Page 88 of Hauling Ashe

“You watch your fucking mouth.” With fists clenched, I step up to my son. I’ve never touched my child in a physical manner but I’m on the verge of punching Jude, who’s an adult with a sour attitude.

“You don’t need someone like her.”

“You have no idea what I need, kid,” I mock.

Jude is jaded. He lost out on his inheritance. He’s scrambling with a department store under an antiquated name. He’s resentful of the firm I built with Mach instead of returning to Ashford’s, and he’s pissed at his paternity without realizing it never mattered. It shouldn’t matter. I am his dad, although not his father.

“You’ll throw everything away just like you did with Ashford’s,” he warns me as if he’s so wise. “She won’t be good for you.”

There’s so much to tackle here. “Are we having this argument again? Ashford’s was never going to be mine. It’s yours now. You do with it what you will. As for Mae, who are you to decide whether she’s good for me or not? It’s not your call. It’s my choice, and I choose Mae. She’s better than anything I’ve experienced. And I’m not throwing anything away.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice everything for some car driver you paid to bring you across the country?”

Sacrifice? I glance back at the guys huddled near the stage. Julia and Chopper are still standing with their arms around one another on the dance floor. My attention returns to Jude, and my gaze roams up his body. The one I didn’t create but that shares so much of my DNA.

“I know all about sacrifice, Jude. I’ve done it multiple times, but one time in particular stands out to me.” I narrow my eyes at him. “And it was love.” I pointedly stare at him, long and hard. I’m not certain my son will ever comprehend the depth of what I gave up for him, what I did for him, and that’s on him now. He’s an adult. I won’t coddle him. I won’t cave for him.

I’m also not about to lay some convoluted blame on him for decisions I made, even if I felt at the time, they weren’t my choices. Maybe Jude will understand one day when he’s a parent, if he ever gets to that point in his life. He’d have to be open to love and accept the meaning of family—love and sacrifice. I’m not certain he’ll ever get there.

As for Mae, I’m not giving up anything. Mae is love and I’ll be going after her.

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Before I make it out the door, a call for the father-daughter dance rings out, and I return to the dance floor to take my daughter in my arms. Gage Everly sings a slow country song about wishes for my child and the happiness I hope she finds in life.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Daddy. Thank you for everything.”

“Anything for you, baby girl,” I tell her, squeezing her hand in mine. “I wish your mom was here.” It isn’t a lie. Julia should have had her mother present, although the influence of Lily and company has been everything I could hope for in strong, kind women to befriend my daughter. Lily’s touch is everywhere in the details, and so is that of Ester Banks, an older co-worker at Because Cupcakes. They both took Julia under their wings in the industry and in life, and I’m grateful to them.

“It’s okay, Dad. You don’t have to miss her.”

I still, shocked at the statement. “Why would you say such a thing?”

Julia shrugs in my arms, reminding me of Mae. “I know things. I just want you to be happy. I don’t think I can recall you smiling as much as I’ve seen you smile with Mae. It’s a reason I wanted to reunite you with the band.”

I stare at my daughter.

“Mom loved you. She did, despite what she did.” A heavy pause falls between us, and I’m reminded of what Mae suggested. Julia might have known of her mother’s affair. “But she always said a piece of you was missing. A piece she couldn’t fill and kept you separate from her.”

“Jellybean—”

“Let me finish, please.” We both wait a beat, and she continues. “Maybe being with your old friends will bring the music back to you. Maybe that’s the piece you held back. You never played the piano in the house. You’d stare at it like it would hurt you to touch it, but I think that look was really longing. You’d given up so much for us. For Jude. For Mom. Even me.”

“I didn’t give anything up,” I defend, swallowing around the thickness in my throat.

“You walked away from them,”—she nods in the direction of my former band members—“and the timing adds up to Jude’s birth. I’m so sorry you didn’t go back. Whatever happened, I’m sorry you didn’t return to your dream.”

I’m reminded of what Mae said. It took a ray of sunshine and a cross-country trip to learn that dreams don’t change, but sometimes the paths do. We’re led down one road but it’s not the road we’re meant to finish our journey on.

“I’ve been fortunate to have other dreams instead,” I say, staring down at my little girl who is now a beautiful woman.

“I want you to have all the happiness in the world like I have with Chopper.”

“I do, too, Jellybean.” And I will, once I find Mae.

When the dance ends, I press another kiss to Julia’s cheek. “I love you, baby girl.” I cup her face and rub my nose against hers as I did when she was just a child and then I step back, accepting that she’s a woman, with a husband. One day she’ll have a child of her own, and she’ll understand all the more how the roadmap changes and detours happen, and sometimes, the path never circles back.

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