'The Lovers' or: What Is Not, But Could Be If

I. Fatherhood and Other Foibles

I’m gonna let y’all in on a secret: I’ve made a lotta mistakes in this life. Most people, they’ll tell you a mistake’s just a chance to learn, but that’s just a buncha bullshit people who don’t know no better like to spout. Mistakes define us, live with us, haunt us, and they ain’t never gonna go away no matter how hard you wish they might. The best you can do is bury ‘em ‘neath a whole fuckin’ mountain of booze, drugs, and fine ass. Better livin’ through numbness. That way, you ain’t got no fears, no regrets. All you’ve got is peace, harmony, and a whole goddang river’s worth of burnt bridges.

It’s easier that way.

There ain’t no pain.

“So,” I asked, tryna think of the right words to say. “How old are you anyways?”

“Nine,” She said, starin’ at me with the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. "Almost ten."

“Huh,” I muttered. “Guess I got ten years worth of birthday presents to make up for...”

She didn’t say nothin’.

“You… uh… you like wrasslin’?” I asked. “Your mama told me you watched me. I wanted you to know… uh… I ain’t really like that, alright? I just play a bad guy on TV.”

“Okay." That was all she said.

Her mother named her Natalie and I never had no say in that. I’d never had say ‘bout nothin’ in her life. We were as good as strangers. She looked more like Cora than she did me, thank god, but she still had my nose.

We were at one of those rinky-dink amusement parks on the outskirts of The Vegas Strip; bumper cars, putt-putt, and carnival games ain't no one can win. Me and Cora’d been talkin’ and she was sayin’ Natalie wanted to meet me and… well, one thing led to another, I reckon. Remember what I said ‘bout mistakes? Cora dropped her off an hour earlier and then went off to run some errands while she was in the city. Suddenly, it was just the two of us, father and daughter, bondin' and skirtin’ ‘round a whole mess of awkward questions. She kept lookin’ at me ‘fore lookin’ away, pickin’ at the hem of her t-shirt; dishwater blonde hair, freckles like a constellation ‘cross her cheeks, a scar just below her left eye with a story I didn’t know. She hadn’t smiled one goddang time.

Sure as shit didn’t feel like she wanted to meet me…

“Why do you dress like that?” She asked.

“Like what?” I said. “Like a cowboy?”

“No,” She said. “Like an asshole.”

“Oh, uh,” I went stumblin’ over my words. “I guess… it’s just… the way I dress? What, it ain’t cool?”

“No,” She said. “It’s not cool.”

“Shit. Call ‘em like you see ‘em, huh?” I muttered. “Alright. I can respect that. Um...”

We was sittin’ at a picnic table with a half-eaten funnel cake ‘tween us. Carnival music echoed in the distance coupled with excited screams and laughter. Families were walkin’ by with mile-wide smiles ‘cross their faces, happy just to spend their time together. Me and Natalie, I had a feelin’ we was both out of our element. I tapped my foot ‘neath the table, tryna think of what to say next. Ten years lost. What could make up for all of that?

“So, you wanna… go play putt-putt or somethin’?” I asked. “Or… like… they got a ferris wheel over there, if you ain’t scared of heights.”

“I’m not scared of heights,” She said. “I wanna ride the Slingshot.”

The Slingshot stood above everything else like a goddang monolith. One look at it was enough to give me heart palpitations. The idea of getting’ catapulted into the fuckin’ air by a pair of half-assed bungee cords weren’t exactly my idea of a good time. Even then, I saw two sad saps strapped to their seats, screamin’ their goddang lungs out like they was on the verge of shittin’ themselves.

“That’s uh… that’s a bit much, ain’t it?” I said.

“No,” She said. “It looks fun. Mom won’t ever ride it. You will, right dad?”

‘Dad’. That word hit my ears like a sledgehammer. Somethin’ got caught in my throat. Hell, I might’ve even started to tear up a little. Ain’t like I ever wanted kids, y’know. Far as I was concerned, they were the worst byproduct of my ramblin’ ways; an occupational hazard for all us dickslingers. True as that might’ve been, hearin’ her call me that made my head spin like I’d been drinkin’ straight whiskey.

That’s when I knew I was a goner.

“Alright,” I said, throwin' up my hands. “Just… lemme go to the bathroom first...”

Halfway to the Slingshot, I dodged into the nearest restroom and tucked myself into one of those family stalls. Felt like the first time I could take a deep breath since I got there… I didn’t have to shit or nothin’, though. Nope. I was in there for another purpose. My right hand went rushin’ into my pocket and pulled out a wadded up bag of coke. My teeth started grindin’ on their own accord ‘fore I loosened up the knot, pulled down the diaper station, and laid out a line right there and then.

