| |
At lunch, Gideon went out back to look for Waylon. He found his friend sitting on the crates and looking quite upset.
“What happened?” Gideon asked when he couldn’t stand the silence and Waylon’s morose mood any longer. “I don’t like to interfere, believe me. But what are friends for?”
“Nothing happened,” Waylon answered predictably. He crumpled his paper lunch bag in his fist and threw it away, a proof that there was something bothering him.
“Well, all right. You do know that I would do anything for you. I’d like to help the best I can. You have just to ask,” he wanted to assure his older friend.
Waylon looked at him and then sighed. “You’re a good kid, but you can’t help me. No one can. Today is a sad day for me. I lost my little girl three years ago this day.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Gideon said, aware the words were quite formal and unable to give comfort. Like the people who’d told him the same when his grandma died. They were sorry for him. Sure. But they had no idea how deeply he felt her absence from his life, how much he missed her. “Was it an accident?”
The older man nodded. “Yeah, a freak accident. At school. A friend gave her a piece of chocolate. She didn’t know it contained peanuts. She was allergic and in a matter of minutes she was swollen and couldn’t breathe. We had an epinephrine pen at home to give her a shot, but she didn’t have it with her. She was only six years old.”
“What about the school nurse? Didn’t she act when she saw the child was sick?”
“By the time the nurse came and realized it was an allergic reaction, it was too late. Aysha was not breathing. We lived at the time in Columbus, Ohio, and I was a sales rep for a glass and ceramic tiles company and I was traveling a lot. The worst was not being able to say Good-bye, to tell her that she was the light of my life and how much I loved her.”
Gideon patted his hand. “She knew. That’s what I’m telling myself. My grandma knew I loved her and how much I appreciated what she did for me. To raise me alone with very few resources. And I hope she looks over me from wherever she is now, in a better place.”
Waylon closed his eyes raising his face to the sun. “In a better place. I wish I could be sure of that. Anyhow, after her passing, I became unhinged and my life went downhill. I started drinking, I lost my job, and one day my wife announced that she’s leaving. I had nothing left, and frankly, I didn’t think I deserved to have. I held myself to blame for Aysha’s death. If only I had been there, or paid more attention, taking care that she had the pen with her all the time.” He struck his palm with his other fist. “Darn, I knew the danger. The doctor had explained it to us. I should have been more concerned about this.”
“They say survivors always feel guilt, and blame themselves for the accidents that take away the lives of our dear ones. Don’t. You couldn’t have changed what happened. Just keep her in your mind and in your heart. It’s the only way that matters,” Gideon advised him, showing a power of reasoning beyond his years.
Waylon grunted. “I dream of her calling me to help her and no matter how hard I try, I can’t reach her.” He sighed again. “After my wife left and after one such nightmare, I looked around me and I knew that my little girl wouldn’t like to see what had become of me. I sold the house and drove west. I had no particular place in mind. I stopped in Laramie to eat. A man at a table nearby asked me if I’d be interested to help him build a fence. The fencing company had left him in a lurch. So, I agreed. Why not? It was not that I had anything better to do. I built his fence, then I repaired his roof and built a shed. I discovered I liked working outdoors. Winter came and I postponed leaving. The construction work came to a halt, but I found other work. A man wanted shelves in the closet and pantry. In the evenings, I tended bar and played my guitar.”
“Weren’t you afraid of the temptation?”
“You mean drinking again. No. I’ve never been an alcoholic. I used liquor to forget. Once I stopped, I had no urge to start again. In fact, occasionally I drink a beer. Only one, mind you.”
“Good. Then, this is a happy ending story,” Gideon said content that his new friend had found peace in a way.
Waylon muttered some unintelligible words. He seemed lost in his own memories. And Gideon understood that even this strong, reserved man needed to purge his soul from the demons that chased him. So, he kept quiet and let him talk. “Not for me. There is no happy ending. A week or two before my wife left, she told me she was pregnant. I swear I wanted to change, to quit drinking, and to start a serious job again.” He blinked several times like bothered by the light. “After two weeks she left anyhow.”
“What about your baby?”
“She said she had been wrong. There was no baby. Or so she claimed. And my world went down again. Later, a year later, thinking back, I realized that she lied. She hid the baby from me.”
“That’s a terrible thing to do,” Gideon whispered horrified.
Waylon raised his hand. “I’m not hundred per cent sure. I just feel that’s what she did.”
