“So, don’t you hold your money, or fame, or anything else in my face. I’ve been the one doing the hard work. Yeah, you can write checks and make Sawyer and my life comfortable, but that’s not what we need. I’d rather live in the old run-down RV we had years ago and have you in our lives every day, than this big ass house and never see you.” Sterling finally meets my eyes as his yelling turns to more of a heartfelt plea. Tears shine in his eyes, but don’t fall. He’s trying to be strong, or hold onto his anger, I’m not sure which.
“You’re my big brother. I’ve looked up to you my whole life. I just—I need you here sometimes. I’m exhausted from holding this family together. Since Nana died it’s only been us. The orphaned Davis siblings—but we’ve always had each other. I just want that back.”
Setting my coffee cup down on the counter, I walk over and pull him into my arms. It’s not a man hug, it’s a brotherly show of affection we’ve been missing for years. My anger and moodiness from the dream subsides and I do the one thing I should have done years ago—I apologize.
Stepping away, I look down into his eyes. “Sterling, I’m sorry. You deserve better from me than what I’ve given you. You have been the sole provider for Sawyer for so long now, that I didn’t realize the toll it’s taken on you. I’m truly sorry, and I’m going to try to be more present. It may be hard for me to be here, but this is where you and Sawyer are. I have no reason to stay away and every reason to come home any and every chance I get.”
“Thanks, Beau. I understood why you left. I always knew how you felt about Callie. Even before you admitted it to Deacon, I knew. I could see the way you looked at her. The way you always made sure she was safe, even if it was from a distance. I was shocked as anyone when you broke it off. I thought you and Cal were headed for the long hall, but you need to know.
“Over the years, you haven’t been the only one hurting. I missed you, but seeing her during our senior year, it made sense why you stayed away. She was destroyed. It took the entire year for her to even have glimpses of the girl she was when she was with you. She avoided me because it was too hard. So, if you’re going to be sticking around more often, I think there’s some wrongs and misunderstandings you should clear up.”
“I hear you. I’m going to try to make things right. If not right, then at least cordial. I’m going to try at least.”
“I think there’s someone you should talk to before you seek out Callie,” Sterling says as he picks up my coffee cup and disappears to his room to get ready for work.
Sterling is right. If I’m going to co-exist in this town with Mason and Callie, there’s someone I need to talk to first. Shoving another K-cup in the machine I holler up to my brother. “Hey, you know Deacon’s schedule for today?”
When I called down to the station house and asked Deacon to lunch, he promptly hung up. The only reason he probably took the call was the do-gooder in him wouldn’t let him dismiss me until he knew there was no real need of police intervention. I persisted. I called until he finally agreed, and here I sit at the small BBQ restaurant per his request.
I was a little nervous about how the interaction would go, so I got here early afraid that if I made him wait he’d up and leave. Looking at my watch now, he’s running about five minutes late. Maybe he changed his mind. While I wait, it’s almost surreal being back here about to meet with Deacon. It’s hard not to remember when Deacon and I were pretty much inseparable.
“Dude, we’re fuckin’ here. Can you believe we’re here? All spring we’ve waited for camp and here we are,” Deacon bellows as we step off the bus. We’re outside the gates of the same football camp we’ve spent the last three years. He’s got his arms spread wide as he takes a deep breath and lets out a loud exhale. The damn drama queen.
“Dude put your arms down and help with these bags,” I holler and push one of his arms down. I’m as excited as he is, but his time of this team has been very different than mine. Coach loves his loud, obnoxious ass. Whereas he can barely look at me—I’m just lucky that I’m as good as I am or I’d have been off the team years ago. Every day he lets me suit up and play the game I love I’m thankful. I know its hell on earth for him to admit I’m worth my weight on the team.
“Beau, we’re finally seniors. No raggedy ass yellow jerseys and eating the shit left behind. We’re getting first choice of everything.” He’s not wrong. Whoever’s bright idea it was to let the seniors get their food first then everyone else had a chance was fucked in the head. But we’re finally seniors, so I guess I shouldn’t complain now that we’re on top.
“Get your asses inside and unpack. It’s lights out in an hour, then we’re up at five-thirty for a six-mile run," Coach yells from the bus behind us.
“And so it begins," I hiss under my breath as I heave my overstuffed duffle and padding over my shoulder.
"Have something to add, David?"
"No, Coach. Just looking forward to camp is all." Coach gives me a stare filled with so much hate and contempt, if I were a weaker man I'd be crumbling in the floor now.
Without a word, coach disappears with his bag and the other coaches into the dorms leaving us players to follow.
" Dude, when's he gunna give you a break? It's not like you were driving the car," Deacon whispers as we shuffle into the dorms. "Davis and I get the last room on the left." Leave it to Deacon to pick the farthest room from the coaches.
"Alright, guys, huddle up," Coach yells as we huff and puff in the heat after rounding the corner to the football field after our six-mile run. Of course, Deacon and I had to make it a competition like everything else and run full speed while everyone else jogged farther behind us. "Before we separate into special teams, there's some jerseys we need to give out." Coach kicks a box full of black jerseys to one of the assistant coaches who pulls the first one out.
"Our first senior is O'Callaghan, Williams." With each name Coach calls our defensive coordinator throws a black jersey. One by one the other five seniors’ names are called and mine is the only one left. I take a step forward awaiting my name when he kicks the box out of the way and pulls out the raggedy ass yellow jerseys.
"Coach, Beau's a senior this year, too," Deacon hollars while the other coaches pretend not to notice the head coach has conveniently forgotten to give me the seniority my peers have gotten.
My hands fist and I see red, but Deacon's hand on my shoulder keeps me from blowing a gasket.
"Is there a problem, Williams?"
"Sir, there's another senior."
"When Davis earns his seniority, he'll get a black jersey." He may be talking to Deacon, but his death rays are slicing through me with each vicious word he spits. He knows I work harder than any player in this field. I've been working for a scholarship to get noticed by the NFL and be able to give Callie the life she deserves.
I lift my chin and take everything Coach gives me. For the next three days, I eat with the freshman and do the extra running with all the underclassmen and wear the yellow jersey without complaint. While I don't outwardly say anything my anger spills over into everything I do.