Inferno Anthology (51 page)

“Whatever,” Cheyenne huffed. “I would rather go to the mall,
Dad
.”

Cheyenne didn’t grow up with Dana, but she sure as shit had her attitude. It was amazing. It was like I was raising a mini Dana.

We finished breakfast, and after gathering Cheyenne’s things, I drove her home, and she picked
Monsters University
to watch. I was just dozing off when I got a text from Avery.

Avery:
I’m coming over.

Me:
Dude, you know I worked all night and C and I just got home. I’ll just talk to you at the gym later.

Avery:
I’m 2 min away.

I sighed. I really just wanted to sleep. Avery should know better; this damn well better be an emergency, or I was going to kill him.

“Uncle A is on his way, Peanut. When he gets here, I will talk to him for a bit and then come back and watch this with you. Okay?”

Cheyenne was on her cell phone, not watching the movie. Did she do this every Sunday? Kids these days practically had a cell phone in their hand at birth. It was crazy, but at the same time, gave me piece of mind that I could track her down and get ahold of her whenever I wanted or needed.

“He can watch, too, you know.”

“I’ll ask him,” I said, kissing the top of her head and went to answer the front door.

Avery wasn’t two minutes out, more like thirty seconds.
Fucking bastard
.

“This better be important,” I said, greeting my best friend of twenty-six years.

“Dude, calm the fu…” Avery looked over my shoulder. I assumed Cheyenne was behind me, since he almost slipped and cussed in front of her. He regained his response in a whisper, “Seriously, I have some fucking awesome news.”

“If it involves me going back to sleep in the next five minutes, I’m all for it,” I said, grudgingly stepping aside so he could come in.

“What up C.C.?” Avery asked, addressing Cheyenne.

Just a few months ago when Cheyenne started to have Dana’s attitude, Avery gave her the nickname C.C. (Cheyenne Crawford). When Dana and I got married, Avery called her D.C., and Cheyenne loved to be called C.C. by Avery since her mom was D.C. He tried to call me E.C. when we met in the Kindergarten. I remember punching him in the arm and telling him that was stupid. He resorted to E. He had a thing about abbreviating names for some reason. He never called anyone by their real first name.

“Uncle A, want to watch this with us?” Cheyenne asked, pointing to the TV.

“I would love to, but I need to talk to your Daddy. We are going to California!”

“We are?” Cheyenne’s eyes lit up, looking away from her phone.

“We are,” he stated as a matter of fact.

“We are?” I questioned.
What the fuck was he talking about?

“We are,” he said as he winked at Cheyenne and then went to the dining room and sat down.

I followed, not having any other choice.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked, sitting across from him.

Cheyenne was far enough away that she couldn’t hear us talk, and now that he gave Cheyenne hope that we were going to California and possibly getting to see her maternal grandparents, I wanted to kill Avery.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking…”

“This can’t be good,” I said, leaning back in my chair, crossing my arms.

“All the girls that come into the bar really only want one thing.”

“I know, I’ve told you for the past two years that you could be getting laid nightly if you would just follow my lead.”

“You know that isn’t what I want,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Dude, seriously, just have fun
and
look for
the one
that you so desperately want to find.”

“Well, if this plan doesn’t work out, then I will. Okay?”

“What plan?”

“So, like I was saying.” He got up and walked into the kitchen as he spoke. “I was thinking of what I haven’t done to find the future Mrs. Scott. You know I’ve tried the online shit—that didn’t work out too well, and yeah, okay, I see hot chicks at the bar, but they just want to fuck.”

“You think?” I laughed.

Avery returned with a glass of orange juice. He wasn’t a guest, and even though he didn’t live with Cheyenne and me now, he did when we first moved to New York. Avery lived in a townhouse not far from my house and my parents’ house. All three of us were only about a twenty to twenty-five minute drive into the city where our bar was.

Living in New York was very different from California. Long Beach had all the hustle and bustle, but New York was far worse. I traded in my truck for a BMW not long after we moved here. It was much easier driving a car into the city than my pick-up.

