Trouble in Loveland

by Jennifer Peel

  Mark was a decent enough guy. He was a little older than my mom, and he had four grown kids that were all married and had kids of their own. My mom was in grandma heaven. It was like she was meant to be a grandma, which was weird for me. I always assumed she would only dote on my children. That is, whenever I got around to getting married and having them. Nothing in my life was turning out the way I had imagined.

  Two more years passed and cheerfulness really had returned for me. I had met a really nice guy named Jay Danbury, and he reminded me that, once upon a time, I was fun and spontaneous. He was an All-American boy, or I guess I should say “man” since he was twenty-six and I was twenty-five. He had beautiful blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and, of course, he was tall. He was in my MBA program and just what the doctor ordered. The only problem was, I wasn’t in love with him and he was ready to make plans for the future, and he wanted to include me in them. I cared for him deeply, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t love him.

  I had come to a crossroad in my life. I was about ready to graduate with a master’s degree, but I had no job prospects because, guess what? I had no job experience. See how that came back to bite me in the butt? No one cared that I TA’d for two years. And I had a really good guy that wanted to make me a permanent fixture in his life, but I knew it wasn’t right. Marriage seemed hard enough, even when you’re totally in love with someone.

  It was at this time my mom and Mark had a little intervention with me. I was annoyed Mark was invited. Yes, he was a decent guy, and I was glad he made my mother happy, or at least kept her stable, but he wasn’t my dad. I didn’t even look at him like a stepfather. He had entered the picture way too late. They both sat me down and basically told me to grow up, get a job and get over the past. And most importantly, forgive. Apparently my parents, the real ones, Monica and Jeffrey, had discussed me at length, and they both thought it was a good idea that I move back to Colorado, at least for the summer, and work for my dad.

  I stared blankly at my mother. “Huh?”

  She took my hands in her newly manicured ones, “Charlee, honey, it’s time to forgive your dad and grow up.”

  I wanted to object, not to the growing up part per se, but objecting seemed childish, which would have only proven my mom’s, and apparently Mark’s, point. He just sat there and nodded his head yes at everything my mom said. I won’t even mention how hypocritical she was being. It seemed rich coming from the woman that went through a second teenage phase and only got her act together a couple of years ago. Who was the responsible one then? Oh yeah, that would be me.

  I stood up. “Fine.”

  As I walked away, my mom called out, “Someday you’re going to thank me for this. I love you.”

  Yeah, yeah.

  I guess it was good timing, and it helped with the whole break-up with Jay. I felt terrible about breaking up with him, especially when he pulled me close and whispered, “I love you,” in my ear.

  I wanted to be in love with him. I really did, but it just wasn’t there. I don’t know why.

  On a more positive note, Krissy was getting married and, of course, I was going to be her maid of honor. Being in the same state would be much more convenient. And by the way, remember when I mentioned her and Chance, my old boyfriend? You guessed it. They ran into each other last summer, in Target of all places, and the sparks flew. Krissy’s parents still lived next door to my dad, but Krissy lived in Fort Collins, which was only twenty-five to thirty minutes from my dad’s house. That was at least exciting for me. I had missed being close to Krissy.

  With my degree in hand and my loaded down Jetta, I hugged my mom goodbye in the middle of May. She held on extra tight. I was glad it was only her. I had said goodbye to my grandparents, Mark, and his family the night before. They had a little graduation celebration for me. It was still so weird that my mom was part of that. It had just been the three of us for so long, and now my mom was in the middle of a semi-large family. I had to admit, I missed being an only child and I still mourned the life I thought I should have had.

  “I love you, CJ. Thank you for being my rock,” my mom said as she held me to her. It was the first time she had ever acknowledged what I had done for her. She almost seemed hesitant doing it then.

  I tried not to think about that time in my life. “I love you, too, Mom.”

  She pulled back, held my chin, and looked me in the eye, which meant she had to look up. I was a few inches taller than her. “Go home. Be happy. Forgive your dad, he’s a … good guy.”

