Page 89 of Wait For It

“I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks now,” he said quietly, pulling at the cuff of his long-sleeved Hurricanes t-shirt.

When we were arguing, it had been easy to miss the lines on his face and the gray in his hair. Looking at him now, I was forced to admit he wasn’t getting any younger.

It seemed like such a waste that we’d spent years at each other’s throats, each of us convinced that we knew better than the other.

“Look, Dad,” I began, but he stopped me, patting the cushion beside his.

“Come here. Let’s talk.”

Typically, those last two words would have sent me spiraling into a state of defensive anger, but this was different. There was something in his voice that told me he was just as tired of fighting as I was, so I leaned my crutches against the wall and joined him.

“When you didn’t return my calls or texts, I considered showing up to the rehab facility and forcing you to see me.” He grimaced and shook his head. “But that’s what got us into this mess—me, forcing you to do things my way.”

I shifted my jaw back and forth with a nod. “We never really talked much.”

“You’re right. We spent most of our time yelling. And I can’t say I blame you for ignoring me. Our relationship is what it is because of the way I’ve treated you.”

I gaped, completely blindsided by the admission.

“Tonight, while driving you home, it struck me that you’re not a kid anymore, and I don’t know anything about your life beyond what your mama tells me.” He held up his hand. “Now, don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying that to start an argument. You’re close to her, and I respect that. She shielded you from so much the first twelve years of your life. But you knew—I saw it in the way you looked at me when she’d let me come home.”

“Wasn’t enough to stop you from doing it again, though, was it?” I asked, feeling the old bitterness and hurt seeping into my voice.

He stared through the flat screen on the wall, to a past I’d tried to forget. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “I’d swear every time was the last time, but then something would happen, and I couldn’t cope. I’d take off and leave your mother and you to fend for yourselves.”

I tugged my hands through my hair. “You do remember I was there, right? You can skip the recap, I’m well aware of how it went down.”

“Yeah?” He sniffed, mashing his lips into a thin line. “What about your twelfth birthday—you remember that? Because I do. Coming off a three-day bender in the middle of a goddamned tropical storm. I wanted nothing more than to get home to you, but your mama refused—rightfully so, I might add—said I had to get professional help.”

“She told me you had a conference out of town that you couldn’t get out of,” I said softly, picking at the edge of my knee brace with my thumbnail.

His face fell, but he jerked his chin in a nod. “Better than I deserved, but that’s your mama. No, I’d hit rock bottom. Woke up on a park bench without a wallet and just wandered the city, trying to sober up. When the storm hit, the streets began to flood. I remembered there was this televangelist with a church nearby—thought for sure they’d take me in.”

Something like empathy struck me in the chest as I considered the humiliation he must have felt. “And did they?”

He forced a laugh before shaking his head. “Never even made it past the gate. When they threatened to have me arrested, I left. At that point, the water had risen to my calves, and I just wanted it to be over. And then she appeared—”

“Who?”

“At first glance, I thought she was an angel. The streetlights, they hit her red hair in such a way that it almost looked like a halo. And her eyes were the most vibrant shade of green, but the color wasn’t what made them striking, it was the way they seemed to see past my flaws.”

He shook his head slowly as if still in disbelief. That made two of us. My mouth had been hanging open for a solid ten seconds, but I was too shocked to speak. The woman sounded just like Ari, which was impossible because she would have been a child back then.

“I told her about you—”

“What—why?”

His gaze softened as it moved over my face. “Because that woman looked at me like maybe she saw someone worth saving and I couldn’t help but think of you, spending your birthday without your father. I told her I wanted to get home—to be the kind of dad you deserved.” He exhaled a bitter laugh. “Well, can’t win ‘em all, can you?”

“You weren’t a bad father—you were just—” I struggled to find the right word, something that only seemed to make his smile stretch higher.

“An asshole? It’s okay, I can take it.”

“No,” I disagreed with a shake of my head. “It’s like, when you were drinking, you loved to make people laugh. And then you sobered up, and you weren’t that same person anymore. You were closed-off.”

“I thought if I lived by the rules, it’d make up for the time we lost…” His words trailed off as he stared off into the void again.

“But it wasn’t just you,” I argued, tightening my hands into fists. “You put all that shit on me. Reed men do this, and Reed men don’t do that. Hell, even when it came to baseball, there was always some way I could have been better!”

---