So everything up until this point has been pretty positive, but this chapter is finally introducing some of the less happy thoughts everyone is thinking!
PLEASE READ THE NOTE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER (ONLY ONCE YOU'VE READ THE WHOLE CHAPTER)
"I owe you an apology, Tim." Eric said, taking a long drawl of his beer before setting it down on the window ledge. Tim stood beside him awkwardly, looking out onto the Taylor's backyard, scattered with toys and lawn furniture. He didn't like the way Coach said 'Tim'; he never called him that and now it hung awkwardly in the damp, evening air. It was always 'Riggins', accentuated with a pat on the back or when he was particularly angry with him, he'd pull out the full 'Tim Riggins' or occasionally 'son', which always made Tim feel strange inside, it had been a long time since he'd been someone's son.
"Coach, you've got nothing to apologize to me for." Tim couldn't fathom what Eric Taylor had to be sorry about, especially when it came to him. His State ring, one of his most prized possessions, which lay on his cluttered dresser back in the trailer tucked neatly behind his mother's snow globe, was thanks to this man. Most of his favourite memories, the times when he felt the strongest, like someone believed in him, like maybe he could achieve something were carefully intertwined with Coach Taylor and his sentimental speeches, always delivered in a voice that made the hair on Tim's arms stand on end.
"No, son. The letters. I never wrote you back. I never visited. And for that, I apologize." Eric pressed his lips together tightly, wishing his wife was out here to help him with this. But this was something he had to do on his own; his father had taught him that a man owns up to his mistakes and he only hoped to be half the man his father had been.
"It doesn't matter I…I never expected any…anything –" Tim stammered uncharacteristically, wishing he'd asked for that beer after all.
"Just let me do this. I need to do this and you need to see that you deserve it." Eric cut him off, finally looking over at the young man standing beside him, head bent and hair hiding his eyes.
"I let you down. I once told that if you needed anything you could always turn to me. And I meant it, I really did. But I realize now that I wasn't really willing to help you. Not once it got hard, not once you're problems got complicated and messy and required something more of me. When you most needed me, I was a coward. You didn't ask for much and you didn't ask for anything you weren't entitled to. When you wrote to me, I knew what you needed and although you never asked, I knew I should've come to visit." Eric paused, letting the words out for the first time and feeling the weight of them slide off his shoulders. He'd only told Tami recently, keeping the letters in the drawer of his office, hidden underneath football plays and roster sheets, pushed to the back of his drawer and the back of his mind. He'd let himself think he was too busy. He had to get the East Dillon Lions in shape and Tim Riggins was a grown man who for once in his life was going to have to pay for his actions. But the letters kept coming and they weren't what he expected. The first few were humorous and light-hearted, jokes about the terrible food and lodgings, the shocking discomfort of sleeping two feet away from your exposed toilet. But soon, humor were replaced with darkness, at first satirical stories about the guards, puffed up with a false sense of power and then towards the end, cryptic quotes from books, which Eric assumed Tim must be reading to pass the time. The last letter had been the shortest, a quote written in Tim's scrawl: "But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin." Eric had crumpled that particular letter to the very back of his drawer, not even bothering to fold it and stack it neatly with the others.
"I wasn't in the right state of mind in there, Coach…" Tim said, not sure what else to say, wanting to ease Coach's pain. He had wanted him to visit, he couldn't deny that. Eric Taylor was probably one of the few worthwhile men in his life and he'd disappointed him. Those letters had started as a way to reach out, to tell him that he was sorry for becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy, that he was sorry he'd wasted his time. But halfway through, they'd turned into something else: a way to let it out. It's not that he wasn't in the right state of mind, as he'd told Coach. For the first time in a long time, he didn't have any distractions and he had to think about things, things he didn't want to think about. Everyone always assumed Tim was so often silent because the inner workings of his brain were simple: a cog and a wheel turning constantly, fueled by beer, sex and football. But if anyone had taken the time to really take a look, they'd soon realize it was a big mess of a parts in there and most of the time, he had no idea how to organize his thoughts into anything coherent so he just stayed quiet. In prison, there was too much quiet and too much time to think about things that made him hurt worse than the biggest football hits he could imagine, maybe even hurt worse than watching Jason taken away on a stretcher. Those letters, well, they let him scream. He thought Coach would hear those screams and maybe make sense of them and maybe understand, maybe even help him sort them out. He'd once told Tyra he was 'tired of overthinking things' and she'd laughed, wondering what he could possibly be 'overthinking'. If only she knew, he thought back, but then again that was the problem: no one really knew, not even the people he told, like Coach Taylor.
