Read Online A Rocker and a Hard Place by Hunter J. Keane - Free Book Online
Authors: Hunter J. Keane
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chair. “I’m done. Can we go play games now?”
“We should probably help your mom with dishes first, right?” It seemed like something a dad would say.
T.J. jumped to his feet and started grabbing the plates. “Fine, but you have to help, too.”
I helped him carry everything to the kitchen while Emma sat back with a smile on her face. Her phone rang as I cleared the last of the dishes and she took the phone into the other room.
“Connor,” T.J. confirmed with a frown.
“Is he really that bad?” I asked, watching Emma through the doorway. She was smiling, though it wasn’t the same smile she gave me.
T.J. grabbed my hand and started pulling me back to the living room. “He’s alright. I just don’t think he likes me as much as he likes my mom.”
“That’s impossible,” I said, completely biased. But I could understand another man being hesitant to take on a woman with a ten-year-old. “Hey, I just remembered- I have a present for you in my car.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Wait here.”
Emma was in the living room with T.J. when I returned. Her face betrayed no clues as to what the call might have been about.
“Is that a guitar?” T.J. asked, eyeing the case I was holding.
I held it up. “Yeah. It was just lying around my house and I remembered that your mom mentioned you wanted to learn how to play.”
“Awesome!”
“I tuned it up. It might be a little big for you, but you’ll grow into it.”
The guitar had been my first one and I hadn’t been much older than T.J. when Emma taught me how to play it. It seemed fitting that it should belong to our son.
I got T.J. settled on the couch and placed it in his lap. He ran his hands over the strings, eyes full of wonder.
“That’s an amazing gift, Tyler,” Emma said.
She remembered the guitar, knew how much it meant to me.
“It was just sitting around collecting dust. It should be played.” I helped T.J. hold it the proper way and showed him how to strum the chords.
“Do you know how to play?” T.J. asked.
“I sure do.” I looked at Emma. “Your mom taught me when I saw just a little older than you.”
“Really?” The surprise with which he looked at Emma told me that she had never played in front of him. That made me sad.
It bothered Emma, too, and she left the room.
T.J. detected something was wrong. “Why haven’t you been around in the past? If you used to be friends with my mom, why haven’t you ever come around?”
“I don’t live in town anymore.” I couldn’t look away from his unwavering stare. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your mom.”
“I think she likes having you around,” T.J. admitted, turning his attention back to the guitar. “She’s been smiling a lot more lately. And I think she’s been avoiding Connor’s calls.”
“You’re pretty nosy for a ten-year-old,” I said, smiling.
T.J. strummed the strings loudly several times. “I want my mom to be happy. Connor doesn’t make her happy.” He stopped playing again and looked at me. “You make her happy.”
“I don’t know if that’s true, T.J.” I thought about how less than 24 hours ago we had been sitting in this room with her crying her eyes out.
“I’ve gotta go. It’s starting to get dark which means it is prime capture the flag time.”
I helped T.J. put the guitar back in its case. When we were done, T.J. said, “I love the guitar. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I was still kneeling next to where he stood and he turned and threw his arms around me.
It stunned me, almost as much as my body’s natural response to hug him back.
T.J. broke away, anxious to find his friends. I was frozen in that spot, still astounded that I had just hugged my son for the first time.
“You’re a natural,” Emma said.
I hadn’t even heard her enter the room. She expected me to say something back, but I was speechless.
“Ty, are you okay?” Her hand touched my shoulder.
“I’m a father.” Would that ever
“We should probably help your mom with dishes first, right?” It seemed like something a dad would say.
T.J. jumped to his feet and started grabbing the plates. “Fine, but you have to help, too.”
I helped him carry everything to the kitchen while Emma sat back with a smile on her face. Her phone rang as I cleared the last of the dishes and she took the phone into the other room.
“Connor,” T.J. confirmed with a frown.
“Is he really that bad?” I asked, watching Emma through the doorway. She was smiling, though it wasn’t the same smile she gave me.
T.J. grabbed my hand and started pulling me back to the living room. “He’s alright. I just don’t think he likes me as much as he likes my mom.”
“That’s impossible,” I said, completely biased. But I could understand another man being hesitant to take on a woman with a ten-year-old. “Hey, I just remembered- I have a present for you in my car.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Wait here.”
Emma was in the living room with T.J. when I returned. Her face betrayed no clues as to what the call might have been about.
“Is that a guitar?” T.J. asked, eyeing the case I was holding.
I held it up. “Yeah. It was just lying around my house and I remembered that your mom mentioned you wanted to learn how to play.”
“Awesome!”
“I tuned it up. It might be a little big for you, but you’ll grow into it.”
The guitar had been my first one and I hadn’t been much older than T.J. when Emma taught me how to play it. It seemed fitting that it should belong to our son.
I got T.J. settled on the couch and placed it in his lap. He ran his hands over the strings, eyes full of wonder.
“That’s an amazing gift, Tyler,” Emma said.
She remembered the guitar, knew how much it meant to me.
“It was just sitting around collecting dust. It should be played.” I helped T.J. hold it the proper way and showed him how to strum the chords.
“Do you know how to play?” T.J. asked.
“I sure do.” I looked at Emma. “Your mom taught me when I saw just a little older than you.”
“Really?” The surprise with which he looked at Emma told me that she had never played in front of him. That made me sad.
It bothered Emma, too, and she left the room.
T.J. detected something was wrong. “Why haven’t you been around in the past? If you used to be friends with my mom, why haven’t you ever come around?”
“I don’t live in town anymore.” I couldn’t look away from his unwavering stare. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your mom.”
“I think she likes having you around,” T.J. admitted, turning his attention back to the guitar. “She’s been smiling a lot more lately. And I think she’s been avoiding Connor’s calls.”
“You’re pretty nosy for a ten-year-old,” I said, smiling.
T.J. strummed the strings loudly several times. “I want my mom to be happy. Connor doesn’t make her happy.” He stopped playing again and looked at me. “You make her happy.”
“I don’t know if that’s true, T.J.” I thought about how less than 24 hours ago we had been sitting in this room with her crying her eyes out.
“I’ve gotta go. It’s starting to get dark which means it is prime capture the flag time.”
I helped T.J. put the guitar back in its case. When we were done, T.J. said, “I love the guitar. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I was still kneeling next to where he stood and he turned and threw his arms around me.
It stunned me, almost as much as my body’s natural response to hug him back.
T.J. broke away, anxious to find his friends. I was frozen in that spot, still astounded that I had just hugged my son for the first time.
“You’re a natural,” Emma said.
I hadn’t even heard her enter the room. She expected me to say something back, but I was speechless.
“Ty, are you okay?” Her hand touched my shoulder.
“I’m a father.” Would that ever
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