Anger tremors deep within me. The lone outward sign is the grim lift of my lips. “You’ve had me followed.”
“You’re my son and you left home. What did you expect me to do?”
“You kicked me out and I expected you to come after me. Not let me live in a car for two weeks.” The words slip out and I shift, immediately wishing I could take them back.
As a child I wondered if Dad’s hands were a crystal ball with all the answers because of the way he’d lose himself in them when I stood in the middle of this room waiting for whatever punishment for my crimes. I know now there’s no magic—just staring.
“I wanted you to ask me to return home,” he finally says.
“Wouldn’t have happened.” I would have lived in a car forever rather than crawl to him.
“I know,” he mumbles, then clears his throat. “And I don’t think you would have returned home even if I had come after you. I hated using your mother as the excuse to force you back, but I didn’t think you’d come home any other way. It was obvious when you didn’t return that weekend that you were set on proving something and I know how you are when you get determined.”
If he had asked me... No, if he had begged, I would have come home, but begging isn’t his style and crawling isn’t mine. Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe I was set on proving something.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” Dad asks.
“A failure? A loser? A disappointment?” If I say it first, it steals the sting from his words.
“Me.” Dad unbuttons the top of his shirt. “Every time I look at you, I see me and it’s a mirror I don’t like looking into.”
Jesus Christ. I lean forward and scrub my face with my hands. For years we’ve torn each other down. That’s how we communicate—in glares and words of hate. How the f**k am I supposed to respond to this? My head spins as if I’ve been knocked around.
“You remind me of myself,” he says. “Especially at your age. I thought your grandfather was going to kick me out before I graduated from high school.”
Neither he nor his parents have mentioned this before. Dad, in my head, has always been excruciatingly perfect. “What stopped him from doing it?”
“Your grandmother.” His eyes become distant and so does the grin on his face. “Just like your mother would have stopped me if she wasn’t involved with Rachel at the time. She’s still mad at me—for kicking you out.”
I massage my neck. The muscles tighten there, creating the sensation of choking. “You messed up? When you were my age?”
“I messed up then...and I messed up now.”
Is he apologizing? I glance over my shoulder to see if Mom is there, coaching him. The door is shut and it’s only the two of us. “How bad did you f**k up?”
“Worse than you.” Dad picks up the report card. “I never made straight Bs. I never voluntarily worked a job or kept one and I never found something to focus on like you have...When was the last time you hung out with any of your old friends?”
I shrug. “A while.”
“You spend a lot of time at the gym.”
“Yeah.”
Dad slides over a brochure for top-of-the-line equipment for a home gym. “Rachel will be spending most of her time in physical therapy, so I’m converting the front living room into her own gym and I’m hiring someone to personally oversee her recovery. While I was researching, I found this. I thought you’d like to pick out a few pieces.”
I have the same heroin-induced haze as when I talk to Abby and fall down the rabbit hole. “Thanks, but I like the gym.”
“Your mother would like to see you home more since you’ll most likely be going to college in the fall and...so would I.”
“Did you get hit in the head recently?” I hold out my left arm. “Shooting pains down this arm accompanied by chest pain? Numbness on one side of your face? New medications or just dabbling in recreational meth?”
Dad chuckles and his dark eyes shine. He’s given this look a hundred times to my brothers, but never to me. Fuck me—is that pride?
“I’ve talked to the administration at Worthington. You can return to school, and I’ve talked to the admissions office at the University of Louisville. They’re willing to review your application again.”
Gaped mouth. A couple of breaths in. “You know I was suspended for fighting, right?”
“Yes. But over the last few weeks, something has happened inside you. Something that didn’t happen inside me until I was in my twenties. You’re coming alive and I want to be a part of it.”
Wait... “Twenties? I thought you and Mom met in your freshman year of college.” The tale was one of those all-American love stories. The well-brought-up boy and girl fall in love over a shared love of education, money and extracurricular activities.
Dad’s eyes flash to mine and I slump back in my seat. “You lied.”
He rolls his neck and his silence confirms the truth. “Did you even meet at college?”
“No,” he answers. “I know what I’m talking about and I don’t want you to repeat my mistakes. Let me help you.”
For the past two months, everything has been bleak and dark and now there is light. I was stupid before. Made stupid choices. Had a future I willingly threw away. Then I discovered hunger and loneliness and my lone salvation was Haley.
Haley. “I’ll stay at Eastwick and graduate there.”
His face falls. “Worthington is one of the best schools in the state. A diploma from there will open countless doors for you in the future. Eastwick has nothing to offer you.”
It has Haley. “I’m staying there.”
“Are you scared you can’t make the same grades at Worthington? Apply yourself like you have there. The problem has always been within you, and you’re finally motivated.”
My skin crawls like I’m being cornered in a dark alley. “I’m motivated at Eastwick. I like it there and I’m staying.”
“Is this over the girl?”
My chin lifts. “You mean Haley?”
“I sent you into a situation where you could have made every wrong choice and instead you found a way to clean your life up. If we’re mirrors of each other, take my advice. This is a honeymoon period. You’ll do well at first but then sink under the bad influences. You’ve got the motivation now. Let’s get you back to where you belong and keep you from backsliding.”
