Page 57 of Grown-Up Second Chance

But what was I going to do with myself with all the time I’d have, especially once this trip was over? Sit in front of the television, eating chips and flipping through different reality shows to see just how badly people could treat each other? Adopt some grandchildren? Sign up for one of those pole dancing classes and become a stripper?

I snorted.

What if I made a second career out of photography? Tramping through the wilderness in search of an elusive bird or animal? All that hiking … Then there was the software I’d need to manipulate the images.

God, I hated learning new software.

And I hated running through what-ifs.

Grabbing a walking stick, I took off toward one of the nearby trails.

It was a good day for a walk; clouds diminished the strength of the summer sun, and a slight breeze whispered through the nearby cottonwoods. Grass rippled and flowers were falling from bushes, leaving the hard nubs of nascent berries behind. Here and there birds and chipmunks skittered in the underbrush, while overhead birds flitted from branches. Occasionally, a squirrel scolded me from a branch above.

I breathed deeply, letting the peace of the earth quiet the questions I’d been using to torture myself. Instead of planning the future, or tormenting myself with the past, I let myself be present in the here and now.

It was glorious.

But my delicious walk was interrupted by acrimony ahead of me. I heard the man before I rounded the corner. He stood, large and imperious, leaning over a boy about eight or nine. The child’s lower lip was twitching as he forced himself not to blubber.

“You’re an idiot!” the man shouted. “I can’t believe you’re my son. What were you thinking?”

I stopped in the path as they were blocking my way.

“How many times have I told you not to flip your fishing pole up like that?” the man continued. “Now you’ve gone and snared a lure in the tree. Some cute little bird or squirrel is going to come along and get stuck on it. Then how will you feel? Why? Why?”

The kid was going to lose his battle with his lower lip.

While I sympathized with the birds and squirrels, what this man was doing would scar his child. I knew, because I still carried the emotional wounds my ex-husband had inflicted.

And I’d been an adult.

“Can I be of any help?” I asked.

The man straightened and turned my way while the kid’s eyes widened.

“Personal matter. None of your business.”

I stood still.

“Did you hear me? Get moving, lady.”

I wasn’t used to confrontation. In fact I hated it with all my heart. It’s why I’d caved to Larry time and time again. But I couldn’t let him continue to berate that little boy.

“Other than the fact that you’re in my way, I can’t walk away and let you continue to abuse that child.”

“He’s my son, and he needs to be taught right from wrong. Keep moving.” The man stepped off the path and pushed his son out of the way as well.

I stepped toward the boy as I took his father to task. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself! You’re three times as big as he is and you’re yelling.” I spoke to the boy. “What happened?”

He pointed above him where the shiny spikes of a barbed hook glinted in the foliage.

“I was trying to cast like my dad,” the boy whispered.

The man glanced up at the hook.

“Your dad must be a good fisherman.”

“He’s the best!” The boy smiled at his father, who was looking unsure of himself.

---