"Tim, you should be disappointed in me. I know you've probably had so many people let you down in your life that you probably can't even feel disappointment anymore, don't think you're entitled to it anymore. But that doesn't make it right. I promised you I'd help and when all you needed was for me to show up, to say 'yes I heard you and I'm here', I didn't. Not because I didn't understand or because I couldn't, but because I was afraid. I didn't want to face you and all your complications so I stayed away and ignored you, and made it easier for myself. For that I'm sorry." Eric placed his hand on Tim's shoulder, making him look up at him. His eyes shined in the moonlight and he nodded slightly, his face silhouetted by his hair. He reminded him of the Tim Riggins of Dillon Panther fame, not the all-star football player, but the boy who thought it was his fault Jason Street was paralyzed, who re-watched those game tapes in the darkness of the locker room.
"Thank you, Coach." He replied quietly. They stood there like this for a moment, Eric not moving his hand away and Tim frozen to the Taylor's back porch. Minutes passed, neither feeling the need to move.
"We should get back in there before Tami thinks we're trying to escape." Eric said finally breaking the spell and moving towards the door.
"Yeah, for sure." Tim followed him, feeling suddenly relaxed, as if he'd just gotten out of a warm bath, his body soothed. Coach was right, he'd needed that apology, even if he didn't know it nor think he deserved it.
"And Tim? If you ever need anything, you best be sure to come to me. I mean it this time. Anything." Eric said, before making his way back into the house.
/
"So, how is it being back?" Tami asked, offering Lyla a glass of wine, despite her usual stringent rules about underage drinking. She figured Lyla needed to relax and take the edge off a little and Tami was a big supporter of letting wine do its job.
"It's strange. This place is like a weird time capsule. I mean, stuff changes of course since I don't think anyplace can go completely unchanged. People leave and newcomers arrive but the plot stays the same. It's like those daytime soaps where they'll cast a new actor for one of the show's main characters and the story keeps on going, even though this new person looks totally different. They still have the same lines and the same role and everyone just pretends it's the same guy, but really it's not. Pretty soon, you forget the original guy and the assimilation is complete, you know? I guess it feels weird to be back here, since I really thought when I left, I'd left for good." She'd recently gone to a Panther's charity event at the insistence of her father and met a running back that could have been Smash William's clone. The new quarterback, Vince reminded her of Tim, with his shoddy past but also of Jason, with his ambition to be more than just a one-time small town star. The people in this town were archetypes, symbols that remained unchanged even if the faces were different. She felt like she'd never left and part of her wondered what she was doing here, it felt like taking a step backwards. Even Tim, despite her love for him, was her past. She didn't know where any of this fit in with her future or at least the future she'd always pictured.
"I think life is kind of like that everywhere, honey. As much as a place has to change, it still has to stay grounded in some way. The fundamental parts of that soap opera character, of Dillon and even of ourselves needs to have something solid and unwavering to plant its roots in." Tami remembered having these thoughts herself when she was Lyla's age, remembered thinking they were original and part of her own, personal angst. She had to laugh now at how obvious this step was to almost every young woman's transition from the security and routine of childhood to the unpredictable turbulence of adulthood.
"I don't know if I want to plant roots in anything, really. It seems like once you decide to do that, you limit yourself. Why not grow outside of the box, instead of steadily in it?" Lyla hated the thought of fixed boundaries, being stuck to something or some place because it was familiar and felt safe. Her whole life she had worked hard to make something of herself, hoping to use success to get out of Dillon, to travel to amazing places, meet new people and have incredible experiences. Yet, she was back here and despite herself, she was happy. She had tried not to give it much thought, this newfound happiness, since she usually found herself overthinking these kind of thinks and ruining them for herself. But with the newfound difficulties at East Dillon, it was easy to think maybe she should go somewhere else. It nagged at her; maybe her failings at East Dillon was the universes way of telling her that she didn't belong here. Maybe she should use her accomplishments, the long list of scholarships, awards and highly acclaimed job titles she'd secured over the past two years, to move away from here and go to a school that provided real offices with name plates, computers from this decade and kids that appreciated her.
"That box you talk about Lyla, that's something that you make yourself. It's not Dillon that will hold you back, if that's where you choose to plant your roots. I'm living proof of that, I'd like to think." When Tami had first gone back to school, everyone had been shocked at her decision to give up the 'stay at home mom' title. Julie had just started school and didn't need her anymore, Eric was busy as assistant coach of the Panthers at the time and was certainly capable of fixing dinner for himself every once in a while. Going back to get her Masters of Education wasn't something homemakers from Dillon did on an everyday basis and while it definitely got her some disapproving glances at church, it never stopped her. That had been her attitude then and it was the same now; it's what kept her going until she made it to principal of West Dillon and what kept her alive when she reluctantly gave up that job to go back to counselling.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't know Mrs. Taylor. I always pictured myself in some place like New York or Boston, going to art museum openings on the weekend and vacationing in wine country. Helping kids prep their college applications for the Iveys and watching them give valedictorian speeches. I never wanted to be back here." Lyla had pictured herself bonding with these kids while they opened up to her about eating disorders, pressure from parents, sibling conflicts; things she could relate to. But once she'd reached the internship portion of her college program, she'd soon realized that jobs like that didn't go to unconnected small town girls, no matter how many shining reference letters she produced. And, although she didn't want to admit it, jobs like that didn't make her happy. She'd volunteered in some of the private schools near Vanderbilt and found herself profoundly disappointed in her experiences with these kids, whose problems often revolved around being lazy and entitled, things she couldn't fix as much as she tried. Coming to Dillon had been a compromise, one of the few internships she'd been offered and a chance to go home for a bit, to a place and people she thought she understood.
