha told me, and I’m paraphrasing, ‘the question isn’t how you feel, but what you are willing to do to prove it.’” Michael’s seriousness spoke to his emotion. For a moment, silence reigned. John took that time to reflect on the words shared with him. “For what it’s worth, I’ve learned that the people worthy of being in your future will be able to handle your past.”

“Ha, look at you, all grown up and shit,” Erika teased Michael, before turning to John and dropping the humor. “Speaking of pasts, John, have you ever listened to Augusta when she talks about how she views our individual pasts, or when she is trying to bring Walker to a good place? Hell, have you ever watched one of her live feeds?” Before he had a chance to answer, Erika continued, “She says we are more than the sum of our past actions and stronger than it.”

John valued those words, but he would probably appreciate them so much more when he didn’t have a burning question occupying all his brain cells. “What live feeds?” Augusta had a live feed. How did he not know about it? He thought he knew everything, or at least, quite a bit. They had been growing closer as friends before the pregnancy. Obviously, that’s just one more thing I’ve lost along the way. That loss was hard to swallow, as a matter of fact, he refused to.

“Seeing your shock, I can only assume she didn’t tell you. I’m not going to be the one to drop her secrets to you. That is for the two of y’all to work out.” Erika raised her hands in surrender. “I will say her approach to the past makes me believe there is nothing short of hating Lynyrd Skynyrd that she couldn’t handle.”

Everyone agreed that was a deal-breaker, and it lightened the mood.

Michael recounted, “This old guy advised me once to start by assessing what I feel versus what I want or think I want, and to surround myself with the right people.”

John was a little choked up. Not only had Michael taken his words to heart and applied them to his situation, he was reminding John of them when they applied to his own life, as well. That, or it could have been the three hands that landed on his shoulders overwhelming him with emotions. I am one lucky S-O-B. Now, if I can get over myself and see where it could lead between Augusta and me, I might just get luckier.

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