Storyteller

Chapter 6

Faith POV: 

We arrived in Louisiana today, and already dropped off the girls at Betty's house. She's nervous for the trip, and told me to call her if Tim drinks. I don't think he will, but it wouldn't be surprising if he did. 

Tim's currently staring at his menu intently. Unlike him, I've always had a usual meal I get every time at this diner. He always gets something different, and it takes him two billion years to decide. 

"You alright?" I ask, trying to seem like I used to. I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. He cracks a small smile and puts down his menu, averting his focus to me. He nods, and takes a deep breath, looking down at our hands.

"You remember when we used to come here when we were kids?" I ask. We were more like sixteen or seventeen, but we didn't know about the world and how the real world can treat you. That alone gives us the title of kids. He nods again, before laughing. 

"We came up short a few times here." He starts to crack up. We were broke in high school and through college. We always managed to scrape up just enough to pay the prior month's bills and to keep the power on. There were a few powerless nights, but they were rare. He'd always pick up an extra job or two to keep it from happening. 

"I miss that." I say, looking down at his worn hands. He stares at me, with sad eyes. After a moment he nods, and looks over toward the counter. 

"Me too." He spits out. I watch his eyes fall upon the alcohol behind the bar, and quickly shoot back to me. He's tempted, but he won't. He knows better. "I don't know how I got here, honey." He stares down at the table, before slowly looking over at the barstools. 

"It's alright. It'll just take a little work, and you'll be fine." I reassure him, although the task is virtually impossible. He's been drinking like this for over a decade. He looks at me, incredibly doubtful, but he smiles. 

"I remember you were just a skinny little thing. Always cold and never quite warm enough." He reminisces, smiling down at his hands. "I never felt like I told you how beautiful you were enough, you know? I don't think it was until we graduated college that I told you you looked pretty on certain days. Truth is, every time I saw you in high school, I practically peed my pants. You were just stunning." He says, looking up at me with a bright smile that I haven't seen in too long. It leads me to blush. 

"I just find it crazy how much things have changed." I admit, watching him nod without argument. "I never wanted kids, and here we are, parents of three beautiful girls." I smile, thinking about all the good at the moment. "We're luckier than I think we realize." I say, biting my lip. He looks at me and nods again. 

"We are." He agrees. He sits for a moment as a comfortable silence falls between us, and he places his hands on the table. "I'd give... I'd give the world to stop drinking. I'd give anything just short of you or the girls. And I've tried honey... It's just not..." He stops for a second, and looks around the diner. "I guess I take that back. I'd give anything to never hurt you like I have. If that means no drinking, then no drinking. I just can't mentally take seeing you in pain because of me again." He says, making my chest become tight. The silence comes again, until the waitress drops off the check. Tim leaves a twenty, and stands up, reaching out for my hand. I smile, and take it, as he leads me out to the car. 

He gets in, and starts revving up the engine of the truck. I laugh, and place my hand on his. He smiles, before turning to more of a grin. 

"You know what I want to do?" He questions, looking over at me. I shrug, as he starts pulling onto the backroad. "You want to go fast?" He asks, placing his hand on my thigh like he used to. I laugh again, remembering how we found freedom flying down backroads at a hundred miles an hour, blaring the radio with the windows down. I smile, and nod, biting my lip as he starts to accelerate.