Forever by Jeff Holmes Page B

share of lead vocals. Betsy and Teal sang backing vocals. Furthermore, Betsy could play a little guitar and saxophone, while Teal played the flute and – oddly enough – the violin, which came out as “fiddle” for Snakebite. Roni even sang backing vocals on a few occasions.
    They played a lot of Eagles, John Denver, Dylan, Skynyrd, Bob Seger, Kansas, The Band, Springsteen, James Taylor and music of that nature. They could play anything from hard rock to country rock and usually put on a great show. But with everyone going in their own directions, it was likely this could be their last chance together.
    “Joanie, Mark and Kevin kind of decided they wanted to do the Rodeo, but they weren’t going to commit to it until they knew you were going to be home,” Donna said.
    “We’re even getting a box for it,” Wayne said.  “We, the Cadys and the McIntyres are getting one together.”
    Wow, Scott thought. “I’m not sure Dad has really ever paid that much attention to the band.”
    Scott had training Thursday and Friday, so the family toured the area during the day, then picked up Scott after 1600 hours. He stayed at the hotel with them Friday night. Saturday, they hit Breckenridge Park for a music festival that everyone but Wayne wanted to see, but he put up with it since Pearl Beer was sponsoring it.
    That night it was dinner and a boat ride on the Riverwalk. Afterward, they returned to the hotel. Donna and the girls were exhausted, but Wayne wasn’t tired just yet.
    “Want to go down and have a beer, son?” he asked Scott.
    Why not, Scott thought to himself. “Sure, Dad.”
    They sat in a booth and ordered a couple of Lone Star 24-ounce draws. For a while it was just small talk, wrestling, Army food, the Rodeo. Then it just came out.
    “You know,” Wayne said, “you’re mother is still mad at me.”
    “Why?” Scott asked.
    “Because when you walked out the door that day and said ‘ask Dad,’ she did and I told her, and well, she’s been mad at me since,” he said.
    “It was my decision,” Scott said, stiffly. “You just gave me the idea.”
    Wayne shifted in his seat. “Are you still mad at me?”
    Scott hadn’t expected his father’s reaction. “It was my decision,” was all he could come up with.
    “I felt you’d skated for months,” Wayne said. “I didn’t want you to think you could just come home and skate there.”
    “That’s just it, Dad,” Scott snapped at him. “I wasn’t going to skate. I wanted to get back into school, any school. But I also needed to feel like I was part of something again. When Connel asked me to come in and help, I felt like that again. But you didn’t want to let me.”
    “I didn’t say that,” Wayne said. “I just thought a few months at the stockyards would have done you some good.”
    “It might have, Dad,” Scott said, staring at his beer, “if it had been my idea. It was yours and it would have meant I wouldn’t have been able to help with wrestling. I needed that right then.”
    Wayne shrugged. “Maybe you did. Do you think this, the Army, was a mistake?”
    Scott stopped short. No one had asked him that question in a while, and while he thought he always knew the answer, he suddenly wasn’t sure.
    Sure, he hated being taken away from everyone and everything he knew and loved. He hated the haircut and the clothes and the people telling him what to do and all of that shit.
    But the Army had also brought him Andy and the guys. It had made him a stronger person in a lot of ways and more independent. And it brought him Roni.
    He had wondered aloud more than once if they would be where they are right now without the Army. If she hadn’t seen his picture, then went flying back to Greeley that night to see Maggie, then wrote that letter, maybe the whole world would be different. Either way, that was something he didn’t want to find out.
    “I don’t know, Dad,” Scott finally said. “A lot has happened, both good and bad. I hate where