"You look like you managed to keep yourself safe. Unless you got a robot leg under those pants."
"Wouldn't you like to know," I joked. "Gotta buy me a drink first, man." He laughed.
"Seriously. Nothing happened over there?"
"Nothing permanent. But something might happen to you if you don't go back and help your dad."
"Yeah," he sighed. "Listen, how about we go out for drinks tonight. It's been way too long." I agreed. I was close with my family, but Don and I, after high school had ended and we weren't being forced to see each other every day, just did. He had been an athlete, too, and both of us had lost our moms, so we had had that in common but after all these years, our differences didn't matter that much anymore. I let him get back to his work, telling him to just text me when he could meet me.
The bar we went to ended up being fuller that I expected, but then again, it had been a little while since I had been to a bar. It was a pretty popular spot in town, and even though it was a Monday night, there was a moderate crowd. We sat at a booth instead of sitting at the bar so we would be able to talk. We both got beers, Don flirting with the waitress, a cute sandy blonde who blushed every time she passed our booth.
"So, how have you been keeping yourself busy?" I asked him. He was looking past me, checking out our waitress as she walked away.
"Hm? Oh, you know," he said, trying to remember what I had asked him. I had almost forgot how he was always on the lookout for his newest bed warmer. He had a pretty solid yearlong tan, both from working outside and his mom, who had been Sioux Indian. That with his height, body, and the moves he had been practicing since I'd met him meant he was pretty successful with women. "Work. Helping my dad on the ranch. Working my way through this town, one graduating class at a time."
"I thought you'd be done by now," I said.
"Yeah, well, things didn't really work out that way."
"What happened to you playing?"
"I did for a while, but my pops didn't think it was worth it," he said, shrugging. Don had gotten into a Triple A baseball team a while back. He had wanted to work his way up to the pros. The last time we had seen each other, he had still been playing.
"He made you quit?"
"I got sick of his shit. He couldn't shut up about it being a waste of my time."
"But you loved playing. Why didn't you stick it out?"
"Not worth it," he said bitterly. "I was raised for this, you know? It was coming eventually; it was just a matter of when."
"But you don't want it, do you?"
"I'm good at it. I've been doing it my whole life already. Once my dad dies, I'll have to do it, anyway," he said shrugging.
"That sucks. You should still play if it's what you want to do." He shrugged again.
"It's not a big deal. I always knew this was my future. Besides, he sort of had a point."
"How?"
"Working your way up can take years. You basically waste your youth in the minors. It's not even a sure thing."
"He's using you for free labor," I said, drinking my beer. He laughed.
"I live on the land, and all I have to do to get to work is walk out my door," he said, satisfied. I couldn't believe that he was alright with that. There was no problem with that life, but it just didn't make sense to me that he had gotten onto the team, then thrown that away.
We wanted different things, I could respect that. I honestly didn't know what I'd do if I were in his shoes.
"Would you have quit if your dad didn't need you?" I asked.
"I don't know. Maybe. If I hadn't quit then, maybe I'd be doing it now. What about you?"
"What?"
"Your promising future in professional sports," he said, a little sarcastically. "You put down the football and picked up an assault rifle instead." I smirked.
"I didn't quit. I took a sabbatical."