The phone was answered on the second ring. It was a woman, and for a minute Everett wondered if he had the wrong number. If he did, it could get complicated. Charles Carson wasn't an unusual name, and there could have been many in the phone book.

“Is Mr. Carson in?” Everett asked in a polite, pleasant voice. Everett could feel his voice shake, but the woman didn't know him well enough to hear it.

“I'm sorry, he's out. He should be back in half an hour.” She readily gave out the information. “Should I give him a message?”

“I…no…uh… I'll call back,” Everett said, and hung up before she could ask him any questions. Everett wondered who the girl was. Wife? Sister? Girlfriend?

He lay on the bed then, turned on the TV, and dozed off. It was eight o'clock when he woke up, and stared at the phone again. He rolled over on the bed and dialed the number. A man answered this time in a strong, clear voice.

“Is Charles Carson in, please?” Everett asked the voice on the other end, and waited breathlessly. He had a feeling this was it, and the prospect of it made him feel dizzy. This was much harder than he had expected. And once he identified himself, then what? Chad might not want to see him. Why would he?

“This is Chad Carson,” the voice corrected. “Who is this?” He sounded mildly suspicious. The use of his full name told him that the caller was a stranger.

“I…uh… mmmm …I know this sounds crazy, and I don't know where to start.” He blurted it out then. “My name is Everett Carson. I'm your father.” There was dead silence at the other end of the phone, as the man who'd answered tried to figure out what had just hit him. Everett could easily imagine the kind of things Chad might say to him, “get lost” being by far the nicest of them. “I'm not sure what to say to you, Chad. I guess I'm sorry is the first thing, although it doesn't cover twenty-seven years. I'm not sure anything could. And if you don't want to talk to me, that's okay. You don't owe me a thing, not even conversation.” The silence continued as Everett wondered if he should continue talking, or hang up discreetly. He decided to wait through a few more seconds of silence, before he gave up completely. It had taken him twenty-seven years to reach out to his son and initiate a reunion. Chad had no idea what was going on and was shocked into silence.

“Where are you?” was all he said, as Everett wondered what he was thinking. This was all pretty scary.

“I'm in Butte.” Everett still said it like a native, although he had lived in other places. He still had the faint accent of Montana.

“You are?” Chad sounded astonished again. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a son here,” Everett said simply. “I haven't seen him in a long time. I don't know if you want to see me, Chad. And I wouldn't blame you if you don't. I've been thinking about doing this for a long time. But I'll do whatever you want. I came to see you, but it's up to you if you want to. If not, I understand. You don't owe me anything. I'm the one who owes you an apology for the last twenty-seven years.” There was silence at the other end, while the son he didn't know digested what he said. “I came to make amends.”

“Are you in AA?” Chad asked cautiously, recognizing the familiar words.

“Yes, I am. Twenty months. It's the best thing I ever did. That's why I'm here.”

“Me too,” Chad said with some hesitation. And then he had an idea. “Do you want to go to a meeting?”

“Yes, I do.” Everett took a deep breath.

“There's one at nine o'clock,” Chad offered. “Where are you staying?”

“The Ramada Inn.”

“I'll pick you up. I drive a black Ford pick-up. I'll honk twice. I'll be there in ten minutes.” In spite of everything, he wanted to see his dad, as much as his father wanted to see him.

Everett threw some cold water on his face, combed his hair, and looked in the mirror. What he saw was a forty-eight-year-old man who'd seen a lot of rough road in his day, and had abandoned his three-year-old son at twenty-one. It was something he wasn't proud of. There were a lot of things that still haunted him, and that was one. He hadn't hurt many people in his life, but the one he had hurt most was his son. There was no way he could make it up to him, or give him back his years without a father, but at least he was here now.

He was standing outside the hotel in jeans and a heavy jacket when Chad pulled up. Everett saw that he was a tall, handsome boy, with blond hair and blue eyes, a powerful build, and the gait of Montana as he got out of his truck and approached. He walked to where Everett stood, looked at him long and hard, and held out his hand to shake his father's. The two men looked into each other's eyes, and Everett had to fight back tears. He didn't want to embarrass this man who was a total stranger to him but looked like a good man, the kind of son any father would have been proud to know and love. They shook hands, and Chad nodded acknowledgment. He was normally a man of few words.

“Thanks for coming to pick me up,” Everett said as he got into his truck, and saw photographs of two little girls and a boy. “Are those your kids?” Everett looked at them in surprise. It had never even occurred to him that Chad would have children of his own. Chad smiled and nodded.

“And another one on the way. They're nice kids.”

“How old are they?”

“Jimmy is seven, Billy's five, and Amanda is three. I thought we'd done it, but then we got a surprise six months ago. Another girl.”

“That's quite a family.” Everett smiled and then laughed. “Holy shit, I've had my son back for five minutes, and I'm already a grandfather, times four. Serves me right, I guess. You got started early,” Everett commented, and this time Chad smiled.

“So did you.”

“A little earlier than planned.” He hesitated for a moment then, afraid to ask, but decided to anyway. “How's your mom?”

“She's okay. She got married again, but she never had any other kids. She's still here.” Everett nodded. He was leery of seeing her again. Their brief adolescent marriage had left a bitter taste in his mouth and probably hers too. They had shared a miserable three years, which finally drove him away. They were the worst possible match he could have imagined, a nightmare right from the beginning. She had threatened to shoot him once with her father's rifle. A month later, Everett walked out. He figured if he didn't, he'd kill her or himself. It had been three years of constant battles. He had started drinking heavily then, and kept at it for twenty-six years.

