Chicago Chapter 13

The only person who could possibly understand his situation was Gary's dad, Wayne Vernon. When Gary was six years old his parents divorced because his father couldn't keep it in his pants. Gary promised himself that when he had a family of his own he would never be selfish and jeopardize it like his dad had, boy was he wrong.

Shoving memory after memory down his throat and back to the black hole of his brain where nothing good every happened, Gary drove his truck up the gravel road and down the long narrow driveway until he reached his father's old broken down farm house out in Kentucky. Tara was heading down to Alabama with the girls to see her parents, so it gave him the perfect opportunity to visit his own dad and seek advice from him.

Not surprising, Wayne seemed shocked seeing his grown son standing on the front porch of his home. The last time Gary had visited that place he was twelve and traumatized. The rest of that visit, Gary sat on the curb two miles down the driveway, waiting for his mother to pick him up.

“Kevin?”

“No dad, it's Gary. I would have called but I don't have cell phone service out here.” Gary shoved his fist into his front pockets with his keys.

“Yeah, not many people have luck with them cellular phones. Here, come in. I was just making lunch.” Wayne held open the screen door for him, walking back into the stuffy, dust covered living room.

“You should really get some air conditioning installed, or at least a window fan, something.” Gary followed his dad straight through the house down a few steps to a small, round wooden table, where a pitcher of sweet tea and ham sandwich with a bag of corn chips were sitting.

“Son, I didn't need air condition growing up; I don't need it now. Quit your bellyaching and go fetch a glass and knife from the kitchen.

Gary exhaled through his nose and without saying a word, he looked through the kitchen cabinets for a knife and a tall glass. In the back of the first cabinet he saw what he thought was a piece of wall paper peeling and tried to picked it off, and when he did, a small photograph fell into his hand. There she was, Sarah-Anne Crawford, the other women in his father's life.

Gary tucked it into the pocket on the front of his shirt grabbed the knife and glass as quick as he could and sat at the table with his dad. While Wayne cut his sandwich in half, Gary asked, “You still love her don't you?”

“What?”

Gary pulled the picture from his pocket and laid it on the table next to his father's plate. Wayne gently laid the knife down and picked up the picture saying, “Where did you find this?”

“In the cabinet with the glasses. Whatever happened to her?”

Wayne sighed, “She wanted me to be a family man, have a better relationship with you boys, but your momma had gotten remarried, and I just didn't see a reason for me to be stickin' around any longer. Sarah-Anne just didn't understand. She thought I was abandoning you. She left after an argument one night and never came back.”

Gary poured himself a glass of the golden brown tea and asked, “Dad, you've had plenty of girlfriends since then. Why'd you only keep her picture around?” Ignoring the lack of their father-son relationship and the abandonment Gary had felt all those years, Gary took a long swig of his tea and waited for his father's response, but there was none.

Wayne picked up half the sandwich and slid the plate over to Gary. He ate his half in silence, still holding the picture.

“You here to dig up old things, or you need something of importance? I've got a busy day ahead of me.” Wayne finished his sandwich and opened the bag of chips.

Swallowing the small bite of ham smothered in spicy mustard, Gary said, “No. Dad... I'm here because I messed up.”

Wayne's eyes perked up with interest and his elbows landed on the table. Folding his hands together, Wayne asked, “How so?”

“Guess cheating runs in the family, but I don't want my family to turn out like ours did. I love my wife. I do. I just... I don't know. Tiffany's just so... I just can't explain it.”

A huge smile spread across Wayne's face, as he said, “You love her.”

“Of course I love her. We've been married for ten years.” Gary rubbed his eyebrows and closed his eyes.

“No. This girl, Tiffany, you love her-”

“Dad!”

“No, let me finish. In the years you dated Tara and all these years you've been married, you've never talked about Tara with the emotion and passion you just used speaking Tiffany's name. You've always proclaimed you loved Tara, but it was never apparent. I knew you were settling. You didn't want to turn out like your mother and I so bad that you married a women you would forever be content with, not insatiable, animalistically in love with.” Wayne shook his head, chuckling, as he shoved a few chips in his mouth, coughed, and took a long swig of his sweet tea.