One quick snort and… bliss. Sunshine. White light, white heat.

I fought the urge to hoot and holler, pumpin’ my fist in the air in silent revelry. Nothin’ could hurt me. Not the Slingshot, not the perils of fatherhood, not nothin’ or no one. Back outside the bathroom, Natalie was waitin’ for me on a bench, swingin’ her legs while I pranced up with a new smile curlin’ on my lips, a spring in my step, that cocaine confidence shootin’ lightnin’ through my brain.

“Alright, Natatatat! You wanna ride the Slingshot?! Well, let’s fuckin’ ride the Slingshot!” I shouted, pointin’ one finger towards the ride. “You and me, kiddo! Let’s blast off to the goddang moon!”

Natalie stared at me all wide-eyed. I stared back, bouncin’ on my heels. After too much silence, she finally nodded her head. “Okaaaaaay,” She said, standin’ up almost cautiously. “Let’s go.”

Ten minutes later, we was strapped in, starin’ up at the bright blue sky. The toothless hick runnin’ the thing was sayin’ all sorts of shit, but I weren’t listenin’. I was too busy grindin’ my teeth, grinnin’ wide, glancin’ over at my daughter. That still felt weird to say. Even weeks removed from seein’ her for the first time in Cora’s living room, it felt like my brain was still processin’ it. Here she was, flesh and blood, breathin’ through stilted breaths as the seat pulled back and the anticipation took hold.

“Ready, Natalie?” I asked.

“Ready, dad.” She said.

And just like that, the Slingshot sent us shootin’ like a bullet out the chamber of a gun, weightless and screamin’ and revelin’ in the simple act of rekindlin’ a flame that never got the chance to burn.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

II. Family

After the ride, things changed.

We got off that big motherfucker laughin’, adrenaline coursin’ through our veins. Natalie was walkin’ closer to me now. I even had my hand on her shoulder, guidin’ her through the crowd. I was feelin’ a sorta way I ain’t sure I’ve ever felt, some little pang of love mixed with adoration in my chest as I looked down at my daughter and saw her lookin’ back.

That sun was beatin’ down like the fists of God. We agreed to get outta the heat ‘fore either of us had a stroke. I called up a cab and, five minutes later, we were whisked away towards Fremont Street.

I’d been stayin’ in one of the suites at the Golden Nugget; helluva far cry from the ol’ Desert Dreams motel. I texted Cora to let her know where we was headin'. She sent back a smiley face and told me she’d swing by to pick up Nat is a couple hours. With time to kill and a newfound appreciation for each other’s company, Natalie and me ordered up a couple pizzas, flipped on the TV, and started watchin’ some of my old matches. I took another little shot of coke when she weren’t lookin’, just to take the edge off.

When Cora came knockin’ on the door, Natalie had my Intense title hoisted up above her head and was marchin’ ‘round the suite like she’d just won the main event, fakin’ crowd noise with a raspy breath. Had my cowboy hat on top her head. Soon as I opened the door, Natalie came runnin’, my hat fallin’ down over her eyes ‘fore she wrapped her arms ‘round her mama’s waist.

“Well, looks like you two have been having a good time,” Cora said. “She’s not been too much of a handful, Daytona?”

“She’s been a goddang angel,” I told her, leanin’ up ‘gainst the doorframe. “Ain’t that right, Natalie?”

“Mommy! Dad says when PRIME comes to Las Vegas, he’ll get us front row tickets to watch him whoop ass!” Natalie shouted. “He said he’ll even let me meet Uncle Fred and Uncle STRONK and Uncle Harley, but not that peckerwood Ludwig Dot Com!”

“Oh? Did he say that?” Cora asked, raisin’ an eyebrow and lookin’ up at me. “I think we need to talk to your dad about language, sweetie.”

“Hey now, I’m learnin’ on the job here,” I said, givin’ Cora a quick wink. “Cut me some slack, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Cora said. rollin' her eyes. “Well, thanks for doing this for her, Daytona. How about we get you packed up and start heading home, honey?”

“No!” Natalie shouted, not unwrappin’ her arms from ‘round her mama, but still lookin’ up at her with a pout on her face. “I don’t wanna go!”

“Natalie, it’s already getting dark outside and we’ve got a long drive,” Cora said. “Let’s get you out of your dad’s hair.”

“Well, hell,” I said, shruggin’ my shoulders. “Ain’t like I had anything planned tonight. And I got this big ol’ suite all to my lonesome. Y’all could stay, y'know...”

“Yeah!” Natalie shouted again. “Let’s stay!”

“Oh,” Cora said, eyes goin’ all wide. “I mean…”

“C’mon,” I said. “It’ll be fun. We're just watchin’ some of my old matches, tryna get me ready for my next one. Come on in and take a load off. I even got a spare room y’all can sleep in.”

