Chapter 16: A Mouth Full of Ashes

Sunday March 6
Grace, Brook’s grandmother, had sent me across the street to get Brook. Grace wanted to talk to the two of us after her weekly Sunday family brunch. I’d smelled something yummy coming from Grace’s kitchen, and figured the sooner I got Brook back to Grace’s home, the sooner I could have whatever it was. Plus, her cousins were being pests and flirting with me.

I knocked on the front door, and Ava answered.

“The rumors are true. Young Mr. Dawson is in town and is only now coming to say hello.”

“Actually, your mom sent me to get Brook for brunch,” I said.

“She’s in the kitchen. Come on back and tell me about winning your Oscar,” Ava said.

I followed her and found Brook looking hungover. Cassidy had told me that she and Dare were doing shots last night.

“What’s your dad doing here?” Ava asked Brook as she looked out the kitchen window and saw his car pull into the driveway.

Brook shrugged. It was probably the right call to not get into the middle of her parents’ problems.

Ian didn’t bother to knock. From the expression on Ava’s face, that was a misstep.

“Ava.”

“Ian.”

There was an awkward silence as they both stared at each other. I could see the tension was starting to get to Brook. If I felt it, and I was an innocent bystander, it had to be wearing on her.

“I’m David, and I think you know Brook.”

Hey, I thought we were doing introductions. Brook let out a sigh at my antics. Ian was obviously trying not to smile, but Ava was too wrapped up in her own world to recognize my comedic genius. Last night, I’d been told that my humor was an acquired taste, so I simply chalked up Ava’s reaction to her not having acquired any.

“I’m taking David across the street for brunch,” Brook announced and grabbed my hand.

She must have heard what I told Ava when I came in. I dutifully followed my ex out the back door. We made it three steps before we could hear the raised voices.

After we had brunch with Grace, she asked us to accompany her to her study for a chat.

“David said you wanted to talk to us. I’ve been puzzling over what about,” Brook said.

“I wanted to start planning the wedding,” Grace said with a straight face.

Give her full props because I was taken aback at first. Then Brook began to laugh at me. I hadn’t realized that Grace was such a prankster.

“You two think you’re so funny,” I said, red-faced.

“So, what’s this really about?” Brook asked.

“This is basically a talk about what you want to be when you grow up, and the best way to get there from an education perspective.”

I’d been prepared for this, so I was okay with it. Brook, not so much.

“I already know what I want to do. Get my degree in public policy, go to law school, and eventually run for office. I had been thinking about political science, but I’ve concluded public policy is a better choice,” Brook shared.

Grace and Brook looked at me.

“Well, that’s the question. I’m sort of keeping my options open.”

“What he means is that he’s been kicking that can down the road until he’s forced to make a decision,” Brook said.

“Is that true?”

I just shrugged.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re the same guy who told me about the life goals he uses to help him with his decision-making. That guy has no idea what he wants to do?” Grace asked.

“When he was a kid, he wanted to be a Canadian Mountie and ride a horse. He knew it would be boring, so he planned to ride around with nitroglycerin in his pockets,” Brook said, totally throwing me under the bus.

If she weren’t careful, I would share some stuff with her grandmother that I was sure she never wanted to see the light of day. I decided to use my Jedi mind powers on her and put my fingers on my temples.

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” I said, and Brook smirked.

“What is that about?” Grace asked.

“He’s warning me that he’s about to start sharing some of my secrets if I keep it up,” Brook said.

“Please do,” Grace suggested.

“These aren’t the droids I am looking for,” Brook said like she was in a trance.

“This is an example of what we talked about yesterday,” Grace said with a smile.

“What do you mean?” Brook asked.

“Your grandmother said I shouldn’t try to be funny.”

“That’s about all he has going for him. I mean, seriously. He’s socially awkward, has unfortunate looks, and had to pay me to go out with him,” Brook said.

“I think you’re talking about that guy you went out with last weekend,” Grace said to become my hero.

“Grandma!”

“Just stop, you two,” Grace said to end our banter.

I’d missed Brook’s sense of humor.

“This,” Grace continued while pointing at the both of us, “is why I know you two will do things together in the future. Even if it’s only as friends.”

Brook and I glanced at each other to communicate that we agreed with her assessment.

“The reason I wanted to talk to you two is that I see a lot of potential in both of you. David, have you decided on where you plan to go to school yet?” Grace asked.

“It’s down to either Oklahoma or USC, along with skipping college and entering the baseball draft as a long-shot third option.”

“I didn’t know you were thinking about skipping school. I believe that would be a mistake,” Brook said.

“It depends on how high I would go in the draft,” I explained. That didn’t seem to work, so I added, “I have to think about my family.”

“He’s just hardheaded,” Brook decided. “David secretly loves the idea of being the best, and this would just be one more validation of his supremacy. His mother would never let him not go to college, no matter how much money baseball threw at him.”