“What do you do?” Everett asked Chad with interest. He was a strikingly handsome young man, far more so than he himself had been at Chad's age. Chad had a chiseled face and was a rugged man. He was even taller than Everett and had a far more powerful build, as though he worked in the outdoors, or should.

“I'm the assistant foreman at the TBar7 Ranch. It's twenty miles out of town. It's all horses and cattle.” He looked like the perfect cowboy.

“Did you go to college?”

“Junior college. Two years. At night. Mom wanted me to go to law school.” He smiled. “That's not my thing. College was okay, but I'm a hell of a lot happier on a horse than at a desk, although I have to put in a fair amount of desk time now too. I don't like it much. Debbie, my wife, teaches school. Fourth grade. She's a hell of a rider. She's in the rodeo in the summer.” They were the perfect cowboy and wife, and Everett didn't know why, but he sensed that they had a good marriage. He looked like the kind of guy who would. “Did you get married again?” Chad looked at him with curiosity.

“No. I was healed,” he said, and they both laughed. “I've been roaming around the world for all these years, until twenty months ago, when I put myself in rehab and dried up, long overdue. I was too busy and too drunk for all this time for any decent woman to want me. I'm a journalist,” he added, and Chad smiled.

“I know. Mom shows me your pictures sometimes. She always did. You do some pretty cool stuff, mostly wars. You must have been to some interesting places.”

“Yeah, I have.” He realized that he sounded more Montana himself now, talking to the boy. Short sentences, clipped words, and fewer of them. Everything here was spare, just like the rugged terrain. There was an incredible natural beauty to it, and he thought it was interesting that his son had stayed close to home, unlike his father, who had gone as far as he could from his roots. He had no family here now, the little he had were all dead. He had never come back again, except finally, for his son.

They reached the little church then, where the meeting was, and as he followed Chad down the stairs to the basement, he realized how lucky he was to have found him, and that Chad had been willing to see him at all. It could easily have been otherwise. He gave silent thanks to Maggie as he walked into the room. It was only due to her gentle, persistent persuasion that he had come, and he was thrilled now that he had. She had asked him about his son the night they met.

Everett was surprised to see that there were thirty people in the room, mostly men and a few women. He and Chad sat down next to each other on folding chairs. The meeting had just started and followed the familiar format. Everett spoke up when they asked newcomers or visitors to identify themselves. He said that his name was Everett, he was an alcoholic, and had been in recovery for twenty months. Everyone in the room said “Hi, Everett!” and they went on.

He shared that night, and so did Chad. Everett spoke first, and found himself talking about his early drinking, his unhappy shotgun marriage, leaving Montana, and abandoning his son. He said it was the single event in his life he most regretted, that he was there to make amends and clean up the wreckage of the past, if possible, and that he was grateful to be there. Chad sat and looked at his feet while his father spoke. He was wearing well-worn cowboy boots, not unlike his father's. Everett was wearing his favorite pair of black lizard. Chad's were the boots of a working cowboy, splattered with mud, dark brown, and well worn. All the men in the room were wearing cowboy boots and even some of the women. And the men held Stetsons on their laps.

Chad shared that he had been in recovery for eight years, since he got married, which was interesting information for his father. He said he'd had a fight again that day with the foreman, and would have loved to quit his job but couldn't afford to, and that the baby in the spring would put additional pressure on him. He said that sometimes he got scared of all the responsibilities he had. And then he said that he loved his kids anyway, and his wife, and things would probably work out. But he admitted that the new baby locked him even more into his job, and he was resentful about it at times. And then he glanced at his father, and said that it was weird meeting a father he had never known, but he was glad he had come back, even if long overdue.

The two men mingled with the crowd afterward, after the whole group held hands and said the Serenity Prayer. And once the official format of the meeting was over, everyone welcomed Everett, and spoke to Chad. They all knew each other. There were no strangers at the meeting, except Everett. The women had brought coffee and cookies, and one of them was the secretary of the meeting. Everett had liked the shares and said he had thought it was a good meeting. Chad introduced his father to his sponsor, a grizzled-looking old cowboy with a beard and laughing eyes, and his two sponsees, who were about his own age. Chad said he had been a sponsor in AA for almost seven years.

“You've got some time in recovery,” Everett commented when they left. “Thanks for letting me come with you tonight. I needed a meeting.”

“How often do you go?” Chad inquired. He had liked his father's share. It was open and honest and seemed sincere.

“When I'm in L.A., twice a day. Once, when I'm on the road. What about you?”

“Three times a week.”

“That's a heavy load you're carrying with four kids.” He had a lot of respect for him. Somehow he had assumed that Chad had lived in suspended animation for all these years, a child forever, and instead he was a man with a wife and family of his own. In some ways, Everett recognized, he had made more of his life than his father. “What's with the foreman?”

“He's a jerk,” Chad said, looking suddenly young and annoyed. “He rides my ass all the time. He's very old-fashioned, and he runs the ranch the same way he did forty years ago. He's going to retire next year.”

“Think you'll get the job?” Everett asked with fatherly concern, and Chad laughed and turned to look at him as they drove up to the hotel.