The next morning charles awoke to the sounds of the waves crashing against his boat.
“ I feel like shit,” he said to himself.
As he surveyed his place of refuge, last night slowly pieced itself together. The second half of his suit laid lifeless on a fold out chair, he noticed the vows he had written for Sofia hanging hopelessly from his pocket. He continued to notice his cuff links and the rolex his grandfather gave him last night at rehearsal.
“ You are my proudest moment,” Charles heard his grandfather say as he pat him on his back. Even for 73 his grandfather still held it’s athletic frame. His dark cocoa skin gleamed, the dimples from generations encrusted his cheeks. Even for an old man his salt and pepper hair suited him.
“Here.”
His grandfather handed him a navy box wrapped tightly in a sky blue ribbon. On the box it said, “ To my true Son, from your Grandfather.”
As Charles opened the box he felt his heart flood with honor, dignity, and love.
“ The Rolex,” was all he could manage to say. The vintage 1924 Rolex laid perfectly on a small silk pillow. It’s white gold wrist band shined at Charles as it complimented the diamonds surrounding it’s black face. It was worth more than Charles’ house, car, motorcycle, and salary combined. His great great grandfather bought it with his first check. The first document ever to be written in his name. It was the document that started his family, it was the first property owned by the first Charles Grey.
“ I couldn’t have thought of a better time, “ his grandfather said. His grey eyes looked deeply into Charles’.
He had always known his Grandfather to be his father. He raised Charles after his father decided heroin was worth more than time with his son.
Charles rubbed his hands over his head as if he tried to release the flashbacks from last night. Sofia’s face. He had never seen her so hurt, it was as if he had taken her soul from her. He could never face that.
He walked up to his dock to breathe in the fresh air. The seagulls had conveniently nestled themselves in his boat chairs. He looked into the distance as if searching for some type of out. He hadn’t even checked his phone.
Reluctantly he reached his hand into his pocket to face his fate.
“ 57 texts, 42 missed calls, and 36 voicemails,” he said, “ pshh, you’d think I shot Obama.” Before checking the first message Charles grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s that he slept with last night. It was half full.
“ Let the good times roll, “ he sarcastically cheered to the seagulls.
“Charles this is Erika let me know if you need me to call your boys.”
“ Charles it’s your grandfather call me son,” hearing the sound of his grandfather’s voice shattered the last bit of strength and dignity Charles had. Tears flowed from his eyes and welled into puddles along the dock. He swallowed another shot of Jack to temporally ease the pain.
He felt his phone vibrate in his hand, as he looked down at the caller id he was relieved it wasn’t anyone from last night.
“ How did it go?”
“ Better than 9-11, “ he sarcastically replied, “ I’ll see you tonight.”
“ Ok,” the voice replied.
As Charles looked out into the sea he watched his life get carried away by the tide wondering where it would be.
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