Second Chances

Chapter 9

“Hey, Cam, how’s it going?” asked Alex.

After trading pleasantries, Alex listened to his son tell him about what was going on in his life. Alex generally spoke to both his son and daughter once or twice a week during the school year. He also kept in touch with his kids via text, which for many teens and twenty-somethings seemed to be the preferred means of communication. Alex had grown to like it, too. He communicated via text with Cameron a tad more than with Charlotte. Cam and Alex had developed a friendly competition with one another, to see who could make the other laugh with obnoxious memes they’d found on Instagram, Facebook, or elsewhere on the World Wide Web. Alex tried to send at least one per day to Cam. Most of them were NSFW, generally quite tasteless, and frequently profanity laden. Somehow, trading memes ranging from silly to obnoxious seemed completely normal in their perhaps slightly less than normal father-son relationship. Alex’s relationship with Charlotte was somewhat more conventional.

“Hey, Dad, do we have plans for Thanksgiving yet?” asked Cam.

“No,” replied Alex, “not that I know of. Are you thinking anything in particular?”

“Well, not specifically, no. But you know my friends Chase and Zeke? I think you’ve met both of them. Well, Chase is from Southern California, and Zeke is from just outside Washington, DC. Since the Thanksgiving break is so short, and since they’ll be heading home for the Christmas holiday just a few weeks later, they’re sticking around Iowa for the holiday. So, I thought I could invite them to stay with us for the Thanksgiving break.”

“Sure, you know it’s fine. Invite them; they’re always welcome.”

“Good, I’m glad you feel that way, since I’ve already invited them.”

Alex rolled his eyes and smiled. “And what would you have done if I’d said no?”

“Well, I just knew that wouldn’t happen.”

“But what if I told you Charlotte had already asked to bring two of her friends home for the weekend?”

“Yeah, like Charlotte has any friends.”

“Funny. I think she’d say the same thing about you. Well, your friends are in luck. Charlotte has not, in fact, asked to bring any friends home for the holiday. Are there any dietary restrictions or allergies I should know about in advance?”

“Good question. I don’t think so, but I’ll ask.”

“Please do. The holiday is coming up pretty quickly, so I guess I need to get my butt in gear and start planning a meal. How about you find out about dietary restrictions and let me know, maybe, mid-week? We’ll also need to discuss sleeping arrangements. It sounds like we’re going to have more bodies than beds, so we’ll have a few more logistics to work out.”

“Crap, Dad, I forgot about who’d be making the Thanksgiving meal…maybe they’d prefer to stay here and eat pop tarts and ramen all weekend.”

“Hey! I know my way around a microwave, thank you very much!” said Alex. He then added, “though, if they like to cook, I wouldn’t mind a little assistance in the kitchen.”

“And when you say, ‘a little assistance,’ Dad, you actually mean having them take care of cooking from start to finish, right?”

“You know me too well. Hey, I’ll buy the food, and I’ll do dishes afterwards. It’s that pesky stuff in the middle I prefer to avoid.”

-----

“Hey, guys. Thanks for playing designated driver again,” Alex said as he opened the door and climbed into the back seat of Rhys’ Honda CRV. “Where do you guys want to grab dinner before we head to The Ranch?”

“We were just discussing that, Alex,” replied Jesse. “What do you think of the Burger Shed down in Altoona?”

“Suits me,” said Alex. “But does it suit the driver? Ultimately, he’s the one who has final say.”

“Burger Shed was my suggestion, Alex,” responded Rhys. “So, yeah, I’m okay with it.”

“And Alex?” said Jesse. “I think they’ve got a pretty good beer selection, too. So, if you want to begin imbibing early, this should be right up your alley.”

“I’d also like to remind you, Alex,” added Rhys as he turned onto the ramp to southbound I-35, “that we’d prefer that there is no repeat of our last outing to The Ranch.”

“What, you didn’t like my musical selection?”

“I think what Rhys is getting at isn’t so much what happened at The Ranch, but what happened immediately afterwards,” Jesse noted.

“I’m sorry, guys, I prefer the pie at Bakers Square too, but that was clear over on the other side of town, and they were closed by the time we were ready to eat pie, anyway.”

“Alex!” cried Rhys. “No, I mean you taking on three punks armed only with profanity!”

“God, you guys are never going to let me live that one down, are you?” asked Alex.

“If that’s what it takes to keep us all from being beaten to death, then, yeah, we’re not going to let you live it down,” replied Rhys. He then added, “Man, you’re incorrigible.”

“You know I am sorry about that, right?”

“Yes, Alex, we know you’re sorry,” said Jesse. “And we’ve forgiven you. We’d like to put it past us, too, but only if you’re sure you can keep calm in the face of adversity.”