When she said it that way, it gave rise to two thoughts. First, my mother did not run my life; it was simply easier to go along with what she told me to do. Second, I realized Brook was probably right. My competitive side wanted to shine. Someday, I might play baseball. For now, I just wanted to go to college and not have to enter the ‘real’ world too soon.

“I know that you will need to consider football, but it’s a no-brainer, education-wise. You would be much better served by going to USC,” Grace said.

My mom had left me an article from U.S. News that ranked universities based on the quality of education. USC was in the top 25, while Oklahoma hadn’t even made the list. They only rated the top 300. Northwestern, Stanford, and Notre Dame all ranked ahead of USC, with Michigan close behind it. Georgia and State were in the top 50, with Clemson just outside that. Alabama was in the 125 range, according to the article.

“My mom made sure I was aware of which was the better school to get an education. But you’re right. Football will play a big part, along with how I feel I’ll fit in on campus. Oklahoma has a lot to offer, in both regards.”

“You took several AP courses. How did you score on your AP exams?” Grace asked me.

“I scored all fives.”

At the end of an Advanced Placement class, you had to take a standardized test called an AP exam. They scored them on a one-to-five scale, five being the highest. Most universities required you to get at least a three for your course to count.

How universities handled the courses varied. Some would simply allow you to take the next course in their curriculum. For example, if you received the necessary score in economics, they would allow you to skip to the next course. But you didn’t receive credit for the AP course towards graduation. If you needed X number of hours for a degree, the university made you take an additional class to make up for the one you skipped.

Other universities would give you the credit hours for the basic course that would count toward graduation. I’d accumulated enough AP credits to be considered a sophomore when I entered college, if the school I chose allowed both. Oklahoma worked on a sliding scale. If your score was a three, you might or might not get any credits. But for a class like calculus, if I scored a four or five, it would count as two math classes. USC only accepted scores of four or better, and each score only counted for one course.

Grace looked me directly in the eyes to make sure she had my full attention. I sensed Brook squirm next to me. My guess was she’d been under this scrutiny before. If I hadn’t known that Grace was in my corner, I might have been nervous.

“You need to get your head out of your butt and decide what you’re going to do in college. If I have it figured right, you will need to start your major classes when you start college because you’ll have gotten credits for most of the basic requirements. Am I correct in that assumption?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Given that advice is free and you don’t have to take it, would you want my advice on what you should do?” Grace asked.

I nodded. That was why I was here.

“I suggest you do a 3/2 program and get your BA/MBA at the same school. In your case, that could actually be a 2/2 program if you took a serious load during summer school. My recommendation is that you minor in marketing or marketing management,” Grace said.

“I was toying with the idea of getting my law degree after my undergraduate,” I said.

“I really don’t see the need. I see you hiring lawyers when they’re required,” Grace said and then smiled. “Look, you’re too nice a guy to be a lawyer. You have a lot of advantages most young lawyers don’t. You have the resources and connections to make a go of it. But consider what a lawyer does. He helps people either protect their butts or go after other people’s butts. After a while, it wears on you, and you may often be compelled to do something that creates bad karma. You can only crawl in the mud so many times before it sticks to you.”

“My thought was maybe to use it for politics,” I admitted.

The job of a lawyer never really appealed to me. I think I liked the sound of it more than I really wanted to be one.

“The last thing we need is another lawyer-politician,” Grace said.

I smiled because that made sense to me, and that was what Brook had said she wanted to do.

“Now do Brook,” I said.

“What did I do to you?” Brook complained.

“You said I was socially awkward and had unfortunate looks. Besides, I would like to hear your grandmother’s take on your college plans.”

“Fine.”

“I had my staff do a little research. Did you know that no current sitting governor has a public policy major?” Grace asked. “In fact, if you’re planning on running for office, the data supports a political science major. More sitting governors have that undergraduate degree than any other.”

“Interesting,” I said, sitting forward to watch the show.

“You stay out of this,” Brook warned me.

“Would you agree that your primary focus is on the politics and the people side of government?” Grace asked.

Brook nodded her assent.

“I think that getting a political science degree is the old-school approach. And, if you should choose to practice law, it won’t be of any help to you. If your focus is on politics and people, then sociology and history are two majors I suggest you consider,” Grace said.

“Why those? I’m not interested in social work.” Brook asked.

“Sociology, not social work. Sociology is the study of the development, structure, and functioning of human society, and sometimes the study of social problems.

“As for history, it’s something you might consider for at least three reasons I can see. First, it may be where your particular intellectual strengths lie. Economics might be another option for you, but my impression is that the field doesn’t play to your strengths.

“If I’m wrong, then it would be worth consideration, especially if you approached it from a historical perspective. The fact is that a lot of different government policies will work well enough for the country to function. The hard part is lining up people behind any one set of policies and getting them enacted and implemented, instead of legislators and executives just dithering.”

