Page 43 of Deeper

“We’re supposed to throw for who goes first, but I’ll let you since it’s your first time.”

Willy stands back and lets me take my spot. I swing my arm and throw the horseshoe. It lands well past the stake. I try again and get the same result.

Willy rushes to push me aside. “You’re overthrowing it, boy. Just like my grandson when I tried to teach him. His tosses were all brute force, but this game calls for some finesse. You can’t just chuck it in the direction of the stake. Take your time. Focus on how my fingers pinch the horseshoe, the way I keep my arm straight, and the glide of my toss.”

I take a sip of the booze with a splash of coffee and then do as he said.

After a few more practice tosses, I get the hang of it, and we play. Willy obviously goes easy on me. He must do this all day long. I throw, and then he takes his turn. He gives me pointers here and there. I shut off my brain and just play the game. It’s probably the first time I’ve decompressed in years. Willy keeps track of the score, but I don’t really pay attention.

“So, where did you grow up?” He attempts to make conversation.

“Around.”

“What brings you here?”

“Travel.”

“You’re not much for taking or sharing, are you?”

“Not really.”

“My Louise used to say that, when a man isn’t a talker, it just means you have to work harder to gain his trust.”

“I haven’t seen your wife around the park.” I have no interest in telling this man anything about myself. It’s better if we focus on him.

Willy’s smile falters, but he quickly fixes it back in place. “I was married for forty-two years. We married five days after Louise turned eighteen, and I was just nineteen. But I lost her a few years ago. She was taken from me, selfishly taken from the world before her time.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” I kill people for a living. The words of condolences coming out of my mouth taste foreign.

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t cause her death.”

I can honestly say I didn’t. I’ve never killed a little old lady before. That isn’t to say I wouldn’t if the money were right, though.

I throw my horseshoes and pretend to be interested as Willy tells me about his late wife, “She’s still with me, though. She speaks to me every day. She’s in everything that I do.” He turns to face me and puts his palm on my arm. “If you find a girl who completes your heart, you make sure you do everything to show her she’s your whole world. You don’t want any regrets when one of you is gone. I’m at peace with Louise’s death because I have no regrets about my love with her.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

I give him a tight smile, and his eyes narrow.

“You don’t believe in love, or you don’t believe in yourself?” Willy returns to throwing the horseshoes.

I laugh at his interpretation. This old man is a pain in my ass, but I kind of like him, which isn’t something I will ever admit aloud.

“You have some brass balls, Willy. But I’ll play along. I believe in love. I believe it exists, but I think it’s a lot rarer than most people think, even more so in the younger generations, including my own.” I stare off at the stake to avoid Willy’s stare. “It sounds like you had the real thing. As for me, it just isn’t something that appeals to me. I like my life and the style in which I live it. I’m not willing to give it up for love.”

“Horse shit!”

I can’t help but laugh and give him my full attention.

“Love doesn’t mean you have to play by society’s rules or give anything up. It just means you have to find someone willing to bend those rules right alongside you. No one ever said love had to equal living in the suburbs with a white picket fence or whatever domestic vision you’re cooking up. Love can spark and thrive in any environment out there. The only thing it needs is for the two people involved to nourish it.” He scratches his head. “Two, three, four people—whatever number of people involved in the relationship. I’m hip. I saw a documentary on MTV about polyamorous relationships being in right now.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a promise.”

“I’m listening.”

“I promise, if I ever find a girl who isn’t scared off by my vagrant ways and other lifestyle choices, then I’ll give love a chance and take all your advice.”

“Good. That’s all I’m asking.” He pauses. “Callen? Lifestyle choices? You got some weird fetishes, like in the books my Louise used to read? I’ve seen the stuff inside those covers. It’s enough to make an old man blush.”

“If only it were that simple. Let’s get back to the game, Willy.”

We play for the better part of the morning, and it’s lunchtime before we part ways.

When I close my door behind me, I realize that I don’t mind that Willy monopolized my whole damn morning.

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