Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2) (31 page)

Chapter
60

C
hange
happens — life happens — whether we want it to or not. Sometimes,
it’s not pretty. Sometimes it’s downright, gut-wrenchingly sad. Oft times, if
you’re lucky, it’s subtle — raising neither ripple nor flag. Regardless
of the hand being dealt us, to survive change we must embrace it and make the
most of it or die. Sadly, in this world of instant gratification we live in
there is no other option.

I was directed through the gates with a familiar wave from
Ron, the daytime security guard. “Welcome back!” announced Ron. “We’ve missed
you. You been on a long trip?”

“Yes sir. Leaving again, soon. I’ve got Brinks coming at
six. Kindly wave them through and give them directions to the house, along with
the code to my gate.”

“Will
do, sir. And again, welcome back.”

Coasting down my long and winding drive to the house was
bittersweet — the only description I could muster right now, knowing
this mountain retreat would no longer be mine.
On a brighter note, if I
could find one, Vic could transfer the title to my sons easy enough. My desire
would be for them to accept it, appreciate it and find in it a lingering piece
of me.
In that I found some degree of solace, but only in that, nothing
more.

My do over life began here, the geography, compliments of
the U.S. Government and WITSEC. Thankfully, I was able to resurrect myself,
designing and building custom homes and escapes for the well to do people who
could afford the quality I spent my entire adult life creating. When I found
this property, between projects, I would lie on the rocks at night and listen
to the waterfalls directing me on how and where to build. In my sleep, I
dreamed this house, this setting into existence. Building this home, suspended
on the bluffs over the waterfalls was a major undertaking and not without
risks. But, we did it. I designed it, my crews and I built it, hoping one day
my sons would come here and let their children, when they have children, grow
up with me. Second chances are not guaranteed. You’re dreaming again,
D — in another life, maybe.

Releasing Major from the confines of the truck, he went
straight to the waterfalls for a refreshing cool drink of water while I went
inside and unlocked the walk-in safe. By way of a two-wheeled cart, I handily
moved the ten nondescript crates to the driveway, before returning two of them
to the safe; for the boys, if and when they come. Vic, after the transfer has
been completed, will provide my sons the six-digit pin to access their
inheritance. Until then, it was securely locked away.

Loading enough fresh clothes in
my truck to get by, I took one last look around the house and got teary-eyed
again before sitting down at the farm table and writing a letter to my elusive
sons straight from the depths of my heart:

This
road of life you are now on has been filled with many twists and turns. You
have experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows throughout your
marvelous journey thus far. You have ventured far beyond the shore, more times
than not, successfully. You have been blessed to experience firsthand, the
world, its people, its values, its successes and its failures.

You
have been blessed with the fondest of memories that warm your heart and soul,
memories that reflect the happiest of times through the carefree eyes of a
child. Unfortunately too are memories that you see not as grand, for as you’ve
grown, carefree gives way to the world you now see as a man.

You
have succeeded beyond measure in many things. You may have come up short in
just a few. You continually made those proud who love you. Take a deep breath,
pat yourself on the back, take just a moment to glow and be thankful for the
little things that make you who you are.

You
have discovered through personal relationships what it means to love and be
loved. You have unfortunately experienced with this love, both heartbreak and
the sorrow of loss. You have relished in the opportunities to give with abandon
and learned, ever so humbly, what is expected of you through the gracious art
of receiving.

You
have come to see that change, no matter how large or small, is inevitable,
whether you like it or not. How you choose to accept it will forever define you
and your happiness throughout your life. Living in the past may be the ideal,
but living in the moment is reality and that my son is life.

No
matter what you may wish would not have happened, when people and emotions are
involved, unless you have walked long days in their shoes, their lives are not
yours to judge. We all seek to be happy and we flee from rejection and pain. As
you age, wisdom will follow and you’ll come to understand that true lasting
happiness begins and ends within.

You
have been taught from where your strength comes, where forgiveness begins and
where joy abounds. You have been given through God’s grace, the wisdom to know
you are precious in the eyes of the One who made you and can take comfort in
the knowledge that He always has your back. If you will always call on Him for
the little things, you will find in life through Him, there are no big things.

You
live in a world that is constantly in motion. Stopping the world to get off,
when things don’t go your way is not a luxury you will ever be privy too. The
ebbs and flows of life remain in constant flux. Move with them, embrace them
and you will always find your steps firm and your path made exceedingly clear.