“So, is tonight’s musical selection a surprise?” inquired Rhys. Alex was happy for the change of subject.

“Of course, it is,” responded Alex. “What fun would it be if you knew in advance what I’d be singing?”

“No clues?”

“Well, it was a pretty big hit when it was out in the 1990s, so there’s a good chance you’ve actually heard the song.”

“Country?” asked Jesse.

“But of course. And it’s pretty apropos, too, as I’m heading to Los Angeles for work next week.”

“Okay,” said Jesse, looking at Rhys. “It’s a song about California.”

“Or Los Angeles,” countered Rhys.

Jesse and Rhys spent the next few minutes trying to come up with a song about California. Or Los Angeles.

“What about California Dreaming?” asked Jesse.

“Great song. I think that’s one of the best pop songs of all time. But that song is older than me. Remember, the song I’m singing is from the 1990s.”

“There’s a Glen Campbell song about California, I think,” said Rhys. “Is that it?”

“I think you mean Country Boy (You Got Your Feet in LA), so more specifically about Los Angeles. And no, that song is from the 1970s. You’re off by about twenty years.”

“Is it Hotel California?” asked Jesse.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Well, strictly speaking, the Eagles are not considered country, though I guess there is a bit of overlap. But, as the title implies, the song is about a hotel named ‘California,’ not about the state. It’s also from the 1970s, so there’s that, as well. Plus, I never actually said the song had California in the title.”

“Right!” exclaimed Rhys as he maneuvered from I-35 southbound to I-80 eastbound. “You’ve probably never heard of this one, but I’ll ask anyway. Is it Los Angeles is Burning?”

“You mean the song by Bad Religion, I think?”

“I’m impressed. You do know more than country music.”

“You bet, it’s a great song. I’m not a fan of heavy metal, but I do like me some punk every now and again. But to answer your question, no, it is not Los Angeles is Burning. The timing is pretty close. But as we’ve already established, it’s by Bad Religion. Definitely not known for their contributions to country music. And I’ll save you the trouble. It’s not California on My Mind by Wild Light or Walking in LA by Missing Persons, either.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of those songs, Alex,” commented Rhys.

“Me either,” added Jesse.

“Yeah, I guess those are pretty obscure,” Alex conceded. “Here’s another clue. While the song I’m singing is set in California, neither Los Angeles nor California is in the title. The title, in fact, has the name of a state that is not California.”

“Umm, what about California, Here I Come?” asked Jesse.

Laughing, Alex said, “Jesse, that song is not country. It has California, not a state that is not California, in the title. It’s also from, I think, the 1930s. So no, you’re way off.”

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” said Rhys, undeterred. “It’s New York, New York, isn’t it?”

By now, all three were laughing. “You mean the Frank Sinatra song?” replied Alex incredulously. “Oh. My. God! I don’t think that song talks about any place other than, umm, I don’t know, New York, New York? Also, too old, and not country.”

“But,” countered Rhys, “It’s got the name of a state in the title that isn’t California.”

“Meaning to change the subject,” said Alex as Rhys exited I-80, “I was thinking about this on the way home from work this evening. It’s supposed to be really nice weather for early November tomorrow and Sunday. What do you guys think about going for a hike at one of the state parks around here?”

Rhys glanced briefly at Jesse to gauge his reaction before replying to Alex. Jesse appeared to be receptive to the idea. Rhys then said, “Let me respond with a question of my own. I got a new bike at the beginning of the year, and I’ve barely ridden it. And here it is, November already. This might be my last chance before spring to ride it. How about the three of us going for a bike ride?”

Alex nodded as he said, “A bike ride sounds good to me. Jesse?”

Jesse replied, “I don’t have a bike. But you two should go. It does sound like fun.”

“Jesse,” commented Alex, “I have two bikes. Plus, Cam has a bike that he’s not using since he’s at Luther. For that matter, Charlotte also has a bike in our garage that she’s not using right now, either. So, if you want to go, you’ve got your choice of bikes.”

“Why do you have two bikes, Alex?” queried Jesse.

“Well, I had a touring bike. If you’re not familiar, they’ve got narrow tires. Not much wider, really, than a racing bike. I’ve had that bike for, wow, I guess since I was in high school or college. At the time, that was the most popular type of bike. It worked perfectly for me since I generally was riding on city streets back then. Then I got a hybrid bike. Basically, that means wider tires, somewhere between a touring bike and a mountain bike. It’s somewhat better for riding on crushed gravel, and not all trails are paved with asphalt. Cam’s and Charlotte’s bikes are both hybrids as well.”

Rhys turned left on Prairie Crossing NW, then went through the roundabout at the intersection with Bass Pro Drive. As he did so, Jesse said, “Okay, I’m game. Where do you want to go?”

