Page 56 of Changing Lanes

Here I am, walking away again. Why do I always do the opposite of what I know to be right? She drives me insane with the condescending way she speaks to me. She turned out just like her father. I’m glad I got out when I did.

I wanted to be the one to tell Torrie about Andi. There’s more than just I’m a father involved, but in true Torrie fashion, she thinks she knows it all. The look on her face when I told her I wasn’t married was priceless. That’s what she gets for being a know it all.

I do my best to put Torrie out of my head on my drive home, but it doesn’t do any good. Walking in the house, I toss the mail on the table. Bent over the back of the chair, I bow my head to try to shake off this mood. I don’t hear her walk in but I smell her perfume and wait for the questions to start.

“Are you leaving with her?” Her tone alone crawls up my back. Like any of this is her business.

“Are you kidding me with this shit?” I’m over her controlling ways.

“Have you fucked her yet?” Ava unleashes on me.

“First, is Andi home?” I scan the room for her backpack.

“She’s outside, I’m just dropping her off.” She sits down without being asked.

“There’s not one thing you have asked me that is any of your business.” Walking over to the sink, I get a glass of water. Taking a few deep breaths, I do my best to calm down.

She folds her arms over her chest. “Her rich dad offer to pay you off again?”

“No. Besides, you know I’d never take it,” telling her as I rub the side of my face, I’m aggravated.

“You’re right, I know you better than anyone else. You need to remember that.” She comes over to stand beside me. “Andi is your life now, she has to come first,” Ava reminds me as if I’ve forgotten.

“I think that’s advice we can both benefit from, don’t you?” I retort. Her face turns red, she’s fuming.

“I’ve always loved you. I’ve never hurt you.” She storms out the door.

What the fuck did I ever do? I fell in love. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve spent my life making up for my past. It’s about damn time I have a future. I call for Andi to come do her homework and start dinner. Mom comes in just after I get things rolling.

“Hey, baby.” She kisses Andi on the head.

“Hi, Gamma. Mom picked me up today, she took me for ice cream.” She smiles at mom.

“That’s nice. Brannon, what’s for dinner?” She pats me on the back as she walks by.

“Spaghetti. I’m ready to eat and fall into bed,” I explain without looking at her.

“Tough day?” She stirs the sauce while I cut vegetables for a salad.

“Yeah, but nothing I don’t deserve,” I say as I get the plates down.

“Hold on one minute here, you’re a good man. You’ve done more since you were fourteen than most men their entire life. You be proud of who you are because we are.” She begins to tear up.

“Mom, I’m not a good man. I did all these things because I had to, it was my penance. Had I not made the mistakes, I wouldn’t have had to correct them.” She moves closer to me, laying her hand on my face.

“Some wouldn’t bother to correct their mistakes.” She lays her hand over my heart. “You’ve paid enough. It’s time to heal your heart.” Andi runs over, wrapping her arms around my waist as my mom hugs me. I’m blessed.

Once we eat and the kitchen is cleaned, I go to bed early. I am tired. The last few weeks have kept me awake at night, and the stress is starting to get to me. Although I’m in bed, there’s no sleep. I toss and turn until three in the morning. Deciding to get up, I check on Andi as I pass her room.

Tugging my coat on, I walk out to the barn. Climb up the ladder, I lay back in the fresh straw for a little while, thinking.

Sitting up, I take out my old lock box, opening it up to reveal my prized possessions. In it, things from my past. Reaching in, I move Andi’s baby picture. Lying under my dad’s obituary, I find it. Taking it out, I unfold the paper, staring at it for hours. So much I should’ve done differently is wrapped up in this one piece of paper.

Putting the box away, I shove the paper in my pocket. I’ll put it in my wallet later, I want it on me in case I need it. I put it there ten years ago, only taking it out when I wanted to remember her. The things we shared and what could’ve been.

Walking back to the house, I decide to take Andi out for breakfast, I wake her early. “Mornin’, baby girl. Would you like to go for breakfast with Dad?”

She smiles, melting away my worries. “Yes, I’m starving.”