With
you, each new day creates an opportunity to reflect not on the “what ifs” of
yesterday, but to embrace and cherish the moments of today; to believe in the
hope that tomorrow will bring a brighter day. Second chances, too, will come
your way, but it’s best to seize this time, this place, this second and do
what’s right today.

You
are the future. In you there is hope. You are my sons. Whether we live together
or apart, my heart and my prayers go with you each and every day. I long to
grow old with you in my life. You fill me with joy as I watch your dreams come
true.

My
wish for you today is to remember where you came from and the values you were
taught. In you I have given my all, in spite of what you may think, so that you
may have all the tools necessary to succeed in this life and the knowledge and
wisdom to discard the rest.

Finally,
I pray you will look beyond my shortcomings and forgive where forgiveness is
due. I’m not perfect, as you well know; nor will I ever be. I ask for you to
cherish the good in me that makes me who I am and look beyond that which
disappoints you, that you may find in me, not just a parent but also a friend.

I signed and dated it. Stuffing it
into an envelope, I addressed it to the three of them and left it on the table.
I closed the door, knowing in my gut I might never be back. I was sitting on
the teakwood bench near the waterfalls with Major beside me at twenty minutes
shy of six o’clock when the Brinks truck arrived. I signed the necessary
paperwork while the men were loading the crates and watched them drive away.

Now it was my turn. Loading Major in the truck, I said
goodbye one last time to the dreams I’d realized here and to the fond memories
I’d made — the best of them being those I’d made with Candi.
With her,
I could make new ones, better ones, shared ones. … Maybe, just maybe.

Chapter
61

D
riving
south on Highway 111 across the mountains, bathed in the beginning colors of
fall, towards Chattanooga, and all points south, I reflected on happier times.
One, in particular, brought back fond memories of a time not that long ago.

I was balls-to-the-wall,
flying south in the M3 for my second romantic interlude with Candi. I
’
d swept her
off her feet after work one sunny, weekday afternoon. We traversed the winding
roads, commando, to Cloudland Canyon, before arriving at a Civil War-era
B&B, where we made love for the very first time. It was incredible how much
pleasure she brought me. We were entwined for hours on end in that oh-so-brief
overnight rendezvous. During what was to be the first of our many nights
together, I rediscovered the child in me who could never get enough of a good
thing and was always longing for more.

Candi
was refreshing, relishing each moment we spent together, even if it was just by
phone. Sure, it was the newness of us, the mystique of me, the innocence of her
that made each waking moment we spent together pleasurable
—
but, it was worth it ... so worth it.
You are one sick
puppy, D. What did Jim say? Something like,
‘
the flavor of the day.
’

Yes, I could have stopped
and called Victoria when I passed through Atlanta some thirty minutes earlier.
And say what?
‘
Hi
Vic, I
’
m
passing through Atlanta on my way to find Candi and thought of you.
’
That would go
over like a lead balloon. Vic
’
s
safe with her cousin and the big gun dude
—
safer still
with no phone contact with me ... for now.

Approaching
11 p.m. with lightning strikes dancing across the moonless sky, I made it as
far as Jonesboro, GA, before calling it a day. Stopping at another pet friendly,
Holiday Inn Express, Major and I made three trips around the parking lot,
checked in at the front desk and crashed.

Waking sometime after five, I found
Major snuggled on the couch. Candi would blow a gasket if she were here. I wish
she were ... Major, I'm sure would agree.

Dressing
in shorts and a tee, I walked, watered and fed the dog, before tackling the
Elliptical. Thirty minutes later, sweating profusely, I stopped by the
breakfast area and tossed together two eggs, bacon and syrup between two pancakes.
Yuck! I used to like this combination of sweet and salty. Not anymore. I choked
down a second bite, then spit it out, before tossing the rest of my creation in
the trash. Green and black tea it will be, I mused, riding the elevator to the
room, my stomach churning on empty.

Major
greeted me from the couch, his tail furiously slapping the cushions, expecting
the worst, but hoping for the best. I didn
’
t care, not anymore. Candi
wasn
’
t
here to scold him and I no longer had the heart.

Showered,
dressed and packed, that was a stretch since I was still living out of my
daypack, I wrestled with Major all the way to the truck, before returning to
the business center and setting up an alias email address on my Yahoo account.