Warming to her response, Grace continued.

“A second reason is that exploring history, when done in conjunction with more focused graduate work on the political or policy side, would make you more well-rounded. It would also give some depth to your work in the political field.”

“A final reason is personal to me, but one I feel strongly about. I really do believe that those who do not know history are condemned to repeat it. Their historical illiteracy is usually combined with arrogance and not thinking through the consequences of their actions. For example, I shudder when I realize how much in common our decision to invade Iraq had with the Bay of Pigs decision. And how much our strategy of occupation resembled the strategy used in the Vietnam War. Iraq cost this country and its people how many trillions of dollars, and how many lives? And for what result?”

I wasn’t sure what I thought about that since both Vietnam and Cuba happened before I was born. Maybe learning history wasn’t all bad. For that matter, the reason we went to war in Iraq also occurred when I was in diapers.

“That makes sense,” Brook said.

“I would also strongly suggest that you pursue an internship with either a senator or a congressman. You might even consider a year-long internship, which with your AP credits, you can do and still graduate with your class. I might be able to help you get one.

“After you get your undergraduate degree, I recommend you consider getting your Master’s in either Economics, Business, or International Relations. I have some ins with the folks at the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard and the Fletcher School at Tufts who may be able to help. It’s very prestigious,” Grace said.

“Princeton and Harvard?” I asked.

They both ignored me.

“If I go the internship route, I’d really rather do it on my own merit,” Brook began, only to be brought up short by Grace’s swiftly raised hand.

“Brook, you have always impressed me with your intelligence and common sense, so I’ll ask you to listen a bit more and use them both now. Do you honestly believe anyone having a congressional or senate internship in Washington got it purely on their own merit, simply by mailing in a résumé? Think about this Chinese saying: ‘The smart man knows everything. The shrewd man knows everyone.’”

“If I were to recommend you to someone in DC, they would know that I personally believe you have what it takes. They will be placing their trust in what they know of me. You would then be in an entry-level situation where they could observe you and draw their own conclusions from that point on. That’s the way it works in Sodom-on-the-Potomac.”

Grace shook herself slightly and continued.

“Once you graduate, you have another set of options. People with an MA in either IR or Economics often wind up in administrative positions in the international or national sectors. Or they work for think tanks, work for politicians, or they work on campaigns,” Grace continued. “Some of those positions can be quite influential, and those careers can be quite satisfying, personally.”

“You would be good at managing a campaign or running for office yourself,” I said and suddenly had an inspired thought. “I could see you talking about politics on TV.”

“As a reporter?” Brook asked.

“No. As an expert, the person the reporter asks to explain it to them and their audience.”

“Really?” Brook asked.

“Think about it,” I suggested. “The camera would love you.”

“I could see that,” Grace agreed. “You’re photogenic and articulate, and you’re both smart and level-headed. Far more level-headed than most of my grandkids.”

“Someone is buttering you up to come work for her,” I faux-whispered to Brook.

“I would love to have her work for me,” Grace admitted, and then smiled at me. “I would love for you to, as well.”

Damn, did she look predatory just then, but I fired back.

“I know. Brook and I could get married and take over your vast empire.”

“I would need someone to rub my feet when I got home,” Brook teased.

Sounded like I was relegated to being a kept man. Grace was a smart woman; she didn’t say a word. She just got up, smiled, and left us alone.

“I expect your grandmother would be happy if that happened,” I said half-seriously.

“David, I doubt that’s in the cards. We need to move on and not hang on to what we had. I will always love our time together, but we both need to live our lives,” Brook said.

Suddenly, I had a mouth full of ashes. I’d made the mistake of mentally falling back into having Brook at my side. I just nodded and started to get up.

“David, don’t be like that. I don’t want you mad at me,” Brook pleaded.

“I’m not mad,” I said and left the room to go pack.

When I got back to my room, Dare was still in bed.

“Get up and take a shower. You stink,” I said.

“I don’t feel good.”

“Dare, if you don’t get moving, I will leave you here, and you’ll have to take a bus home.”

I’d figured out that Dare had hung out with me after school because he’d had bad experiences riding the bus home at his former school. He’d talked Cassidy into giving him rides home this semester, which she gladly did because it meant driving my Dodge Demon. The bus comment was enough to get his skinny derrière moving.

When we got downstairs, everyone was loading into the van that would take us to the airport. Brook was talking to Dare and Cassidy. I tossed my bag into the back and got in on the far side of the van. I didn’t feel like talking to Brook right now.

“Everybody out,” Brook said and then pulled the far sliding door shut.

Grace’s driver, Fritz, and Dr. Rossetti got out, so it was just the two of us.

“You’re not leaving here mad at me.”

“I said that I’m not mad.”

“Then, what are you doing?” Brook asked.

