Page 98 of Bidding War

“Splendid.” He pauses, looking me over. “So, how is June doing with all of this?”

51

ANDERSON

In all my years on this planet, my father has never shown an interest in a girlfriend of mine. He has also never tried to be supportive when I've done something he explicitly told me not to do, and June falls under that umbrella. As soon as he said her name, a shot of panic went up my back. I knew it was coming. I came here fully expecting to be interrogated and, once again, told to dump her. Today was always going to be a fight, but I didn’t think it would go down like this.

“What would you like to know about June?”

“I thought I made that clear. I made an inquiry into her well-being.”

“Yes, and since you've never done that before, I want to know what it is that you want to know about her.”

He draws a long, slow breath. It seems I've irritated him. “I have tried to ask about her. How is she doing? It cannot be easy for her to deal with the fact that her boyfriend has gone through something so traumatic. So I ask how she is doing. As I understand it, that is something that people do when they care about people.”

It's almost as though he is doing his best to replicate a good parent. But I can't tell if this is coming from a sincere place or not. I have a lifetime of baggage telling me that this is a trap. I'll play his game until he gives me a reason not to. “She is doing well. Thank you for asking.”

“My social set is aging, and with that comes the issues of aging. Debilitation. Disability. Sickness. It happens to everyone. But not everyone can handle it. Some people are excellent caregivers. Some are not. So I suppose my real question is, has she been there for you? I wouldn't hold it against her if she wasn't. Personally, I have never been much of a caregiver?—“

I try to keep it to myself, but a laugh pops out of me. “Apologies.”

He waves his hand in the air as if to say it's nothing. “You are right to laugh. I'm well aware of my shortcomings. Caregiving is one of them. I could hardly hold it against her if it's something I am incapable of.”

At least the man isn’t a hypocrite.

“To answer your question, June has been great. When I left the hospital, she was the one who was there taking care of me. She cooked my meals. She helped me in the shower. There were even a few incidences where she had to help me in the bathroom, which was utterly humiliating, but she was unfazed. June has been there for me every step of the way. And she has taken all of it with a poise and grace that I didn't know was possible.”

Tension leaves his shoulders. “I am very glad to hear that, son.”

“I love her. I loved her before all of this. And I love her even more now. We've known each other since high school. I don't know if I told you that. I was in love with her then, but I was terrible to her. Cruel. In part because that was what I thought love was. I saw how you treated everyone around you, and I absorbed that and mimicked it. That was what I put out into the world because of you. It took me a very long time to unlearn your cruelty. When I found her again, I decided I was never letting her go. And I am glad that I made that choice.”

His lips curve a little. “Then I am glad you did, as well.”

It is uncomfortable to be completely honest with him. Maybe because it is so new? It feels wrong, like I’m falling into his trap. I have no inner gauge about this. This isn't me running off at the mouth at him or saying things to make him uncomfortable. This is just me being me.

Maybe I can turn getting shot and almost dying into a good thing.

Quietly, I ask, “What do you have to say to me about how you have been about her?”

“That things are never as simple as they appear. But as it stands, I want only your happiness.”

Another non-apology. I have too many years in the bank to believe that he wants my happiness. Maybe if my happiness dovetailed into a benefit for the business, he would want that. This is the same man who threatened me with prison time not so long ago. The man who told me that I had to break up with June, or I was done for. He has done everything in his power to ruin me, and now he wants to act as if we are a normal father and son. For now, this turnaround remains hard to believe.

But I'd like to. I think everyone has an inner child who wants their parents’ approval. I'm not above such things. It's almost as if my near-death experience changed him instead of me. “So you're actually happy for me in regards to June?”

“I am happy if you're happy.”

This is still too strange. It's like my mother is puppeting my father's mouth. In a strange way, it hurts more than if he had been an asshole. If this really is him, then this man was always somewhere deep down inside of him. That means that we have spent thirty years going head-to-head with each other for no reason. He could have been this caring, this nice, this understanding, and he chose to be a fucking bastard. It is hard not to be angry at him right now.

I know that traumatic events can change people. I am trying to be cognizant of the fact that these things can seriously alter a person, and if he is to be believed, that’s happened to him. But right now, all I can think of is the boy I was who just wanted a hug from his dad and never got one. I am angry for him.

“You're happy that I'm happy? Since when?”

“People change, Anderson. Best to roll with the punches.”

People don't change that much. They don't go 180° from their original personality. This is fake. It has to be.

“Is this some kind of a prank? Is this funny to you? To pretend that you care about what I'm going through?”

---