Page 130 of Before We Say Goodbye
Down in the depths of the cellar, Otis uncorked an ’81 Cheval Blanc and sat across from Vance in one of the small tables covered in melted wax.
A half glass in, Vance said, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since Mom died. It’s been such an honor working with you. You’ve become a father to me, but I have to go. I want this to be my dream, but it’s not.I’m going to move to Los Angeles with the band, see if we can make something of ourselves. I’m hoping that I might sell my land to you.”
In the last few weeks, Otis had detected that Vance had something brewing, and he raised a glass to him. “The honor has always been mine, Vance. By gods, yes, go live your dream.”
After they’d finished the last drop of the bottle, they embraced. Otis kissed his neck and told him he’d always be there for him.
July of 2005, Otis flew out to Colorado to spend some time with Camden. He got out there at least once a year, but it never felt like enough. Otis took Cam and a few of his friends out to dinner that night; then they retired early so they could make the morning drive toward Breckenridge to the Blue River.
“How’s the love life?” Otis asked on the drive. It was always a touchy subject.
“You know, steady.”
“Steady? What does that mean?”
Cam wore a plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves. He ran a hand through his long shaggy hair and gave a grin. “Nothing that makes me want to settle down.”
“Fair enough. No doubt you have to wait for the right one.”
“How about you guys? How’s Vance working out?”
“He’s leaving, taking the band to LA, see if they can make it.”
“Good for him.”
“You know his mom died. We’re about to close on his ten acres. I gave him a fair price.”
They stopped for pastries and coffee halfway there. They sat outside overlooking Grays Peak. A jet contrail striped the mostly blue sky. Cam had polarized glasses on, so it was hard to see his eyes, and Otis wondered what he was thinking.
“Tell me,” Otis said, “are you happy?”
“Am I happy?” Cam smiled. “You know I am. What does that mean?”
“I’m just asking. We don’t see you as much, and I want to know.”
He held out his hands. “What’s not to be happy about? Great job, plenty of time to get outside. I have good friends. Healthy fam. Life’s good.”
Otis set down his drink. “That’s all I want to hear. It’s hard when your kids leave. Whether you two are happy or not, I sometimes feel something missing. If I could do it all over again, I would have made more time for you growing up. Mikey got to see me more. You got the worst of me.”
Cam removed his glasses. “Dad, really? You get so sentimental lately. On the phone too.”
“You wait, son. Once you have kids, you’ll see. I beat myself up sometimes, wishing I could have done better.”
Cam placed a hand on Otis’s arm. “You being right here now is all that matters. There’s nothing that means more to me than your visits, just you and me. I know you don’t love fishing like I do, but you come anyway. And I get it. You had to figure out a way to make the wine thing work when you were young. I came as a surprise. You figured it out, though. We didn’t starve. You gave us a great life. Come to think of it, where I am now. My love for the outdoors. It comes from you. I might not have been interested in farming, but I’m like you in so many ways.”
Otis patted his son’s hand and offered a smile.
“Seriously, I’d rather throw myself out a window than work behind a desk. You and me, we belong out here.” Cam lit up as he looked out over the mountain. “This is where we shine.” Cam gave a quiet “Ahhhwoooo.”
Otis echoed him back, a little louder: “Ahhwwooooo.”
They held eye contact for a long time, and Otis would remember this moment with Camden above all others for always.
They were on the river an hour later, both in waders and vests loaded with gear. Cam told Otis the river was higher than usual, a result of recent heavy rains, so the fish might be a little harder to find. Though he only fished with Cam, Otis had improved over the years. He had a hell of a good teacher.
The Blue River rushed with tremendous force past the boulders poking out of it. The air was much cooler than Red Mountain, seventy-one or seventy-two. There were no signs of humans. This place must have looked exactly the same as it had thousands of years ago. Hills rose straight up from the water and worked their way toward taller mountains in the distance. Spruce and pines reached up toward the clouds. An eagle circled over its nest in the tallest of trees.
There was a summer hatch of bugs, so they both were using dry flies, casting upriver and watching the flies drift down with the current. Cam stood about fifty yards upriver from Otis, and Otis watched his son. Cam made his line dance in a way Otis had never seen elsewhere. Three casts in, he reeled in his first fish, capturing it in his net. A bright grin on his face, he held up the trout for Otis to see, then lowered it down into the water, letting it go with a splash.
