Page 6 of Three Not-So-Little Words (The Lawson’s #3)

six

Time for Some Fun

Drew

“ B etter,” I say to myself as I glance around at Colton’s room. I’ve spent all day trying to get it looking as good as possible, and I think I’ve done a decent job.

I am in no way an interior designer. However, it’s looking more and more like the room he had in Miami. A perk to this place is that his room is much bigger. I still need to do quite a bit of work to it, but almost everything is unpacked now.

More room for toys is always a good thing. I just hope he likes it when he comes back home.

This morning, I dropped him off to Natalie’s mom. When we decided to move here, she assured me that she wanted to take Colton as much as possible.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t take her up on that offer. But her last visit to Miami changed my opinion. Within the past five years, she had to bury her husband and her only child. Colton is her last remaining family, and she wants as much time with him as possible.

So, I guess it’s a beneficial arrangement for both of us. She gets time with her grandson, and I get a little bit of a break.

I love my son with all my heart, but I’m human and need some downtime every once in a while.

And every once in a while, I could really use a beer.

Like right now.

Tomorrow evening, I have Jack’s wedding, but I need something to get into tonight.

Should I stay home and get more done?

Probably.

But I have a night off. I feel like I should take advantage of that.

Guilt punches me in the gut because I shouldn’t think of being a parent as a job. I also shouldn’t feel bad for wanting some time to myself.

Christ, is this what women go through when they have mom guilt?

Before Natalie died, I had a lucrative career as an MMA fighter. I was a dad, but it wasn’t my entire identity. After the accident, I dropped everything for Colton.

That’s how it should be.

But any downtime that I have had has been spent handling all the adult shit that I don’t want my kid to worry about. It didn’t leave a bunch of time to relax or have fun.

Maybe it’ll be a little different now that I have a little bit of a support system in place. I’ll have a new job to go to every day. And I can have a little R & R every now and then.

I walk to the fridge and look inside, hoping some beer will magically appear.

No such luck.

I run my hand over my face, wondering when the last time I had a beer was.

Probably about the same time I last got laid.

I don’t know which of those is more depressing.

Okay, time to go out.

And maybe get a little bit of both.

Jack gave me the names of a couple bars in the area. There’s Andre’s, which apparently is owned by Jack's future in-laws. That’s the first one I drive by, but it looks like it’s closed for the night. Not surprising since there’s a wedding in the family tomorrow.

The only other bar that Jack gave me is one called Yeehaw.

Oh boy.

Oh well. It gets me out of the house.

Driving through town, I get a real feel for where we now call home. It’s small and quaint, but everyone seems nice. They all wave as I pass by.

That’s a new concept for me, but I like it. Lilly Leaf Falls may convert me from a big city boy.

Yeehaw is actually one town over, so I have to take the winding road to get there. Lilly Leaf Falls is nestled in a valley with mountains surrounding it, so there is only one way into and out of town.

While weaving through the mountain road, I make a mental note to take it easy on the alcohol tonight. Driving these roads drunk wouldn’t be smart.

My GPS leads the way to the bar. When I pull into the parking lot, I can already hear country music blaring through the speakers inside.

I’m usually more of an alternative rock kind of guy, but I don’t mind some country every once in a while.

Especially when it’s accompanied by beer.

I head inside, ready to unwind. There’s a decent amount of people, but most of them are scattered at the tables. The bartop is pretty empty.

I sit down on one of the stools and tell the bartender what I want. Moments later, a frosty beer sits in front of me.

I take a swig and savor how good it tastes. The only beer I’ve had as of late has been of the root variety.

I haven’t gone out and had a drink since shortly after Natalie died.

Her mom came into town and took Colton for the night, and I went out to drown my sorrows.

I was dealing with this massive life change, and alcohol was my coping mechanism.

When I was fighting, partying was a fairly large part of my life.

Wanting one last hoorah, I got drunk and took a beautiful woman home with me.

But I was so wasted I couldn’t even stay hard. I tried satisfying her, but I was too far gone to even do that. The next day, I had a hangover from hell, and I had to switch into Dad mode. I decided then for the sake of my son–and my sex life–I needed to slow down on the drinking.

Just another reason to take it easy tonight.

As much as I’m trying to relax, there’s still a nagging voice in my head telling me to go home and get some shit done. I have a million things I should be doing instead of sitting at a bar, drinking beer.

My phone chimes, and I open it to see a picture from Natalie’s mom. Colton is holding a bucket of popcorn and a slurpee with a giant smile on his face. Behind him is a sign that reads CIRCUS.

Looks like he’s having a great time.

If he is, I guess it’s okay for me to have a little fun too.