Page 34 of Truck Me Daddy

‘Yeah?’ I reply, unsure as to what Reece might be about to say.

‘I know you want to show respect to Mikey’s wishes,’ Reece says in between glugging down half of his iced drink. ‘But since when does a Daddy like you let the boy call all the shots? I mean, Mikey gave you his side of the argument. Surely you need to put your side across too?’

I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath.

Reece is talking a lot of sense. He’s right that I truly want to respect Mikey’s feelings and ensure that our relationship is based on mutual respect.

But it’s also only right and fair that I get to try and make things right.

After all, what kind of Daddy would I be if I just allowed my boy to feel sad, send me a message ending the relationship, and then just walk away from the whole thing we had together.

That doesn’t sound right.

That doesn’t sound right at all.

‘Okay, I think our man is formulating a plan,’ Ranger says, exchanging glances with Reece. ‘So you gonna call Mikey? Make things right?’

‘No,’ I reply, my voice full of controlled passion. ‘I’m not calling him. Or messaging either. I’m going to see him face to face.’

‘But…he’s out on a delivery?’ Reece says.

‘He is,’ I continue. ‘But going off the time he sent the message, and the route he’s on, I’m guessing that my boy is going to be making himself comfortable in his favorite out of town diner in a couple of hours from now.’

‘Oh hell yeah,’ Ranger says, high fiving with Reece. ‘We’re into romcom territory here, brother.’

‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘But I need to restore my baby boy’s faith in me. And what better way to do that than prove to him that I’ll travel any distance to make time for us to spend time with one another.’

‘Holy shit, you’ve really fallen hard for Mikey, haven’t you?’ Reece says, a knowing look on his face. ‘You want him to be your Forever Boy.’

‘See you guys tomorrow,’ I say, not wasting a single second. ‘I’ve got some serious ground to cover. It’s time I filled the 911’s tank and took her out on the road like I used to back in the day.’

‘Good luck, brother,’ Ranger says, raising his coffee to toast me.

‘Go get your damn boy,’ Reece adds, raising his glass.

I don’t need any further encouragement.

It’s time for me to get back to mine, fire up my Porsche, and get this show on the road.

* * *

‘Should I stop and send at least a text…’ I say, pushing ninety on the freeway as I power on toward the turn off that will bring me closer to the diner – and to Mikey. ‘No, no time. And I need to surprise Mikey. He needs to see me with fresh eyes.’

As I continue to drive, I think back to one of my first friends in the surf world, a wise man by the name of Paolo Jacobs. I was a fresh faced twenty-one year old and Paolo was in his early fifties, but as fit as any man on the water.

Paolo saw that I was a bit of a lost soul, and quickly took me under his wing. At that stage of my surfing career, I had all the flash but none of the substance.

For me, surfing was purely about self-expression and pulling off the wildest trick or doing the most flamboyant move.

But Paolo showed me the real truth of surf life.

Paolo had been surfing for the best part of four decades and had forgotten more than most other people would ever know about surfing – me included.

As I learned to respect the ocean and treat it as my best friend, I came to understand that I could find peace in the water in a way that had never been possible in my life up to that point.

So rather than being the rebellious surfer that many saw me as, I came to understand that I was actually a deeply respectful, calm person who was able to find solutions, feel peace, and live his best life in the water.

Sadly, Paolo passed away in his sixties.

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