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So, yeah, I understood why my eight-year-old son was excited for school to be over and for the summer to finally be here. As an adult, though, and single parent no less, I sort of dreaded the summer. I supposed this was how most parents felt. Unless they were a teacher with summers off, it was difficult to make it work.
I had been a single dad for eight years now, Mason’s mother having left him on my doorstep when he was only six weeks old. Just him and a note saying she was sorry and was having a lawyer send me all the papers where she signed all rights over to me. I didn’t even know she was pregnant. She was a one-night stand I had during my college orientation. We used protection, and neither of us were looking to have a child. She was a junior and well on her way to graduating top of her class with honors. She was my campus tour guide and we were both looking to blow off some steam. I was getting acquainted with being independent, soon-to-be a college student, and have my own dorm. And she was looking to have some fun before classes started and the demands of her schedule took a toll on her.
Neither one of us were looking to become parents.
We didn’t run in the same crowds and I was a freshman, so I didn’t see her around campus. I later found out that she transferred schools and was commuting. It wasn’t until I found Mason outside of my dorm room that I knew why.
Needless to say, I dropped out of college and never looked back. I couldn’t. My parents offered to take care of Mason until I graduated, but I would have missed out on too much of his life. Besides, my college experience was never going to be the same, knowing I had a son at home.
Not that I ever intended on being a young father, but now that I was, I didn’t want to look back and question my choices or remember being an absent one, too.
I knew that the only thing left for me to do was get a job to support Mason and I.
Thankfully, in my short time at the University of Miami I made friends with a guy who knew a guy who landed a job at one of the best resorts in Miami. The Emerald Seas Resort was exclusive and getting a job there was no easy feat. You needed a connection. That was where Hunter came in, a lifeguard for the resort. He was a good guy and we quickly became best friends.
He put in a good word for me and I became a surf instructor. It was an easy fit because of my swimming background. I’d always been one with the water. Swimming, boating, surfing, jet skiing, all of it was in my blood. My dad used to be the captain of a small weekend cruise ship, and my mom, well, she might as well have been a mermaid, she spent so much time on the water. So it made sense.
My parents supported me until I saved up enough to pave my own way. Now, they were all over the map, making their way around all forty-eight contiguous states in their RV.
Me, I’d never leave Florida. I lived for the ocean, well, and my son, but the ocean was like my lifeline. It was all I knew.
And I was ready to get out on it. I grabbed Mason’s Nintendo Switch from the couch and a book he left on the coffee table, and threw it in his backpack, along with a coloring book and pencils. “Come on, buddy, we’re going to be late,” I shouted to Mason, who was upstairs, doing heaven knew what.
I placed a hand on the railing and strummed my fingers on it while my other hand held his backpack out for him to take. “Buddy, I mean it. We gotta go.”
Mason came running down the stairs with a snorkel mask on and fins in his hand. He kept on running and grabbed his backpack in his other hand. I shook my head and grabbed his fins. “Where do you think you’re going with all of this?”
“Snorkeling,” he answered, removing the mouthpiece. “Uncle Tyler said he would teach me.”
Tyler was my knucklehead friend, who got Mason snorkeling gear for his birthday. I thought he was too young to snorkel, but apparently what I thought didn't matter. Tyler worked with me at the resort as a pool attendant, so lucky for him, I could tell him all about how his little birthday gift caused me to practically be late this morning when I saw him today.
“Not today,” I said, holding out a hand for him to take off his mask and pass it to me. “Maybe in a couple of years.”
“But Dad!” He stomped his foot on the step and handed me the gear. “That’s not fair!”
I took everything from him and walked it over to the kitchen, where I set it on the counter. I couldn’t be any later than I already was, so I’d have to put it away later. “You’re too young, buddy. Besides Uncle Tyler is working today. He doesn’t have time to teach you.”
“Fine,” he ground out. “Then can I go surfing with you?”
I shook my head and ruffled his hair with my hand. “Not today. I have a full schedule of clients and I’m running late as it is.”
He swung the backpack over his shoulder and stomped out to the car without another word. Guess that went well, I thought to myself, as I walked out behind him and locked up.
I got in the car and started it, looking back at him as I pulled out of the driveway. “Are you going to give me the silent treatment the whole ride there or—”
I stopped talking when I got my answer, as he took his Nintendo Switch out of his backpack and looked down.
I looked straight ahead at the road and knew we could be there in less than twenty minutes if the traffic wasn’t bad, which it usually wasn’t at this time. We had already missed rush hour traffic.
I put on the radio and began flipping through the stations. “Up for our usual game this morning?” I looked back at him in the mirror and noticed he didn’t lift his head up. He was clearly intent on ignoring me.
Car rides were always boring and when Mason was little he used to get car sick, so to take his mind off the nausea, we created this little game. We called it Stop and Switch. I turned the dial on the radio and changed it really fast and when Mason called out “stop” whatever station was on stayed on. The switch part came into play because if he didn’t like it, he got one chance to say “switch” but then it stayed on whatever the station was he stopped on next and we’d have to listen to it until we got to where we were going. Even after he stopped getting car sick, we kept playing it. It became a tradition of sorts.
I sighed. “Come on, buddy, I can’t play it on my own. What do you say?”
I began to slow down and come to a stop as we came to a red light and waited for Mason to give up on this silent treatment he was so determined to give me. Finally, I heard him answer, “Fine.”
“Fine?” I asked. “Just fine?” I smiled as I looked at him in the rearview mirror again. “If we weren’t in the car, I’d have the tickle monster come and get you.”