  I wanted to disagree with her, but her look silenced me.

  “He made a terrible mistake, but he’s not a terrible person. And I’m sorry if I made you believe that,” she said almost reluctantly.

  “I’ll try my best, Mom.”

  She tapped my nose like I was two. “I have a feeling that good things are in store for you. Just don’t mess it up.” She had to throw in a snarky comment.

  I shrugged my shoulders and smiled closed-lipped. I hoped she was right, but I didn’t see how moving back in with my cheating dad and working for him was a good thing. Unfortunately, it felt like the right thing to do. I knew I had to forgive my dad, and I needed to find peace with the life I had, not the one I thought I should’ve had or wished for. I needed to be happy in the moment. Jay had helped me realize that, and now I needed to remember it. Why couldn’t I be in love with Jay?

  I got into my car, and my mom stood and watched me until I couldn’t see her anymore. I had a ten hour drive ahead of me. My dad had offered to fly in and drive back with me, but I felt like I needed the alone time to contemplate, not to mention I hadn’t spent ten hours straight with my dad since I’d moved to Kansas almost eight years ago. I felt kind of guilty for that, especially when I thought about all the things my dad had done for me, including buying me the car I was currently driving. It was a graduation gift when I earned my undergrad. He drove it all the way out to me, and I probably wasn’t as kind as I should have been to him. But no matter how indifferently I had treated him over the years, he still tried to make an effort with me. He tried to keep connected.

  I think I cried half of the way there, partially out of fear, but mostly because I had missed home; I knew it wasn’t going to be the home I remembered. I knew a lot had changed in my absence. I’ve already mentioned Krissy and her parents, my dad’s neighbors to the left, but what about my dad’s other neighbors, the Carters? Well, the Carters moved to D.C. I’m just saying, CIA. But some Carter decided to stick around and buy his parent’s house. My favorite Carter, Ryan. And to top it off, Ryan and Victoria had divorced the previous year. I only knew this because of my mom. I had been very good about not thinking about Ryan, other than to cringe when I thought about how stupid I was to ever have had a crush on such an older guy. Ryan sent my mom their family Christmas cards over the years, so that’s how I knew Ryan was a dad. I thought his son’s name was Josh, and he was the most adorable kid I’d ever seen. He had red hair like his mom, but he inherited his dad’s green eyes, like spring buds. I was pretty sure he was three years old. And Ryan still worked for my dad. He was actually a partner at my dad’s accounting firm. I knew this because my dad still emailed me the company newsletter.

  I swear the drive between Kansas and Colorado is the longest, most boring drive in all of the United States. I could have probably set the car on cruise control and napped all the way there. Thankfully the speed limit was seventy-five, which meant I could do like eighty-five and most likely not get busted for speeding. Honestly, though, I didn’t feel any desire to speed toward my destination. I kind of wanted to prolong the journey. I knew once I got there I was going to have to deal with things my heart had purposely not dealt with for many years, mainly my dad. I was going to have to find a way to get over the hurt and betrayal I had felt for almost a third of my life. I wasn’t really sure how I was going to take it.

  After miles and miles of plains, desert, and monstrous windmills that, in my opinion, should be banned
because they’re terrible for the landscape, I could finally see my mountains. I was almost to Denver, and there they were, in all of their majesty. I could still see some snow on the caps. I shed a few tears. I was home. Sure, I had been back to Colorado for a few weekend visits with friends, but I’d never been back home.

  I carefully waded my way through Denver’s rush hour traffic. I probably should have left earlier, especially since this was Friday. As I sat in bumper to bumper traffic on I-25, a little apprehensiveness crept in. I wasn’t sure how to behave around my dad anymore. I knew he was anxious for me to get there. He had already called me like six times to check on me, twice in the last hour. He sounded excited. I tried to be a little emotive, I’m not sure how well I did.