“Yes, I know,” Avery stated, taking a sip of his juice.

Since moving to New York, I knew of a few chicks that Avery had met while working and hooked up with, but it wasn’t in our office at the bar…that I knew of. He was looking for his wife, so he would wine and dine these chicks. You know, buy them dinner and shit: date them.

Avery was a decent looking guy, in my opinion. He definitely looked like a Southern California guy. He had shaggy, dirty blond hair, blue eyes and a lean frame. Growing up, we worked out together, played baseball, and while I had a little bulk to me, he was thinner, but all muscle. Women loved him, but he always found crazy chicks.

There was this one chick who he tried to break up with her at her house, but she ran to his car and locked herself in there. Then there was another one who apparently had an iguana that watched them have sex. And he seriously questioned why I wasn’t looking for my next wife? Case in point.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I heard from Bethy that she knows a guy who met his wife on a singles cruise.”

“A what?”

“A cruise that’s only for single people.”

“I know what a singles cruise is, dipshit. It just sounds like a Friday or Saturday at Halo.” I laughed. “A lot cheaper than going on a cruise, too.”

“I know, but this way, I don’t have to buy them dinner, and there will be hundreds to choose from. And dude, this is a cruise. We have money. Won’t that be fun?”

“I guess, but how are we both going to be able to go? Who’s going to manage the bar?”

“I think Bethy would be good, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I guess she would be. How long is the cruise and where are we going?” I asked, yawning.

“Eight days and Mexico.”

“Eight days? You think Bethy can manage the bar without us for eight days, especially two of those days being the busiest days of the week?”

“We can have more than one manager or something. Look, you’re my best friend and we are both single, and I want to go.”

“What about Cheyenne?”

“That’s why I told her that she was going to California. She can stay with Bill and Trish.”

I watched Avery drink the last of his orange juice while I thought about what he was proposing. The longest vacation that I’d had in the last ten years was when I would fly Cheyenne to California in the summer to see her grandparents. I didn’t stay with her. I flew with her to Long Beach on the weekend, flew home, worked and then two weeks later, flew back to Long Beach to pick her up.

“And when is this cruise?” I asked.

“Second week of April—for Spring Break. Fucking Mexico for Spring Break! Can’t you picture all the hot pieces of ass in their bikinis?”

“You need to get laid.”

“That’s the point.”

“I thought the point was to meet
the one
?” I asked, mocking him.

“I’m going to try. If it doesn’t work, I will take your approach. It’s been a long time since I’ve fucked.”

It had been a long time since I had fucked, too. Anessa and I stopped after she gave me head, and I returned to work while she went out and danced with her friends, finally letting loose and removing the stick from up her ass. I didn’t see her the rest of the night. Maybe a ship full of chicks with nowhere to go and on the prowl was a good idea after all.

“You know that it would just be cheaper to fuck a chick you meet at the bar, right?”

“Just let me try this,” he said, crossing his arms. He could go alone on the cruise, but I figured there wasn’t anything I could lose by joining him. “Also, asshole, one day, some chick is going to knock you upside your head. I know you’re not looking for
the one
, but you can’t be single and unhappy forever.”

“I’m not unhappy. I like my life, and I’m doing what’s best for Cheyenne,” I said, leaning back in my chair with my arms crossed over my chest to match him.

“Cheyenne needs a mother figure.”

“Dude, I can’t just bring chicks in here on rotation and hope that one’s
the one
.”

“No, but you can stop being an asshole and start opening your eyes. Dana’s death has nothing to do with your happiness. She wasn’t the one for you. You were getting divorced for Christ’s sake.”

“I know,” I murmured.

“Just think about it. There is always a princess for every asshole. You just need to stop being one and open your heart again.”

“Why do you sound like Dr. Phil right now?” I laughed.

“Fuck you! I just want you to have a good time on the cruise and maybe find
the one,
too.”

“Are you going to see your parents?” I asked.

“Yeah, if we have time. Doubt we will since they live in Santa Barbara now, but I’ll see if they can meet up with us.”

“Alright, let me call Bill. What are the dates again?”