Cora bit at her lower lip, weighin’ her options while Natalie looked up with big, pleadin’. With a surrenderin’ sigh, Cora finally nodded her head. “Okay, okay,” She said. “We’ll stay.”

“Yay!” Natalie started shoutin’, holdin’ up the Intense belt again and nearly topplin’ over ‘fore she ran back off into the suite.

I just smiled and shook my head. “C’mon, Cora. Lemme show you ‘round.”

I could see the wonder in Cora’s eyes as she stepped in; mahogany walls, marble countertops, them big leather sofas. Floor to ceilin’ windows gave a few out at the city and its lights, a spiral staircase leadin’ up to a loft and a pair of private bedrooms. There was even a wet bar down next to the livin’ room, just waitin’ for its purpose to be utilized.

“I know it ain’t much,” I said, offerin’ Cora a quick wink. “But you think this’ll do you for the night?”

“I mean, it’s a little bit rundown,” Cora teased. “But I think this will do just fine.”

While Cora got settled in, I slipped off to the bathroom to get another snort in for shits and giggles. For the first time in a long time, I weren't thinkin' bout Vera or Bambi or any of them other messes in my life. We gathered up on the couch, me on one side and Cora on the other while Natalie sat ‘tween us, eyes gazin’ at the television screen. It was me versus Sage Pontiff back at Tropical Turmoil, the crowd screamin’ like goddang banshees while I ran rabid over that hippie fuck.

“So, wait. Is that guy with the dreadlocks Paddington Ray?” Cora asked.

“Naw, naw,” I said. “That’s Sage Pontiff. I ain’t fought Paxton Ray before.”

“Sage is friends with Paxton, mommy,” Natalie said. “He’s a no good sonuvabit—“

“Language, Natalie.”

“…sonuvabiscuit.”

“So, is that why you’re fighting Paxton then?” Cora asked. “Because you beat up his friend? Sorry, I’m trying to follow.”

“I mean, I guess?” I said. “He's a sonuvabiscuit, just like Natalie said, but hell, just ‘bout everyone in that company is. Reckon he’s been messin’ with my buddy Freddy, but that ain’t got nothin’ to do with me.”

“Daddy, you broke a bottle over his head!” Natalie said. “And you put him in a port-o-potty and carried him out on a forklift!”

"Jesus, did you really do that?" Cora asked.

“That was just me bein’ a good friend!” I said. “I ain’t got nothin’ 'gainst him, but you mess with my buddies? Well, hell, reckon that calls for some comeuppance, don’t it?”

“You talk funny, daddy,” Natalie said, noddin’ her head ‘fore she tucked it up ‘gainst my shoulder.

“So, you fought Paxton’s friend and Paxton fought your friend and now you’re fighting each other just… because?” Cora said. “Is that right?”

“‘Bout sums it up,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m lookin’ forward to gettin’ a few licks in on that peckerwood, but it don’t matter none. He ain’t even gettin’ a title shot! You know why?” ‘Cause he don’t move the needle. He ain't on my level. I’m gonna soften him up for Freddy and go on my merry way.”

“...wrestling is weird.” Cora said.

“Yeah,” I said. “I reckon it is.”

Truth be told, I was lyin’ through my teeth. Paxton weren’t no easy task and I knew that, even if I weren’t ‘bout to say it out loud. It was all ‘cause of the way Natalie looked up at me like I was some sorta superhero. I knew she’d be watchin’ and I was hopin’ that was reason enough to give ol’ Paxton a good asskickin’. I reckon he had a head full-a hornets, vengeance on his mind. Can't blame him none. Disrespect ain't no fun and games.

Didn’t matter, though.

I wasn’t gonna lose.

Not a goddang chance.

I was gonna do it for Natalie.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

III. The Right Kind of Dream

Thirty minutes later, Natalie was sleepin’ with her head ‘gainst my shoulder. I was strokin’ her hair, eyes on the TV, but my mind was a million miles away. I was thinkin' of the future.

Let me say it again: I’ve made a lotta mistakes in this life. That don’t mean there ain’t no chance for redemption though, right? I was gazin’ at a chance to fix things; one where I was there for all of Natalie’s birthdays, where me and Cora bought a little house and settled down after all these years, where the three of us navigated all of life’s uncertainties arm in arm, happy and healthy and whole, a family just a few years late.

It felt like the right kind of dream; what is not, but could be if.

“Natalie…?” Cora asked in a voice just above a whisper. “Natalie, honey. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I got her,” I muttered. "C'mon, Nat."

