After signing all the appropriate paperwork and waiting what felt like forever to be able to hold my son again, he was released and in my arms. No matter how old my children are, I will always want to hold them and fight for them. I will always hold their hand and let them cry on my shoulder when needed. Which is what Grady is silently doing now.
We collect his things, including his phone, which we discovered now has a cracked screen that happened during the fight, and both Grady and I climb into the back seat of Barrett’s pickup, and Grady immediately leans his head on me. The ride home is… well, interesting. Barrett is still quiet. Not angry quiet. Just quiet. The events of the night finally taking over, first the winning game, Bri’s attack and getting arrested — it’s all apparently come to a head for Grady as he lays his head on my shoulder, his own shoulders shaking and holding me around the waist tightly. It’s all enough to bring any teenage boy to his knees, and my Grady is no different. He is powerful, strong and brave, but put him up against the force of someone threatening to hurt the person he loved most in this world and it is all too much.
Barrett pulls into the driveway and parks, and we all somberly walk into the house, not quite ready to share our individual thoughts, one of which being, what will happen when his coach and the recruiters who have been calling find out. But that’s neither here nor there right now. Tonight we need to comfort our son.
“I need to call Bri.” Grady’s timid voice breaks through the silence as we all stand in the kitchen, none of us moving toward our bedrooms quite yet.
“She’s fine, honey. Brandon got her home, and Cole checked on her,” I reply with a soft voice.
“No, Mom. I need to call her. I need to hear her voice, to hear from her that she’s fine. I know I got there in time, that he just—” He chokes on his voice and bites out his next words. “—hit her. But, Mom and Dad, you have no idea…” His voice trails off, and I can just see how much this is affecting him.
“Grady, I’m exhausted. This is by far not what we had planned for tonight, and before we sit down and hash everything out, I need sleep. I’m afraid I won’t be the best listener right now, so I think it’s best for everyone’s sake if you go to your room, call Bri for your peace of mind, but don’t talk long. Get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.” My husband’s gruff voice sounds scratchy and tired.
And as much as I want more explanation from Grady right now, I have to admit he is right.
Whatever Grady hears in Barrett’s voice makes him realize he better not argue. “I will, but, Dad, I know I said this, but you’ve gotta know… I’m so sorry. I would never hurt someone on purpose. I can’t explain it, but I lost it. It’s just seeing Bri, she’s…”
“I get it, son. Bri. That’s why I get it. You understand? That’s also why I’m not yelling my lungs out right now, but it’s never a good excuse. I want you to go to bed. Think about it. Think long and hard about your actions. We’ll talk first thing in the morning. Don’t make any plans tomorrow.”
“Got it,” Grady replies with a single head nod and hard swallow. The dark bags that have already developed under his eyes and cuts that cover his hands tell a story I’m sure none of us want to relive anytime soon are the physical evidence of his own exhaustion.
“Grady. Shower first, yeah?”
That gets a small smile out of him. “Sure thing, Mom.”
“Love you. Get some sleep.”
“Love you, too.”
Barrett walks over and gives Grady a hug before stepping back, keeping his hands on Grady’s shoulders. “Love you, son. Never forget that,” His voice is now less scratchy and far more firm.
“I won’t, Dad. Love you, too. And again, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t at all what you expected from tonight.” Grady gives us another small smile then heads downstairs to his room and the bathroom he’s claimed as his own.
Barrett’s large frame sinks onto the kitchen chair as soon as Grady is out of sight, and his head goes straight to the table with a loud thunk, causing me to giggle. Probably not the right response right now, but the night has been one I never expected.
“Ahhh, hell, Tess.”
“I know.”
“What a screwed-up damn night. How do I even begin to discipline him for something that I would have done too?”
“What do you mean?”
“If that were us… if it would have been you being attacked by someone? I know I would have beat the shit out of him, too. Without a second thought. And probably not felt a damn bit sorry about it.”
“I know, babe. I know. And I agree with you. But it doesn’t make it okay.”
“No. It doesn’t.” He sighs deeply and rubs the scruff on his face. “I wonder what kind of conversation Dawson’s having with that prick of a father of his tonight.”
“Oh crap. I didn’t even think of him. How long do you think it will be before he beats down on our door?”
“Well, I guess it depends on what Dawson tells him. If he tells him the truth, then he won’t show up. If he admits who beat him up but doesn’t tell him the why, then he’ll be showing up any time. My guess, though, is that even though Dawson’s dad is a supreme asshole, he won’t stand for him attacking a girl, so he’s probably withheld that little tidbit of information.”
“Well, if he shows up, he’ll find out. No way am I gonna be able to hold back and not let him know what his son did.”
He grins at me, shaking his head. “I know, mama bear. I know.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Let’s go to bed. I’m exhausted. You’re exhausted. And if I know my sons, Cole will be here first thing in the morning, and Grady will be up at the crack of dawn, ready to explain.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Chapter Ten
Barrett
As a parent, I’ve had some crazy shit happen. But none crazier than hearing my son was arrested at the same time I was about to finally have sex with my wife. If anyone ever says being a dad is easy, he’s lying. Maybe deserves to have his nuts in a vice. Some days parenting sucks. It’s hard as hell, frustrating, both discouraging and encouraging but it’s all worth it. It is. After last night, I have to remember why it’s so worth it. Never in my life did I expect to receive a phone call like that.
It seems weird, but I almost have to be grateful. At least he had a decent reason to beat the crap out of that punk. Bri is like a daughter to me. The thought of someone doing anything to hurt her in any way angers me enough to make me want to go over to his house and have a few not-so-kind words.
After an insanely fitful night of sleep, I drag my old ass out of bed, feeling about ten years older than I did yesterday morning, and walk into the kitchen to start the coffee. A full pot. We are definitely going to need it. I turn my head when I hear shuffling feet moving across the dark wood floor and see my beautiful wife, sleep rumpled and stressed. She immediately walks over to where I’m impatiently waiting for the coffeepot to fill and wraps her tiny arms around my waist. She lays her head on my chest and sighs heavily.