"I can understand the appeal of that kind of place. I mean, it's easier than East Dillon and probably better paid too. You probably don't need to go through metal detectors every morning and your letter opener won't be confiscated as a weapon. But easy isn't always better, Lyla. You can make a difference here. You can change these kid's lives. I know it sounds cheesy and like some sort of after school special that you'd roll your eyes at, but believe me when I say that. Look at Vince and what Eric did for him. Heck, even look at Tyra! That's the thing about this place, it presents you with opportunities. All you have to do is not be afraid to work hard and grab hold of them." Tami watched Lyla carefully, hoping she understood the chance she had here. Lyla looked up and caught Tami's eyes for a moment, but before she could reply, the screen door slid open and Eric, followed closely by Tim, re-entered.
"Besides, I think there's a lot here for you in Dillon to explore. I don't think you're done here just yet, Ms. Garrity." Tami added, following Lyla's gaze as it settled on Tim.
/
"That was nice." Tim stated simply as he sat back in his truck, unaccustomed to the passenger seat. Lyla was driving since Mrs. Coach had broken the rules and let him have a couple of beers. Tim tapped the dashboard restlessly, not sure what to do with his hands without a wheel to occupy them.
"It was nice to see them again. Reminded me of old times a bit, but it was still good." Lyla replied, focused on driving stick, which she hadn't done in years.
"What's wrong with old times? Hell, I thought that was the best part. We were Lyla Garrity, head cheerleader and Tim Riggins, #33 there for a bit. I missed that." Tim didn't understand Lyla's constant desire to run away from who she was back in high school. He liked that version of her, to him she was still that same person but now with a few tweaks thanks to adulthood and experience.
"Don't you think it would be nice to get out of here and not be those people? Go somewhere where no one knows who we used to be?" Lyla asked, feeling tired all of a sudden. Tim would never change. He would always be 'Texas Forever' and #33. That was part of why she loved him: his unwavering constancy. But she didn't think love should hold you back and it seemed like a requirement to loving Tim Riggins was loving Dillon, which wasn't something she was prepared for.
"Seems like you want to go somewhere and play dress up. Tell them you're Madame Lyla Garrity with Royal blood running through your veins and a perfect nuclear family waiting for you in your downtown high rise? I don't get it, Garrity. Why can't you just be happy being you? Isn't it enough that you've got the job you've always wanted, someone who cares about you and a roof over your head?" Tim sighed and rubbed his temples. No one would question that Lyla was smarter than him, but she sure could be an idiot sometimes, he thought.
"No, Tim! I want to go somewhere where I can go into the grocery store and not hear 'Oh, that's the girl who cheated on her paralyzed boyfriend'! Or 'That girl is sleeping with the town convict'! I want to go somewhere where people bother to get to know me instead of thinking they already know everything they need to know when they hear my dad is Buddy Garrity!" She'd been holding this in ever since she got here. She'd been so busy being letting herself relax and just be in love with him that she'd forgotten why they'd ended up so far apart in the first place. She wasn't happy being another character in this town's never-ending story.
"So you're ashamed? Of who you used to be? Of me? You think you're better than this place? Because you're not, Lyla. The past is the past and not all parts of it can be happy and wonderful. Some parts sucked but that's how the story goes. It's a part of you and it got you here and made you who you are. Hell, my story has got much shittier chapters than yours. If you think whispers are bad, try hearing it when they say or rather yell it to your face. But you know what? I'm okay with it all, because it led me to here and to you. I'm happy and that's enough for me." Tim said as they pulled up to the trailer. He got out of the truck, slamming the door behind him. Lyla watched him go, leaning her head on the wheel and wondering how the hell she even got here.
/
The main thing I want to address here is the different directions Tim and Lyla's lives are taking. Tim thought he had everything figured out, but then it fell apart. But he's rebuilding and recovering and learning along the way, which has made him realize who he is and what he wants from life. Meanwhile, Lyla always thought she had things figured out and always thought she could handle anything, even a return to a place like Dillon, that she wanted to leave. But she's still wavering in what she wants and fighting with herself. She had all these big dreams for herself and she still wants to achieve those but she's realizing that she's also really happy with this 'simple' life in this place she never thought she'd be back at. Part of her still doesn't want to accept that this is what she wants, since she's worked so hard to get away and become more than her small town existence. This creates conflict with Tim, who's done finally not lost and has self-reflected enough to know what he wants.
Just wanted to explain that in case it wasn't clear from the chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. This chapter is a little more intense than usual for me, so I'm pretty unsure of it.