Even as she mumbled with a mouthful of vowels, I lifted Natalie up from the couch, her arms goin’ ‘round my neck. Cora stood with us and followed me as I carried our daughter up the spiral staircase to the first bedroom. Cora pulled down the sheets ‘fore I laid Natalie down, coverin’ her up and leanin’ to put a kiss ‘gainst her forehead.

“I love you, daddy,” She murmured, eyes closed tight.

“Love you too, Nat,” I said back, lookin’ over at Cora to see little tears formin’ at the corners of her eyes. “Sleep tight. No bed bugs. No bad dreams.”

I flipped the light switch on the way out the door, followin’ Cora back out into the suite and down the stairs. In the living room, I told her to make herself comfortable while I slinked off towards the bathroom. With the door shut, I fished that little bag outta my pocket one more time.

It might as well have been a ritual. I poured a little line of coke out on the bathroom counter and started to lean down to snort it up, but as I did, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Epiphanies, right?

A momentary clarity. An intrusive thought that feels a whole lot like the universe slappin’ you upside the head and knockin’ you off your goddang feet. I looked down at that coke and then I thought ‘bout Natalie sleepin’ upstairs. I thought ‘bout Cora waitin’ for me out in the livin' room. I thought ‘bout that future I was wishin’ for and then I thought ‘bout how that line on the counter was just gonna set flames to all my good intentions.

And then I swept that line of coke into the sink, turned on the faucet, and watched the water wash it all away.

We’ve been here before.

But this time felt different.

This time, there weren’t no voices in my head, tryna convince me otherwise.

This time, there weren’t no aches or pains, feelings of loss.

This time, there was just… peace with it all. Like I’d finally found more important reason to live. Like for the very first time, the world weren’t revolvin’ ‘round little ol’ me.

I tossed that little baggie in the toilet and pulled the handle to flush.

Back out in the livin’ room, I found Cora sittin’ on the sofa, sippin’ on a glass of wine. She looked up at me when I walked in and smiled, but there was somethin’ in her eyes.

“Daytona, I think we need to talk about something,” She said. “Before… before this goes any further.”

“Yeah?” I asked, sittin’ down beside her. “And what’s that, honey?”

“I… wanted to make sure you’re taking this seriously,” She said, bitin’ her lower lip and lookin’ away. “With Natalie, I mean. I’ve… always wanted you to meet her, but... when you left after you found out I was pregnant it… well, it hurt, Daytona. And I don’t want her to get hurt. I don’t want you to get cold feet and fuck off all over again. I don’t want you to break her heart.”

Tears started pourin’ from Cora’s eyes. I put my arm ‘round her shoulder, pullin’ her in close. “Hey, hey,” I said. “Ain’t no need to cry. I ain’t gonna hurt her. I ain’t gonna hurt you neither. I’m… tryna do the right thing here, okay?.”

She leaned in 'gainst me. I reached up and wiped those tears away. The TV was still playin’ one of my matches; me and ol’ Donny versus Rob and Anna. Another one of those mistakes I’ve been talkin’ ‘bout...

“Listen, if I could go back in time and change things, I would,” I told her. “But we still wound up where we’re ‘sposed to be, right? Right here, right now. Just took a longer path to get there is all. I ain’t goin’ nowhere, alright? Whenever I’m in town, I want y’all to be with me. Both of you.”

“...you mean that?” Cora asked, lookin’ up at me and lettin’ our eyes lock.

“I mean it,” I said. “Just give me a chance, alright?”

I started to tilt my head down. My eyes fluttered closed. My lips puckered up as I swooped in to catch Cora in a kiss, but… just ‘fore it happened, she pulled away, shakin’ her head.

“Let's...” She muttered. “Let’s… um… not do that, okay? This isn’t about me and you, Daytona. This is about you and our daughter. Let’s… keep it like that.”

“Oh,” I said, just 'bout gobsmacked. “Okay.”

“I…” Her words trailed off, body already movin’ to stand, some nervous tension in the air ‘tween us. “I’m going to bed, okay? You… um… you’ve got a match to get ready for anyway, right? Got to watch the tapes, all that. Ha. Haha.”

“Oh. Right,” I said. “Gotta… uh… gotta do all that, I reckon.”

“Right,” She said. “So… um… good night, Daytona.”

“… good night, Cora,” I said.

Cora went scurryin’ upstairs. I heard the bedroom door open up then close just as quickly. Sittin’ on the couch, I felt like I’d been walloped over the head by a lethal dose of reality. Lookin’ at the coffee table where Cora’s half-drank glass of wine still sat, I reached over, plucked it up by the stem, and downed the rest in one go.

My head was on fire and every thought was kindlin'.

My phone buzzed nearby. I looked over to see Vera’s name ‘cross the screen.

A text that read: “I miss you. You should call me.”

And just like that, I did as I was told.