“Well,” said Alex, “how about the Raccoon Valley Trail? I’ve always wanted to try it. It starts in Waukee, so not too far from your place, Rhys.”

“That sounds good to me,” commented Rhys. “I think it’s like, fifty miles long or something. How far do you want to ride?”

As Rhys pulled into the parking lot, Alex responded. “Well, not the whole thing. I, for one, would need to build up to that. That can be a goal for next spring or summer, though. Let’s get a table and start planning. I’m really excited now.”

-----

Ian waved when he saw the three enter the main room at The Ranch. “Well, if it isn’t the three musketeers!”

“Hey, guys!” Matt chimed in. He then added, “You’re right, Ian, we hardly see these three apart anymore!”

The three men greeted Ian, Matt, and Kevin with a mixture of fist bumps and hugs. “So,” Alex asked as he embraced Ian, “are you singing tonight?”

“Yessir!” Ian replied. “The other two, though, have begged off for the evening.”

“Well, the other two musketeers have begged off as well,” said Alex.

“But they always beg off.”

“Very true. Have you checked the evening’s lineup?” Alex asked.

Matt replied. “Yes. Ian is kicking things off tonight. You’re further down the line, about halfway through the list.”

“Good to know. Thank goodness I’m not number one,” Alex responded. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “Rhys or Jesse,” Alex continued as he removed his debit card, “could you get me, umm, a shot of Southern Comfort and a beer? And get yourselves drinks, too.”

Jesse grabbed the debit card and began to head towards the bar when Rhys gave him a dirty look. Realizing immediately what Rhys’s eyes were saying, Jesse leaned over and said to him in return, “I know, Alex managed to pay for dinner again. I have no intention of using Alex’s card. But he doesn’t need to know that, does he?”

“Now, Alex,” Matt continued, “we’re going to be able to let you leave the bar tonight without binding and gagging you, right?” The men laughed at the comment, as well as Alex’s sudden discomfort.

Alex replied, “Which one of the other musketeers blabbed?”

A short while later, Alex had finished his shot and first beer and had begun his second glass. They were all laughing and joking with one another, as well as with a few of the other karaoke regulars sitting at nearby tables. The three musketeers, as they were now called, told the others of their cycling plans for the following day. “You guys are welcome to join us, too,” Jesse said. “Sorry we didn’t give you much warning. We just planned this at dinner tonight.”

Ian, Matt, and Kevin agreed that it sounded fun, especially since this was likely the last warm weekend before winter. However, the three declined the offer. Matt was sure to add, however, that the bike outing might be a good group event for the following summer. “Just give us enough time in the spring to get our cycling legs ready to go.”

Before long, it was Alex’s turn to sing. Everyone wished him well as he stood, then trotted up the steps to the stage. Jesse leaned over and commented to Rhys, “I know he still thinks he needs to be half in the bag, but he seems so much more comfortable getting onstage and singing than he did back in September.”

Alex took the microphone from the stand, then nodded that he was ready to begin. His music started.

Alex had always enjoyed the little story contained in You’re Not in Kansas Anymore. The song tells the story of a Midwestern man who visits a woman in Los Angeles, and how the woman both shows the man some of the sights and provides a few gentle warnings that the big city is very different from the small town where he lives. Though not clear from the song, Alex had always assumed that the man and woman were friends and classmates from high school. After graduation, the woman moves to California while the man remains in Kansas. She finally convinces him to visit and hopes that she can convince him to join her permanently.

Alex waved to acknowledge the crowd’s applause as he returned the microphone to its stand. He then trotted down the stairs and returned to his friends’ table. Recalling the first night he sang at The Ranch, he said, “I’m going to hit the head. I figured I’d better let everyone know first so you don’t send out a search party.”

-----

“Good morning, guys,” Alex said when he pulled into a stall in the parking lot of Rhys’s apartment building. “Jesse, I brought you Cam’s bike. Why don’t we throw your bike on my car, Rhys? My bike carrier will hold three bikes.”

“Wow, Alex. Bike shorts! I guess you’re really into cycling,” exclaimed Jesse.

“Well, I used to bike quite a bit. That was before kids, and the rest of the things that got in the way, you know, like adulting. I’m surprised I can still get into them.”

Once Rhys had added his bike to the carrier on the back of Alex’s car, they went into Rhys’s apartment to fill their water bottles and make a final visit to the bathroom. Moments later, they were on their way to the trailhead. They parked and then took the bikes off the rack.

“Alex, it looks like the tires are flat on both of your bikes,” commented Rhys.