  Eleven long hours later I was just about ready to pull onto Mulberry Lane. I took a deep breath and tried to dry my eyes. Everything looked so different, but the same, if you know what I mean. The trees were larger, there was a new subdivision behind our neighborhood, and a newer shopping complex close by, but it still felt like how I remembered it.

  My dad was waiting for me in the driveway when I pulled up. He was at my car door before I even turned off the ignition. My emotions overwhelmed me as I looked at him. I don’t think I had really looked at him in forever. I had done my best to ignore him, but there he was. He looked so distinguished and handsome. His hair was almost completely gray now, but he still had plenty of it. He looked so happy as he pulled me out of my car as soon as my seatbelt was off. He didn’t even hesitate to pull me to him, and I didn’t hesitate in reciprocating.

  “Daddy.” I hadn’t used that term in almost eight years. He had just been dad or father. In my mind, he hadn’t been deserving of daddy. Maybe it was silly for a twenty-five year old woman to use the term, but it seemed right in the moment.

  He pulled me tighter. “Baby girl, I’ve missed you.”

  I couldn’t help it. I cried like a baby. I had missed him, too. More than I had wanted to admit to myself. I soaked him in. He still smelled like Irish Spring and Old Spice.

  I’m not sure how long we stood there embracing each other, but I got the feeling it wasn’t nearly long enough for my dad. I suddenly felt like a little girl again.

  “Do you want to unpack first or go get something to eat?” he asked as he reluctantly let me go.

  “I don’t think I can even think about getting back into a car right now.”

  He laughed. “So unpacking and takeout?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  We both seemed unsure around each other as we unloaded the car. These next few months were going to be interesting, to say the least. I had eight years of hate to get over. Part of me felt like I didn’t even know this man, but yet he was just like I remembered him from before “it” happened. I was so torn. My heart, and even my head, were telling me I needed to let go and forgive, but there was that part that said, How can you forget everything you had to give up? And what about watching your mother lie in bed for days because she felt completely worthless and betrayed? I would sit there and stroke her hair and beg her to get up. I would tell her over and over again how wonderful and beautiful I thought she was and that my dad was wrong and horrible. She would list all the things that she thought were wrong with her, and she felt unworthy. It was heart wrenching, but that wasn’t even the worst of it. My mom changed. She was no longer the mother she had been most of my growing up. I felt robbed in a sense, but I guess if my mom could forgive him, I should at least try to. Hating him for so long hadn’t done me much good.

  It didn’t take us long to unload the car. I was still down in the basement. It looked the same right down to the charcoal gray sectional and pool table. Even my room was the same—my dad had left the Denver Nuggets posters up. Sadly, or almost comfortingly, the rest of the house looked the same, too. It even smelled the same. I noticed all of our family pictures were still on the walls, even the ones of only my mom and dad. It made my heart ache.

  He smiled at me as I looked around. “Feel free to decorate any way you want. And if you want to spruce things up, we can go shopping, or I can give you my card.”

  “No, that’s ok. I brought stuff from my apartment.” Besides, I already had a card from him. I had tried to be responsible with it.

  “Ok, well, I’ll let you get settled in. Is it ok if I pick up burgers from Harry’s Pub?”

  “Perfect,” I smiled.

  My dad pulled me to him once more. “CJ, I’m so happy you’re home. I love you, kiddo.”

  I just nodded my head against him. I hadn’t told him I loved him in a very long time.

  He kissed the top of my head and left me to look around and unpack. I started with my bedding. My old full-size bed was devoid of any coverings. As I started to make my bed, I noticed a gift bag on my nightstand. I sat on the edge of my bed and peered into the contents. I smelled it before I saw it. That sounds weird, but the smell of a new basketball was unmistakable. The tears came again. I reached in and pulled out an official NBA Spalding ball. Those balls weren’t cheap.

