“Where are you?” was all he said, as Everett wondered what he was thinking. This was all pretty scary.
“I'm in Butte.” Everett still said it like a native, although he had lived in other places. He still had the faint accent of Montana.
“You are?” Chad sounded astonished again. “What are you doing here?”
“I have a son here,” Everett said simply. “I haven't seen him in a long time. I don't know if you want to see me, Chad. And I wouldn't blame you if you don't. I've been thinking about doing this for a long time. But I'll do whatever you want. I came to see you, but it's up to you if you want to. If not, I understand. You don't owe me anything. I'm the one who owes you an apology for the last twenty-seven years.” There was silence at the other end, while the son he didn't know digested what he said. “I came to make amends.”
“Are you in AA?” Chad asked cautiously, recognizing the familiar words.
“Yes, I am. Twenty months. It's the best thing I ever did. That's why I'm here.”
“Me too,” Chad said with some hesitation. And then he had an idea. “Do you want to go to a meeting?”
“Yes, I do.” Everett took a deep breath.
“There's one at nine o'clock,” Chad offered. “Where are you staying?”
“The Ramada Inn.”
“I'll pick you up. I drive a black Ford pick-up. I'll honk twice. I'll be there in ten minutes.” In spite of everything, he wanted to see his dad, as much as his father wanted to see him.
Everett threw some cold water on his face, combed his hair, and looked in the mirror. What he saw was a forty-eight-year-old man who'd seen a lot of rough road in his day, and had abandoned his three-year-old son at twenty-one. It was something he wasn't proud of. There were a lot of things that still haunted him, and that was one. He hadn't hurt many people in his life, but the one he had hurt most was his son. There was no way he could make it up to him, or give him back his years without a father, but at least he was here now.
He was standing outside the hotel in jeans and a heavy jacket when Chad pulled up. Everett saw that he was a tall, handsome boy, with blond hair and blue eyes, a powerful build, and the gait of Montana as he got out of his truck and approached. He walked to where Everett stood, looked at him long and hard, and held out his hand to shake his father's. The two men looked into each other's eyes, and Everett had to fight back tears. He didn't want to embarrass this man who was a total stranger to him but looked like a good man, the kind of son any father would have been proud to know and love. They shook hands, and Chad nodded acknowledgment. He was normally a man of few words.
“Thanks for coming to pick me up,” Everett said as he got into his truck, and saw photographs of two little girls and a boy. “Are those your kids?” Everett looked at them in surprise. It had never even occurred to him that Chad would have children of his own. Chad smiled and nodded.
“And another one on the way. They're nice kids.”
“How old are they?”
“Jimmy is seven, Billy's five, and Amanda is three. I thought we'd done it, but then we got a surprise six months ago. Another girl.”
“That's quite a family.” Everett smiled and then laughed. “Holy shit, I've had my son back for five minutes, and I'm already a grandfather, times four. Serves me right, I guess. You got started early,” Everett commented, and this time Chad smiled.
“So did you.”
“A little earlier than planned.” He hesitated for a moment then, afraid to ask, but decided to anyway. “How's your mom?”
“She's okay. She got married again, but she never had any other kids. She's still here.” Everett nodded. He was leery of seeing her again. Their brief adolescent marriage had left a bitter taste in his mouth and probably hers too. They had shared a miserable three years, which finally drove him away. They were the worst possible match he could have imagined, a nightmare right from the beginning. She had threatened to shoot him once with her father's rifle. A month later, Everett walked out. He figured if he didn't, he'd kill her or himself. It had been three years of constant battles. He had started drinking heavily then, and kept at it for twenty-six years.
“What do you do?” Everett asked Chad with interest. He was a strikingly handsome young man, far more so than he himself had been at Chad's age. Chad had a chiseled face and was a rugged man. He was even taller than Everett and had a far more powerful build, as though he worked in the outdoors, or should.
“I'm the assistant foreman at the TBar7 Ranch. It's twenty miles out of town. It's all horses and cattle.” He looked like the perfect cowboy.
“Did you go to college?”
“Junior college. Two years. At night. Mom wanted me to go to law school.” He smiled. “That's not my thing. College was okay, but I'm a hell of a lot happier on a horse than at a desk, although I have to put in a fair amount of desk time now too. I don't like it much. Debbie, my wife, teaches school. Fourth grade. She's a hell of a rider. She's in the rodeo in the summer.” They were the perfect cowboy and wife, and Everett didn't know why, but he sensed that they had a good marriage. He looked like the kind of guy who would. “Did you get married again?” Chad looked at him with curiosity.
“No. I was healed,” he said, and they both laughed. “I've been roaming around the world for all these years, until twenty months ago, when I put myself in rehab and dried up, long overdue. I was too busy and too drunk for all this time for any decent woman to want me. I'm a journalist,” he added, and Chad smiled.
“I know. Mom shows me your pictures sometimes. She always did. You do some pretty cool stuff, mostly wars. You must have been to some interesting places.”
“Yeah, I have.” He realized that he sounded more Montana himself now, talking to the boy. Short sentences, clipped words, and fewer of them. Everything here was spare, just like the rugged terrain. There was an incredible natural beauty to it, and he thought it was interesting that his son had stayed close to home, unlike his father, who had gone as far as he could from his roots. He had no family here now, the little he had were all dead. He had never come back again, except finally, for his son.
They reached the little church then, where the meeting was, and as he followed Chad down the stairs to the basement, he realized how lucky he was to have found him, and that Chad had been willing to see him at all. It could easily have been otherwise. He gave silent thanks to Maggie as he walked into the room. It was only due to her gentle, persistent persuasion that he had come, and he was thrilled now that he had. She had asked him about his son the night they met.
Everett was surprised to see that there were thirty people in the room, mostly men and a few women. He and Chad sat down next to each other on folding chairs. The meeting had just started and followed the familiar format. Everett spoke up when they asked newcomers or visitors to identify themselves. He said that his name was Everett, he was an alcoholic, and had been in recovery for twenty months. Everyone in the room said “Hi, Everett!” and they went on.