“Respecting your wishes. You live your life, and I’ll get on with mine. I’m sure we’ll both be much happier,” I said.
“See? You’re mad.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

I took a deep breath and then sighed.

“What did Tami teach you about me being mad?” I asked.

“To leave you alone because you get over it quickly.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Okay, I’ll stop pushing,” Brook said and then got out of the van.

“You look like you need a hug ... ow!” Dare said.

Cassidy had grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and directed him away from my ex. The little shit was about to get on my last nerve. In some ways, Dare reminded me of one of my kids at their brattiest. One minute you were sure all you needed for your life to be fulfilled was this tiny version of yourself; the next, you completely understood why parents murdered their children. Dare might not make it home.

When we got to the airport, I discovered that Cassidy was flying us back. I was okay with that because it was a good way for her to log flight time, and I frankly was not in the right frame of mind. It seems she had arranged for all our baggage to be shipped home so that she could keep the weight and balance within range.

I did focus long enough to double-check her preflight checklist and waited until we were in the air before I let my mind wander.

This weekend had been interesting. I’d found another mentor in Grace, who’d helped me realize some things that had been staring me in the face. The first was that baseball wasn’t really in the cards right now. It wasn’t like I couldn’t make a sunglasses advertisement and earn probably more money than I would playing ball. Nevertheless, even though the chance for a baseball career was only a slim one, I still didn’t want to officially close that door.

My dad was big on saying that you should never burn any bridges. At the very least, the contacts I made with scouts now might pay off later when I was ready for whatever I planned to do after college. Plus, I’d never said I planned to play ball. I’d only said I wanted to explore my options.

The second revelation was that I didn’t need to be so black-and-white about my businesses. I didn’t have to be immersed in the daily decisions, but on the other hand, I didn’t need to completely relinquish all responsibility. I could still be involved at a high-enough level that I could keep my finger on the pulse. At the same time, it was important not to step on my dad’s or Scarlet’s toes. It would be good practice to spend time now working out the right level of involvement I should have, so I would make that a priority.

Next, I wanted to talk to Frank about my image. Grace was right. I should follow the Tom Brady roadmap and let people see that I really am, deep down, a family man. The best part of this decision for me was that it involved no deception. All I would be doing would be to make visible a reality that I’d kept somewhat hidden.

I knew I’d kept it hidden to this point because I wanted both myself and my family to be as normal as possible. But people whose judgment I valued quite highly had helped me see that it was time for me to start embracing who I was. Part of that was letting others see the real me. I would leave it mainly to Frank to help figure out how to do that.

I’d also realized I was tired of football recruiting. I decided to pick a school by next week. As of that moment, it was a coin flip.

Some aspects of my celebrity status also needed to be addressed. There were two that stood out. The first was that it was costing the community money. The other was that everyone was afraid I would do something to attract even more attention. That would, in turn, draw more people to show up for events than could safely be handled. We’d been playing it by ear to this point, and I wanted more in control over that. I would sit down with my dad and grandmother and get their take on it. I might also have some ideas. Vice Principal Palm almost certainly wouldn’t like them, but hey, you only live once.

“Jacob Jeffrey Dawson!”

Coby froze. He was just about to launch himself out of his high chair when I walked into the kitchen. Mom grabbed him before he made good his escape. My son picked that moment to have a meltdown, so Mom handed him to me.

My baby whisperer superpowers must have left me because he wasn’t having any of it. I agreed. Today hadn’t been the best day for me, either. Both Little David and Duke looked concerned, and I could see they were moments away from joining Coby in his hysterics. I turned around and took my son to my apartment before we had a bigger mess on our hands.

When I got upstairs, I lay down on the couch with my little escape artist on my chest. I’d guessed right; he was tired. It didn’t take long for both of us to fall asleep.

Worst father ever! I woke to find my son missing.

At that moment, my imagination jumped into overdrive. I leaped up and ran for the stairs with images of Coby’s lifeless body by the back door. Someone had forgotten to close the baby gate. When he wasn’t there, I decided that we wouldn’t point any fingers at whoever had forgotten to secure Coby’s safety and ran to my bedroom.

I was both irritated and relieved to find him sound asleep in the middle of the floor. The irritation was because he’d been in my closet, and everything within his reach was pulled out. I wasn’t happy when I found my oxblood-red tennis shoes had had their laces gnawed on. The shoestrings would have to be replaced.

I picked him up, put him in the center of my bed, and began to clean the mess up. It was actually impressive how much mischief he was able to get into in such a short time.

I heard the back door open, and my hound bounded up the stairs.

“David?” Pam called.

“In the bedroom.”

My hound was happy to find me sitting on the floor, folding clothes. He wiggled into my lap so he could receive the loving he’d missed when I got home. Pam came into the bedroom and smiled as she watched Duke try to lick my face off.