Avery searched on his phone for the dates as I called Bill. I knew he wouldn’t care if I left Cheyenne there for a week. He and Trish wanted to see Cheyenne more than the little they did, which was typically once a year.

Cheyenne was there for a couple of weeks in the summer, and then Bill and Trish came to New York for Christmas. I really did try to let them see Cheyenne as much as possible, but it was hard with the bar.

After speaking with Bill, I handed the phone to Cheyenne and let her talk to her grandparents. When I walked into the living room, she was still on her phone texting or something. My baby was growing up, and before long, I knew I would have to buy a shotgun for when she started dating.

Avery left after I told him that Bill was excited I was bringing Cheyenne to see them. Avery wanted to book the trip before it sold out, and we planned on getting to the bar early the next day to discuss promoting some of our staff to managers and whatnot. I actually had a brief thought that if nothing went wrong while we were gone, then I could possibly start taking vacations.

Cheyenne hung up the phone and asked if she could go play at Courtney’s. I really didn’t have a problem with it since I was on the verge of passing out anyway. I set my phone alarm for six so I could make us dinner and then flung myself on my bed and passed the fuck out.

*~*~*

“Daddy!” I faintly heard Cheyenne yelling from down the hall, waking me up out of my deep sleep. “Daddy, where are you?”

“In my bedroom!” I shouted back.

She found me as she came running down the hall, Courtney following closely behind her. “Courtney was just telling me that…”

“Slow down. Stop talking so fast,” I said, trying to wake up and figure out what the fuck she was saying.

“Courtney was just telling me that she is going to play softball again this year and she wants me to play, too. Can I play, too? Can I? Huh? Can I?”

“Cheyenne, calm down. I thought you didn’t like sports?” I asked, sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Courtney stood in the doorway of my room, watching me.

“No, I told you that I didn’t like
baseball
,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and rolling her eyes.

“You know that softball is like baseball, but just with a bigger ball right?”

“Yes, Dad!”

Cheyenne stood there, her hand on her hip with her blue eyes pleading. I was going to say yes, because I was happy she wanted to play sports. I wasn’t sure if she would be into it. Dana and I both played baseball growing up, so it was natural for her to follow in our footsteps. I couldn’t wait to throw the ball around with her and teach her.

Over the years, I assumed she didn’t like sports, so I didn’t ask her if she wanted to do any of them. She never expressed an interest in much but Barbies, riding her bike and kicking Avery’s ass at Wii bowling.

“Alright, when are sign-ups?”

“Courtney said tomorrow,” she said, looking back at Courtney for confirmation. “She also said I need to get a glove. Can we go get a glove tonight?”

“Tonight?” I asked, looking at the clock next to my king-size bed. “Let me go talk with Courtney’s parents and get all the details first, okay?”

I walked across the street and spoke with Courtney’s parents. Registration was the next day, and after everyone registered, they would place each girl on a team. I wasn’t sure if Cheyenne knew that there was a possibility that she and Courtney wouldn’t be on the same team. But it turned out that Courtney’s dad was actually the coach for the team Lightning, and he assured me that he would make sure they were on the same team.

I thanked him and told him to let me know if he needed an assistant coach. I hadn’t really thought about it, but now that Cheyenne wanted to play softball, I wanted to coach her, too.

Everything was going to work out perfectly. The first practice would be on the Monday after we returned from California, so that gave me plenty of time to get a glove broken in for her.

Brooke

S
pring Break was finally happening! Nicole and I each packed two suitcases plus a carry-on bag for our cruise. In the morning, Jared was driving us to the airport, and then we were off to California to board the ship for eight days. On day four, we would be at our first port. I couldn’t wait to get a tan and Nicole couldn’t wait to meet men.

“Jared,” I called from the bedroom after zipping up my final suitcase. “Jared,” I called again, but there was still no answer. I walked into the living room to see him sitting in his usual spot on the couch, his headphones on, an Xbox controller in his hands and Call of Duty on the TV screen. “Hey!” I said, standing next to him, my hands on my hips.