What books have most influenced your life?
I don’t read. It’s boring.
If you could apologize to someone in your past, who would it be?
My wife. I’ve come to realize that I railroaded her, disregarded her feelings, and made her feel unloved. I didn’t mean to. Now it’s too late.
Who should play you in a film?
Sean Penn or some other volatile Hollywood type.
What would we find under your bed?
Wadded up toilet paper.
What one word best describes you?
That’s two words.
(Glenn snaps, seriously, catching me off guard.) Can’t I answer your question to me how I want? Does it really have to be your way? Is that fair?
(bites tongue, thinks to self, *Charming*.) What is something people would be surprised to know about you?
I have feelings too. People have told me that I come across like an uncaring person. I do care. (A grimace of emotional pain washed over Glenn as he answered almost in tears.)
Do you have a favorite quote, quip, or saying? What is it?
Yes. “Who cares?”
Is there a piece of advice that you have received that has really stuck with you? If so, what was it?
Yes. Never give up.
Well, it appears we're out of time. Thanks for coming.
Camryn Johnson’s world is turned upside down when long lost love, Reese Dahlgren, re-enters her life at a pivotal point in her already challenging marriage. She faces an excruciating predicament: choose between a broken home for her daughter or a broken life for herself.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but, when are you going home?” Mr. Dahlgren asked. Reese and I smiled at each other, slightly embarrassed.
“Reese goes back on Sunday. I’ll take him to the airport for you,” I said, expressing the favor.
“Oh, Reese needs a ride?” He said in a deadpan drawl. “I thought he might walk. That’s what those service boys do, right? Walk a lot? Hut two three four.”
Reese wasn’t amused.
“You’re drunk again! No wonder mom left you!” Reese shouted. He took a whiff of Mr. Dahlgren’s drink, a cup from Subway, then poured it down the sink.
“Wha’d ya go and waste a good rum and Coke for?”
“You’re the waste!” Reese left me and his dad in the kitchen and ran upstairs. I looked at the stairway, then looked at Mr. Dahlgren, not sure if I should leave the drunk man alone or run to comfort Reese.
Mr. Dahlgren made my decision for me, waving me away. “Git.”
Reese was lying face down on his bed, his head buried in the pillow. I crept in. Instinctively, I touched his shoulders as I sat next to him, quiet, not sure what to say.
“I wish you wouldn’t have seen that.” He sniffed away some tears.
“I didn’t know . . .”
“Nobody knows. I didn’t want you to know.”
“What are people going to think of me? Son of a drunk.”
“But you’re not like that. You’re not like him.”
Reese continued. “It’s one of the reasons I wanted to leave this place, get out of this town, so I wouldn’t have to deal with him. I’m sorry you saw me angry. You don’t want to see me angry.”
“You had a right to feel that way,” I said, trying my best to be supportive. “It’s okay.” Alcoholism wasn’t something I was intimate with. We held each other, the only answer we knew.
Mr. Dahlgren, stumbling up the stairs, broke the sound of silence. He uttered, “Aw, shit.” A tumbling noise and a thud suggested he missed a step and fell back down. We heard him drag himself back up the stairs. His bedroom door clicked shut. Muffled sounds of a flop on his bed followed. The bedsprings squeaked, and then nothing.
C.R. Everett was born in Northern Illinois and has lived in various places over the years, currently residing in Utah. For twenty years she worked in finance, but today devotes her time to writing. She lives with her husband, two kids, Shiba Inu, and cat. When not writing, she updates her website, connects with her readers, does the mom thing, or cleans up after unruly pets. In her free time she enjoys reading, usually at the gym while on a treadmill, baking, taking walks, enjoying nature, and going to Starbucks. Mocha is her favorite.