“I may never have been a Boy Scout, but I did come prepared today. I’ve got a little air compressor. Let me plug it into the cigarette lighter, and then start the car back up.” Alex filled up the tires on both his and Cam’s bike, then topped off the air level in the tires on Rhys’s bike as well. Next, Alex had Jesse climb on Cam’s bike to make sure the seat was at a comfortable level. It was, as Jesse and Cameron were both right around five feet ten inches tall. Alex had Jesse take a quick ride around the parking lot to confirm he was comfortable on the bike, since Jesse had admitted it had been several years since he’d last ridden one.

Once they were ready to go, Alex handed Jesse a helmet. As they were donning their helmets, Alex asked Rhys where his helmet was. “I don’t have one.”

Alex shook his head in disapproval. “I’m disappointed in you Rhys.”

“Well, Alex, we’re not riding on the highway, and I don’t plan on falling. Therefore, a helmet isn’t needed.”

“Rhys, let me tell you about a coworker of mine. Jim was really into cycling. He cycled nearly every day when the weather permitted. He had a regular route on a trail near his house. Well, one Saturday, he was out biking, and the freakiest thing happened. A large limb from a tree suddenly broke and fell, landing directly on his head. No one is quite sure how long he lay there, but a couple came upon his body and saw what’d happened. Fortunately, they didn’t move him. The paramedics came and got him to the hospital. Several of his vertebrae had completely been shattered. If he’d been moved, he very likely would’ve been paralyzed. Long story short, he had just gotten a new helmet that cost, I don’t know, like $300 or something. Absolutely worth every penny, though, as he’d most certainly been killed if he didn’t have it on.”

“That is crazy. That must be a once in a billion chance,” replied Rhys. “Now, what do you think the chances are that something like that would happen to not one, but two people you know?”

“Jeez, Rhys! I care about you! I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You’ve got your dad hat on, Alex.”

Alex was beginning to get a little annoyed with Rhys. Jesse sensed Alex’s irritation and stepped in to diffuse the rift. “Rhys, we’ll let it slide this time, but you’re going to need to have a helmet when we ride next year.”

“Thank you, Jesse. Rhys, if you won’t listen to your dad, at least listen to Jesse.”

Rhys rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Yes, Daddy.”

Jesse shot Rhys a dirty look. Rhys had been oblivious to Alex’s annoyance but got the message loud and clear when he saw the dissatisfaction in Jesse’s eyes.

“Okay, which way do you want to go?” asked Alex. “We can go west, through Adel to Redfield. The trail runs parallel and alongside US Highway 6 most of the way. I think it’s about 16 miles one way. Or, we can go north, through Dallas Center up to Minburn. That’s a little shorter, about 12 or 13 miles, I think. We, of course, don’t need to go that far. I picked those points because I probably don’t want to go much further than that. Remember, we’ve still got to ride back, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a bike. Outside the Y, that is.”

“Let me guess,” said Rhys. “You made sure that there’s a restaurant in each town you’ve mentioned, didn’t you?”

“Damn straight.”

The rest of the morning was spent in quiet camaraderie. Minimal talking occurred, as the three were rarely riding abreast of one another. The weather forecast had been accurate; there was a bright, blue sky, minimal wind, and temperatures that gradually warmed from the mid-50s to around 70 by lunchtime. Alex enjoyed the scenery of late autumn in Iowa. Farmers were in the fields harvesting the last of the year’s corn crop. Leaves were a riot of color, with every shade of yellow and orange imaginable, and some reds thrown in for good measure. Warm colors, thought Alex, completely unlike the winter season that was fast approaching. They observed deer on more than one occasion, and even saw a red fox.

They arrived in Minburn about 12:30 PM. After noting the choice of restaurants in the tiny community, they agreed that Mexican sounded good, so they enjoyed a relaxing lunch at Casa Oaxaca. They took time to let their meals settle, visiting with one another for a while in one of the city parks before returning to their bikes for the ride back to Waukee. On the return trip, also completed at a leisurely pace in quiet camaraderie, Alex reflected on the two months since he’d joined the group. He realized he’d packed a fair amount into those eight weeks. New friends. Singing in public. Workout buddies at the Y. All in all, Alex was happy with the changes in his life.

He then realized that he still needed to tell his kids that their dad wasn’t exactly who they thought he was. He’d put off coming out to them through the course of the summer. Once he’d found the bravery to make good on his new life by joining the men’s group, the kids were back at their respective universities. Alex felt his news was not something that should be shared over the telephone. It only seemed right that he tell them when they were all together rather than tell one before the other. Thanksgiving was the first time since before Labor Day that the three would be together at the same time.

Alex had raised his kids to be anything but homophobic. He was sure that Cam and Charlotte would be accepting of him. Even so, he realized that hearing the news that your father is gay is different than hearing that news about a friend. Heck, different than even an aunt or uncle or sibling. So, Alex was still nervous about sharing the news with his two children, and the day he’d be sharing that news was rapidly approaching. He shivered at the thought.

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