  I held it in my hands, almost reverently. I hadn’t held a ball in forever, and it was like my hands came to life. I spun it on one finger and smiled to myself. I still had the touch. I even dribbled it a couple of times on the hardwood floor. I loved the sound of the ball against the court, and I could almost hear the screech of shoe soles against the wood. I ached to run out and shoot a few. I had noticed first thing that the basketball hoop was still up; it even looked like it had a new net. However, I refrained and placed the ball back in the bag. There I discovered a note:

  “Here’s to new beginnings and taking a shot on or at your old man, I’ll let you choose. Love, Dad”

  I held the note to my chest and shook my head. I would decide later whether to give him a shot or shoot him, but I was leaning towards the first option.

  Chapter Two

  I woke up, and for small a moment I felt seventeen again. I could hear Supertramp on the surround sound upstairs—that was Saturday morning chore music. I hadn’t heard it in forever, and it was my favorite song of theirs, “The Logical Song.” I slowly sat up and looked around. I was home. I stretched and ran my fingers through my medium-length hair. I made a quick stop in my bathroom and threw on a bra. I had to remember I lived with my dad now, and I had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate being reminded how womanly I was.

  I ran up the stairs to find my dad in the kitchen, already dressed for the day; and from the smell of it, already cleaning. It smelled like Pine Sol and cinnamon swirl pancakes, my favorite.

  He turned around from the griddle when he heard me approach. “Good morning, CJ.”

  “Good morning, something smells good.”

  “Sit down, breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Do you want me to make juice or anything?” I asked as I sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

  “I got it. Just relax.”

  “Ok … Dad.”

  “Yes?” He turned back around.

  “You know you don’t have to wait on me and take care of me, right?”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry, I have a whole list of chores I’ve been saving until you got here.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.”

  “And, I know you’re an adult.”

  “I just want to feel like I’m doing my part, you know?”

  “Do me a favor and let your old man spoil you for a while, ok?”

  “Ok, Dad.” I smiled and nodded my head.

  He turned back to the griddle and flipped the pancakes. “So what do you want to do today?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. I hadn’t really thought about it. “I don’t know. I did promise Krissy we would meet up for dinner tonight, but other than that, I don’t have any plans.”

  “Do you want to take the boat out on Boyd Lake or maybe hit the trails there with the bikes?”

  I had missed the lake and our boat, and the Colorado scenery in general. To me, Colorado was like heav
en. The sky even seemed bluer here. “Sounds perfect.”

  My dad didn’t turn around, but I could see his shoulders relax, like he thought I might say no.

  “All right,” he said animatedly. “We’ll head up after we’ve eaten and you’re ready.”

  We quickly ate. It tasted like home.

  I hurried to get ready. Since we would be out on the boat, I just showered and threw my hair up in a messy bun. My dad said it would be warm and in the eighties, so I threw on my red one-piece and some white shorts. I looked at myself in the mirror. I could definitely use some color on my skin, so being on a boat all day was perfect. I threw a t-shirt and towel, along with suntan lotion, in a bag and headed upstairs. My dad was ready with cooler in hand and some fishing poles. I shook my head. He never wasted an opportunity to fish.

  “I called the marina at the lake, so we should be set,” he said happily.

  “Great.”

  We walked out together to the three-car garage. My car occupied the single slot. In the double area was my dad’s old Silverado and his Audi. I was surprised he still had the same car as when my mom and I left. He usually bought a new car every few years, but I didn’t bother asking why he hadn’t. He threw our gear in the back of his pickup, and we pulled out. We had just pulled out onto the street in front of our house when I noticed my dad’s neighbor was mowing his lawn. My dad noticed, too, and stopped.

  “Ryan,” he called out his open window.

  Ryan let go of his lawn mower, and the engine stopped. He smiled and began walking our way.

  Oh wow. He looked good. No, better than good. I think “godliest creature” still worked for him. I took a deep breath and told the butterflies in my stomach to behave. The butterflies said, “Why? Remember, he’s not married anymore.” I told them to shut up. I didn’t need the reminder.