Page 30 of Tastes Like Watermelon Moonshine
“You’re George’s son, Austin, right?”
This time I'm able to pinpoint the location of the voice. Behind me, closer to Dad’s house. A groan escapes my parched lips as I stand up, twisting my back to get some of the kinks out.
“I am. And who are you?” I lock my eyes on the man, trying to intimidate him. There are wrinkles around his eyes, a long beard covering part of his shirt, and salt and pepper hair that’s pulled back into a ponytail. Is the guy trespassing, or some sort of maintenance guy? A sense of unease fills me, causing my heart rate to increase. I clench, then unclench my fists; grabbing my bat, prepared to defend myself.
“No need to get your hackles up. I’m Dave.” The man pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, then raises his hands in a show of surrender.
This is Dave? The guy who’d introduced Dad to God? He and my dad are polar opposites. Dad is a high end executive, he lives in suits and button downs. This man is wearing a worn t-shirt and jeans. He reminds me of the type of guy I’d run into in Clear Creek, not this ritzy suburb of Atlanta where Dad lives. But his easy going and aloof manner reminds me of Pastor Thompson, Chrissy’s Dad.
Using my free hand, I scoop up the helmet. Then, I push back the netting with the bat. Slowly, I cross the lawn. Taking more time to study this Dave guy. I’m guessing he’s close in age to my dad, mid fifties, but Dave’s face is more weathered, like he’s seen more of life.
Before stepping onto the patio I kick the dirt off my cleats, then plop down on the stone paver steps. “So, you’re Dave.” I say while I untie and remove one cleat. “How did you meet my dad?” Dave drops down to sit next to me, and the age on his face becomes more apparent; the laugh lines around his eyes, and a warmth and kindness I’ve come to associate with people who love God.
Dave laughs. “We met at a bar.” He rubs his hands on his pants, looking off into the distance. “We were both searching for something.” His voice catches and a tear slides to the corner of his eye.
Situating my elbows on my knees I wait, not asking or begging him to respond. The search for something is relatable. I’m still searching. Searching for God again, in a way. Wondering if there is hope. Hope for me and God. Hope for me and Raegan. “What were you searching for?” I finally ask.
“I’d walked away from God. For a while I thought that alcohol could fill that spot in my heart,” Dave says in a near whisper. He shakes his head as another tear appears. “I wasted a lot of years in my search. Filling my heart with worthless things. Hurting those who loved me. Thinking I could ignore God, put Him off and come back once things were better.” His brows knit as his mouth twists in a half grimace, half smile.
Maybe I’ve been doing the same thing. Trying to do it my own way? Thinking I’m better than, or at least know better, than God. Was I even supposed to date Raegan? Was I supposed to accept the contract the Bottle Caps offered me? I wish I knew the answers. I wish I could read God’s mind.
“I had plans to find my happiness, get comfortable, and then I’d make time for God.” He closes his eyes for a minute, then chuckles. “That happiness never lasted. The alcohol didn’t last, the drugs, the women. None of it ever lasted. Then I’d have to go looking for more happiness all over again.”
The sliding door opens behind us. Dave and I turn. “Hey, Dad.”
“I see you met Dave.” Dad smiles and something like a contented sigh seems to leave his lips. “Why don’t y’all come sit at the table? I can bring out sodas or water, and some snacks.”
Once we’re all situated at the table Dave and Dad continue the story–about how they both decided to “give religion a go,” again, in Dave’s case, and see if that would satisfy the ache and give them the happiness they both sought.
As they talk, I just sit and take it all in. Somehow God took two very different men, and pulled them back to Him. If Godcan make such a drastic change in my dad, He can definitely do something for Raegan and me, right?
“I grew up in the church.” Dave rubs his chin, as he leans back in his patio chair. “I went to seminary. Pastored a church for a few years. Married a wonderful woman. Finally after eight years God gave us a little girl. And then—” Tears fill his eyes.
I don’t have to guess at what comes next. I don’t say anything, but the words are perched there, on the edge of my tongue.God took her from you.
Dave twists his mouth from side to side. His neck bobs with a swallow. “God called her back to Him.”
I kind of want to cry, too. But I don’t, because I don’t want to look weak. Dad’s eyes have tears in them as well. If God is so good, why does He take things from His people? Why can’t people get to hold their loved ones forever?
“I told God I was done with Him. My marriage fell apart. I didn’t want anything to do with a God who took children from their parents. Children they’d prayed for for years.” He lays his glasses on the table and rubs his tears away with a napkin. “God chased me for a few years, as I sought my own happiness. Sitting down next to George at the bar that day… Something in me changed. Seeing someone else in pain, seeking that same happiness, did something inside me. I knew where we could both find the happiness and meaning we wanted in life. In God.”
“And next thing I knew, beer wasn’t all that desirable.” Dad coughs, his cheeks coloring. “Virginia wasn’t desirable. But God was.” He meets my eyes. “And that’s how God got me.” He lays a hand on Dave’s shoulder. “God got us. And I can’t thank God, or Dave enough, for it.”
I nod my head, too many thoughts flitting through my mind, preventing me from speaking. Does God want me back? Did God have some plan that maybe… Might bring Raegan and me backtogether? Or will the rest of my life be lived without Raegan? And if so, how will I survive?
I know that part of the brokenness I feel is the shame, but there’s a Raegan-shaped spot that needs to be filled. And no one but Raegan will ever fill that spot. Ever.
“Well, I didn’t invite Dave over to share his testimony, but I’m glad you got to hear it, Austin.” Dad lays a hand on my shoulder.
A light seems to shine in Dad’s eyes. One that takes me back to when I was younger, a happiness that hadn’t been there while Dad was having his affair. And if I really think about it, it had been missing for even longer than the affair.
I can’t help but wonder if my eyes have changed too. Is there a new light there? Or, more accurately, had there been a new light there, that’s now gone? A light that disappeared after that night? What will happen if the disconnection with Raegan lasts forever? Would God be enough to fill that void? What if I don’t want God to fill that absence?
“Anyway,” Dad continues, “Dave is a motorcycle guy. And” —He turns toward Dave and waves his hands in the air—“surprise, Dave! I got my license a week ago.”
Ah, that explains Dave’s ponytail. It makes sense. He looks like a motorcycle guy.
Dave lets out a whoop. “We’ll go riding together!”
