training session, I
hustled home to change for another charity function I had promised
to attend. I went through the motions and got through my
evening.
But on the way home from the benefit gala, I
thought about inviting Charlie to a game. It seemed harmless. We
didn’t have to talk about anything major and we could always watch
the game if we ran out of things to say.
Another month went by, while I gathered the
courage to meet up with Charlie. I remember it was on a random
Thursday in October when I decided I was ready to see my kid.
“Will you call Charlie for me?” I asked as
Donna as we stood in my office, preparing for a meeting.
I had filled her in about him one afternoon
when she’d asked me what was going on.
Her light blue gaze studied me thoughtfully.
“No, Beau. You need to do this.”
“Please, I’ll buy you a Ferrari,” I
pleaded.
“What the hell would I do with a Ferrari?”
she shot back. “Just call your kid.”
Damn it. I was probably the only rich man in
Baltimore who couldn’t bribe his secretary.
I reluctantly picked up my cell phone and put
his number into my contact list from the yellow post-it Marla left
me. I hit send, wondering if I was really going to go through with
this.
It rang three times, but he picked up.
“Yello?”
“Charlie?”
“Yep, that’s me.”
I cleared my throat. “It’s Beau Shepard.”
“Hey, dude. What’s going on?”
“I was calling to see if you’d want to join
me for the Gator home opener this Friday in my box.”
“Are you serious?” There was serious
excitement in his voice.
That made me feel better. “Yeah, I want you
to come see a game.”
“Absolutely. I’ll be there.”
“Do you want me to send a car for you?”
“What? No, man. I got my own wheels. I’m
good.”
“Okay, just tell the ticket agent who you are
when you arrive and they’ll make sure you get to the right
place.”
“Sounds awesome, man. Can’t wait. See you
Friday.”
That went better than I’d hoped for. He
actually sounded majorly excited about watching a game with me.
Friday rolled around and I was seriously
nervous. I had never been in this kind of situation before. I
wanted everything to be perfect. So I made sure Joaquin had stocked
the kitchen with every snack and drink choice possible. I knew
Charlie would probably be a ravenous beast, like any other
twenty-two year old guy.
Ten minutes before the game started, Charlie
showed up. Unlike me, he was relaxed, with a smile on his young
face. I couldn’t believe how much we looked alike.
There was no doubt he was my son. His wild,
curly hair reminded me of mine at that age. We were almost the same
height and he was skinny, like I’d been, waiting to grow meat on
his bones.
Still at some point, I wanted a DNA test done
before I put a trust fund together for him.
“So this is what a luxury box at the
Baltimore arena looks like? This is how the better-half lives?” he
asked, glancing around at the pool table and wall of TV’s. “I like
it.”
“Come on in, Charlie. Would you care for
something to eat?” I asked pointing to the buffet of junk food I
had prepared.
His dark eyes lit up with glee. “Yeah, man.
Those nachos look killer.”
“Help yourself. Want something to drink?”
“Yeah, I could go for a beer.”
“Are you old enough to drink?” I asked.
“I’m legal. Since last year.”
“Wow. You’re really full grown,” I said in an
attempt to understand I had an adult son.
I signaled to Joaquin to pour Charlie a cold
one, but it felt weird to give him a beer. Like I was breaking the
law or being a bad influence.
“Yep, I’m an adult, but I still act like a
kid most of the time,” he volunteered as he shrugged out of his
black leather jacket.
“Enjoy it while it lasts.”
He scoffed. “Like you grew up, dude. I see
you in the paper all the time for all the parties you throw.”
He wasn’t going to cut me any slack. “That’s
different. That’s
hustled home to change for another charity function I had promised
to attend. I went through the motions and got through my
evening.
But on the way home from the benefit gala, I
thought about inviting Charlie to a game. It seemed harmless. We
didn’t have to talk about anything major and we could always watch
the game if we ran out of things to say.
Another month went by, while I gathered the
courage to meet up with Charlie. I remember it was on a random
Thursday in October when I decided I was ready to see my kid.
“Will you call Charlie for me?” I asked as
Donna as we stood in my office, preparing for a meeting.
I had filled her in about him one afternoon
when she’d asked me what was going on.
Her light blue gaze studied me thoughtfully.
“No, Beau. You need to do this.”
“Please, I’ll buy you a Ferrari,” I
pleaded.
“What the hell would I do with a Ferrari?”
she shot back. “Just call your kid.”
Damn it. I was probably the only rich man in
Baltimore who couldn’t bribe his secretary.
I reluctantly picked up my cell phone and put
his number into my contact list from the yellow post-it Marla left
me. I hit send, wondering if I was really going to go through with
this.
It rang three times, but he picked up.
“Yello?”
“Charlie?”
“Yep, that’s me.”
I cleared my throat. “It’s Beau Shepard.”
“Hey, dude. What’s going on?”
“I was calling to see if you’d want to join
me for the Gator home opener this Friday in my box.”
“Are you serious?” There was serious
excitement in his voice.
That made me feel better. “Yeah, I want you
to come see a game.”
“Absolutely. I’ll be there.”
“Do you want me to send a car for you?”
“What? No, man. I got my own wheels. I’m
good.”
“Okay, just tell the ticket agent who you are
when you arrive and they’ll make sure you get to the right
place.”
“Sounds awesome, man. Can’t wait. See you
Friday.”
That went better than I’d hoped for. He
actually sounded majorly excited about watching a game with me.
Friday rolled around and I was seriously
nervous. I had never been in this kind of situation before. I
wanted everything to be perfect. So I made sure Joaquin had stocked
the kitchen with every snack and drink choice possible. I knew
Charlie would probably be a ravenous beast, like any other
twenty-two year old guy.
Ten minutes before the game started, Charlie
showed up. Unlike me, he was relaxed, with a smile on his young
face. I couldn’t believe how much we looked alike.
There was no doubt he was my son. His wild,
curly hair reminded me of mine at that age. We were almost the same
height and he was skinny, like I’d been, waiting to grow meat on
his bones.
Still at some point, I wanted a DNA test done
before I put a trust fund together for him.
“So this is what a luxury box at the
Baltimore arena looks like? This is how the better-half lives?” he
asked, glancing around at the pool table and wall of TV’s. “I like
it.”
“Come on in, Charlie. Would you care for
something to eat?” I asked pointing to the buffet of junk food I
had prepared.
His dark eyes lit up with glee. “Yeah, man.
Those nachos look killer.”
“Help yourself. Want something to drink?”
“Yeah, I could go for a beer.”
“Are you old enough to drink?” I asked.
“I’m legal. Since last year.”
“Wow. You’re really full grown,” I said in an
attempt to understand I had an adult son.
I signaled to Joaquin to pour Charlie a cold
one, but it felt weird to give him a beer. Like I was breaking the
law or being a bad influence.
“Yep, I’m an adult, but I still act like a
kid most of the time,” he volunteered as he shrugged out of his
black leather jacket.
“Enjoy it while it lasts.”
He scoffed. “Like you grew up, dude. I see
you in the paper all the time for all the parties you throw.”
He wasn’t going to cut me any slack. “That’s
different. That’s
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