Retrieving
Marcy
’
s
email address, I fired off an email with
“
Dale Hollow Lake Lover
”
in the subject line and waited ... and waited ... and
waited.
Surely, she hasn
’
t gone to work this early?
It
’
s only 6:30 ... here. Dumb
ass, she
’
s on central time. It
’
s 5:30 there; she
’
s still asleep. I
’
ll give her an hour and log
in again.
My
stomach growled, then roared with hunger pangs.
“
Cracker Barrel, where are
you?
”
I asked to an
empty room.
“
Your country boy breakfast is calling my name.
”

Fifteen
minutes later, compliments of my well-traveled GPS, I was feasting on country
ham
—
a piece the
size of a dinner plate
—
three fried eggs, homemade buttermilk biscuits smothered in
sawmill gravy and fresh fruit
—
no grits.
I have to have at least one healthy side,
geez!
My hunger abated, I felt a nap coming on.
God forbid!
I
ordered black coffee to go.
Yuk!
I enhanced it to make it palatable
—
two Stevia packets and four little tubs of half and half.
There was a time, many moons ago, when I drank four twenty-ounce mugs of black
coffee a day. I even ground my own beans
—
Blue Mountain Coffee from Jamaica. But, once I quit smoking
and changed to black and green tea, I never went back. Now, I remember why.

That was a twenty well spent,
including a small bag of beef flavored treats for the dog. I arrived at the Holiday
Inn at 6:45, Marcy time, hoping her email would be there. I logged in ... it
was. “Yippie-ki-yay!” I screamed, “We’re smokin’ now!” Her email was a forward
from Candi, listing two numbers — one for her, the other for Giovanni. A
short message to me followed:

D,
I knew you were safe, I knew it. Stay that way for me, for Major. Call when you
can, the sooner the better. I need to hear your voice. Baby ... I miss you ...
XOXO

I hopped, skipped and jumped
through the hotel; acting like a twelve-year-old boy who’d just experienced his
first kiss from the prettiest girl in his class. Progress D, you are making
progress. Thankfully, I was in the Tundra pulling a bike and not in the M3. The
police protection all the way through South Georgia was inebriating. I lost
count, somewhere after thirty, of the Troopers intent on slowing down the
northerners who couldn’t wait to put their toes in the soothing Florida sand. I
had to admit, I couldn’t wait to get to Florida either and dip my ... in
something much more satiating than sand. I panted, Major too, but then, I was
vigorously rubbing his belly.

Somewhere
south of Valdosta, I dialed Gio
’
s number, compliments of Marcy ... and Candi. Three rings,
then four...

“
Ciao,
D. Is you?
”

“
Ciao, Giovanni. How are you, sir? Mile? Candi?
”

“
Heard
bad things ... not true. Happy! Mile happy, Candi happy!
”

“
That makes four of us. I
’
m going to take you up on
your offer. The Benefit next Saturday, I
’
ll be there.
”

“
Not
so good idea, you dead ... then you be alive. Everybody know.
”

“
I have a plan. Will need you to work with me to pull it
off. You in?

“
I
in ... Mile in, too.
”

“
That
’
s what I wanted to hear. Do you think you and Mile can
steal away for a few days, say Monday to Thursday and persuade Candi to come
along with you?
”

“
You
have plan, I try. ... No, D, I do.
”

“
Excellent. You ready to ride, broken leg and all?
”

“
Hmm
... Cast
—
no can do. Not, how you say, possible.
”

“
It
’
s possible ... You can ride a trike.
”

“
Yes,
but no trike here.
”

“
There is in Daytona, home of Bike Week and Biketoberfest,
two hours east. I
’
ve reserved two bikes for the week, one Road King Trike for
you and a Sportster for Mile. Tell Candi she can ride with you. That is until
you get here. Then she can ride with me. I want to surprise her.
”

“
You
surprise me ... You surprise her,
”
Gio
exclaimed.

“
Walking on the beach ... that
’
s how I want to surprise her
... excuse me ... that
’
s how Major and I want to surprise her ... On the beach at
sunset.
”

“
Good
... you bring dog? How ... he ride?
”

“
I
’
m working on that. May need to kennel him again. Damn, I
hate the thought
—”

“
He
too, D. May-jore ... yes?
”

“
Yes, it
’
s Major. Gio, I have two whole days of solitude to pull
this plan together. Make it happen for me, for us. I
’
ll find us two rooms near
the Boardwalk that has covered parking and allows pets. You want anything
special?
”

“
Beer
for me, spa for Mile ... stairs no.
”

“
Copy that. Tell Candi you talked to me and all is well.
Will call soon. You run into a problem, call me and leave a message. Thanks,
Gio. Means a lot to know you
’
re with me on this. I owe you.
”

“
No
... owe you. Never ride trike. ... Will now. Ciao.
”