“You have to ask her. Do you have her number?”
“I do. And I did ask her, once. She didn’t confirm or deny. She just said that I don’t deserve to have another child. I couldn’t dispute this. Maybe I don’t deserve and maybe she got remarried and the child calls another man Daddy.”
“No,” Gideon said firmly. There was no doubt in his mind about this issue; Waylon had a right to know his child. “I can ask a lawyer about this. I happen to know a very good one, but I’m sure legally you have a right to have a relationship with the child. And the child is entitled to know the truth about who his father is. Later, if he prefers the other man as a father, then it’s his choice. But he should be allowed this choice.”
“Hmm. I don’t want to create trouble with my ex-wife,” Waylon said reluctant.
“You have to. If there is a child indeed. You have to be sure.” Gideon thought of the best way to help his friend. “My neighbor is a retired Private Investigator. He’s an old fox and could give the best advice and discreetly find out the facts. If you’re interested in talking to him, then let me know.”
“I’ll think about it,” was all Waylon said.
Thinking of a way to distract him, Gideon said the first thing that popped in his mind. “Today I met the most beautiful woman I ever saw and I fell in love.”
This out-of-the-blue statement had the expected effect. Waylon frowned and snapped out of his morose state. “There is no such thing as the most beautiful woman. Women come in all shapes and colors. And most of the time when you see their true nature, then it’s too late,” he observed, no doubt influenced by his personal experience. “As for falling in love, there is no such thing either. You are infatuated like any young buck when he sees an attractive female.”
Gideon laughed. “Not this time, I tell you. She is absolutely perfect.”
“Hmm, where did you find this perfect woman?”
“At the law offices where I was with the Boss this morning.”
Waylon raised his bushy eyebrow. “She’s working for some lawyer?” It seemed that he did not have much trust in lawyers.
“She is a lawyer.”
“Get serious, kid. How old is she? Thirty, thirty-five?”
“Probably,” Gideon admitted, not that it made much difference to him. Age was not significant. He had a lot of life experience, rough and tough, while Olivia was like a delicate hothouse flower. “It doesn’t matter,” he said aloud stubbornly.
“Maybe not to you, but I bet the hotshot lawyer has something else in mind than a twenty year old kid, with no college degree, working in construction.”
“Olivia is not so shallow. And how can you criticize me. Do you have a college degree?”
“I sure do, a double major in marketing and financing. But that is not the issue here. It’s good to dream up to a point when a healthy dose of reality is necessary in order not to confuse one with the other, the dream with the reality, what’s possible and what’s not.”
Gideon raised his chin mutinously. “I have plans and I have some money to achieve what I want.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What do you want?” Waylon asked, genuinely interested.
Gideon squirmed on the cardboard pile he was sitting. He hadn’t told anyone of his plans. Not even Zack Monroe. He was not sure if people would take him seriously or laugh at his ambitious dreams. Although Waylon was pointing out his mistakes here and there, he was always justified and never tried to put Gideon down or to mock him. “I want to open a tile and stone business and offer both materials and installing to every constructor in the area.”
Waylon was quiet, back to his own somber character, absorbing what Gideon said. “It’s not impossible, although it will take years to get it off the ground and make it successful. If you borrow all the capital, it will be like walking on the edge, the risk of going under quite real.”
Gideon wrinkled his nose. The prospect was scary, but he was willing to try. “My grandma and I lived very close to poverty in a small cabin in the woods. She had a small SS pension. When the cabin burned down there was not much left except the land. Acres and acres, a hundred or more of wooded land. Last year, Trooper Caldwell informed me that some folks from California are interested to buy all the land. They paid good money.”
Waylon whistled at the amount. “Yes, that would make it possible.”
An idea crossed Gideon’s mind and he knew he had the perfect solution if only Waylon would agree. In a second, it all mapped out like a vision in his mind. “How about you, Waylon? You can’t stay here all your life without achieving more. You owe it to your child. Would you like to partner with me?” He saw Waylon opening his mouth to refuse and Gideon hastened to say, “You said I don’t have a college degree and I might be easily cheated if I don’t understand the figures. You do. You are qualified. What better partners than the two of us? Look how well we work together. The flooring is almost ready.”
Waylon snapped his mouth shut and in his own quiet way processed this very unusual proposition. Finally, he stood up. “Let me think about it.” And he went back to work, but later in the afternoon, for the first time the men heard him softly whistling while snapping together the laminate planks.