He asked me to dance. I said no. He asked again. I said no again.
The third time, he got down on one knee in the middle of the bar and sang the chorus of “Friends in Low Places” at the top of his lungs, completely off-key, while everybody stared.
Ezoic
I danced with him.
We got married a year later. Nathan was born in 2010.
For a while, it was good. Really good. Greg got a job as a mechanic at a garage on Winchester Road. He could fix anything with an engine. He bought a beat-up old Ford Bronco and spent every weekend restoring it in our driveway. He built Nathan a crib with his own hands. He sang to him every night. Badly.
But something came home with him from Iraq. Something he never talked about.
Ezoic
He started drinking. A beer after work. Then three. Then a six-pack. Then whiskey.