“You’re my son and you left home. What did you expect me to do?”
“You kicked me out and I expected you to come after me. Not let me live in a car for two weeks.” The words slip out and I shift, immediately wishing I could take them back.
As a child I wondered if Dad’s hands were a crystal ball with all the answers because of the way he’d lose himself in them when I stood in the middle of this room waiting for whatever punishment for my crimes. I know now there’s no magic—just staring.
“I wanted you to ask me to return home,” he finally says.
“Wouldn’t have happened.” I would have lived in a car forever rather than crawl to him.
“I know,” he mumbles, then clears his throat. “And I don’t think you would have returned home even if I had come after you. I hated using your mother as the excuse to force you back, but I didn’t think you’d come home any other way. It was obvious when you didn’t return that weekend that you were set on proving something and I know how you are when you get determined.”
If he had asked me... No, if he had begged, I would have come home, but begging isn’t his style and crawling isn’t mine. Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe I was set on proving something.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” Dad asks.
“A failure? A loser? A disappointment?” If I say it first, it steals the sting from his words.
“Me.” Dad unbuttons the top of his shirt. “Every time I look at you, I see me and it’s a mirror I don’t like looking into.”
Jesus Christ. I lean forward and scrub my face with my hands. For years we’ve torn each other down. That’s how we communicate—in glares and words of hate. How the f**k am I supposed to respond to this? My head spins as if I’ve been knocked around.
“You remind me of myself,” he says. “Especially at your age. I thought your grandfather was going to kick me out before I graduated from high school.”
Neither he nor his parents have mentioned this before. Dad, in my head, has always been excruciatingly perfect. “What stopped him from doing it?”
“Your grandmother.” His eyes become distant and so does the grin on his face. “Just like your mother would have stopped me if she wasn’t involved with Rachel at the time. She’s still mad at me—for kicking you out.”
I massage my neck. The muscles tighten there, creating the sensation of choking. “You messed up? When you were my age?”
“I messed up then...and I messed up now.”
Is he apologizing? I glance over my shoulder to see if Mom is there, coaching him. The door is shut and it’s only the two of us. “How bad did you f**k up?”
“Worse than you.” Dad picks up the report card. “I never made straight Bs. I never voluntarily worked a job or kept one and I never found something to focus on like you have...When was the last time you hung out with any of your old friends?”
I shrug. “A while.”
“You spend a lot of time at the gym.”
“Yeah.”
Dad slides over a brochure for top-of-the-line equipment for a home gym. “Rachel will be spending most of her time in physical therapy, so I’m converting the front living room into her own gym and I’m hiring someone to personally oversee her recovery. While I was researching, I found this. I thought you’d like to pick out a few pieces.”
I have the same heroin-induced haze as when I talk to Abby and fall down the rabbit hole. “Thanks, but I like the gym.”
“Your mother would like to see you home more since you’ll most likely be going to college in the fall and...so would I.”
“Did you get hit in the head recently?” I hold out my left arm. “Shooting pains down this arm accompanied by chest pain? Numbness on one side of your face? New medications or just dabbling in recreational meth?”
Dad chuckles and his dark eyes shine. He’s given this look a hundred times to my brothers, but never to me. Fuck me—is that pride?
“I’ve talked to the administration at Worthington. You can return to school, and I’ve talked to the admissions office at the University of Louisville. They’re willing to review your application again.”
Gaped mouth. A couple of breaths in. “You know I was suspended for fighting, right?”
“Yes. But over the last few weeks, something has happened inside you. Something that didn’t happen inside me until I was in my twenties. You’re coming alive and I want to be a part of it.”
Wait... “Twenties? I thought you and Mom met in your freshman year of college.” The tale was one of those all-American love stories. The well-brought-up boy and girl fall in love over a shared love of education, money and extracurricular activities.
Dad’s eyes flash to mine and I slump back in my seat. “You lied.”
He rolls his neck and his silence confirms the truth. “Did you even meet at college?”
“No,” he answers. “I know what I’m talking about and I don’t want you to repeat my mistakes. Let me help you.”
For the past two months, everything has been bleak and dark and now there is light. I was stupid before. Made stupid choices. Had a future I willingly threw away. Then I discovered hunger and loneliness and my lone salvation was Haley.
Haley. “I’ll stay at Eastwick and graduate there.”
His face falls. “Worthington is one of the best schools in the state. A diploma from there will open countless doors for you in the future. Eastwick has nothing to offer you.”
It has Haley. “I’m staying there.”
“Are you scared you can’t make the same grades at Worthington? Apply yourself like you have there. The problem has always been within you, and you’re finally motivated.”
My skin crawls like I’m being cornered in a dark alley. “I’m motivated at Eastwick. I like it there and I’m staying.”
“Is this over the girl?”
My chin lifts. “You mean Haley?”
“I sent you into a situation where you could have made every wrong choice and instead you found a way to clean your life up. If we’re mirrors of each other, take my advice. This is a honeymoon period. You’ll do well at first but then sink under the bad influences. You’ve got the motivation now. Let’s get you back to where you belong and keep you from backsliding.”
