The New House

Christopher

I started the truck and backed out of the spot, being mindful of the trailer I was pulling with all of our belongings. “I don’t know what a Texas woman is, but no. I’m moving us down here because I want warmth and fishing and good schools. Minnesota was killing my tired, old bones.”

“You’re forty-four, when did you get old?” he retorted.

“Last year,” I said, leaving it at that.

“We could have just moved to a new house. Starting a new school my junior year is stupid.”

I glanced over at him. “In your case, it was start in a new school or get kicked out of your old one. You get a fresh start here. I’ve checked out the school and the district. It’s a good school. You’ll be able to play baseball in the spring.”

He groaned. “I could have played baseball at my old school.”

“Not with your grades, Olin. This is a chance for you to be the guy I know you are. Those people back in Minnesota, they weren’t your friends. They were bringing you down and you would have ended up in serious trouble if you would have stuck with them.”

“Whatever. You don’t know shit about me.”

“I do know lots of shit about you,” I said, not getting upset about his language. I wasn’t that kind of a parent. I demanded respect, but we were having a conversation. I would deal with it to a point.

“Whatever,” he said and pulled the headphones that had been hanging around his neck over his ears. He had the music up so loud I could hear it. I hated to think what that was doing to his hearing, but if it saved me an argument, I’d worry about it later.

I told myself he was a normal teen doing normal teen stuff, but holy hell, sometimes I wanted to shake the shit out of him. He was stubborn and obstinate and so damn much like me it was like shouting at myself some days.

I felt like I didn’t know him sometimes. I suppose I probably didn’t. I hadn’t been a great father. I had spent more time working, building up my wealth with the intention of retiring early and spending my golden years with my wife. I would never have to worry about paying for Olin’s college or supporting him until he got on his feet.

Now, I was rich and alone. It was a shitty tradeoff. I checked the GPS and felt a shiver of excitement. We were within fifteen minutes of the new house I had purchased and had furnished—all over the phone. My job in real estate gave me a lot of excellent connections. An old friend had hooked me up with a lavish lakefront home that I was hoping like hell impressed Olin.

Not much did, but I had seen the pictures and hoped it would be enough to ease some of the tension and apprehension he felt about starting somewhere new. The houses increased in size the closer we got to our new address.

I pulled into the long driveway that led to the house that had all the lights on, ready for arrival.

“Holy shit,” Olin breathed, taking in the massive home. “This is it? This is the house you bought?”

I grinned. I felt proud as hell that I had managed to impress him. “Yep. Wait until you see the backyard. That’s where the real magic is.”

He gave me a sideways glance. “Whatever.”

“What the hell? I thought you’d be happy to see the place. It has a pool and our own private dock.”

He opened the door of the truck, hopped out, opened the back door, and grabbed his duffel bag before walking up to the front door and waiting. I told myself not to take the mood personally. I had a feeling when he saw the house and the awesome view, he would change his mind.

I opened the front door, unable to stop smiling as I gestured for him to go inside. He walked in, barely taking in the gorgeous home and stomped up the stairs. “Which room is mine?” he snapped.

“Second door on the right,” I answered.

He stomped up the rest of the way turned right and disappeared from my view. I sighed, dropping my small suitcase on the floor and giving myself the grand tour. I grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and headed outside to the expansive patio.

I sipped the beer and strolled around the hot tub that was set up against the pool. I could already see myself enjoying a swim and jumping in the hot tub to warm up on a cool night with a cold beer in my hand.

The beautiful grass lawn extended all the way to the edge of the lake. The dock was covered with iron benches already on it. I was envisioning many spring and summer days down by the dock resting, relaxing, and hopefully doing a little fishing.

I headed back inside, meandering through the four-thousand-square-foot home, popping my head into each of the rooms, except for Olin’s. The door was closed, and I didn’t want to push my luck. Two days being trapped in the truck together had pushed us both to our breaking point.

A little time alone was exactly what we needed. I dropped my suitcase in the huge walk-in closet that would have made Carlie very happy and headed back downstairs. It felt weird to have new everything. Everything from the furniture to the dishes in the kitchen to the towels and linens was new.

I had been serious about starting over. The trailer in the driveway was filled with our clothes and the things we didn’t want to leave behind. The house in Minneapolis was still ours. It still held all our furniture and all the memories of Carlie. I had kept the house because I wasn’t ready to let it go, but I didn’t want to live there anymore.

I couldn’t.

Conroe was where I wanted to be. I needed the sun and fresh air. I needed to be somewhere no one knew my name and nobody knew my story.