Page 21 of Rhett

“I don’t understand the question. We just are who we are.”

“Yes. That’s true. And some things are taught to us, so I was curious if you thought that could be part of it.”

I think about the hundreds, the thousands of situations and comments from my father. I do like to succeed, and I do like to do well and make the right choices, but I must admit that while part of the desire comes from me, a lot of it comes from him. “I think it’s a combination. In some ways, yes, that’s the way I’m built, but it was also hammered into me by my father.” My heart bangs against my chest. “He…berated me if I wasn’t perfect. Kept any signs of love or positive affirmations for moments where I made him proud. And those never came from things like helping others or doing something nice. It was only when I did better than others or succeeded. He made me feel like mistakes meant I’m not good enough; that I could never be the son he needed me to be if I wasn’t perfect.”

I wait for her to tell me I’m wrong, that I’m being ridiculous or overreacting, but what she says is, “That must have been hard. I’m sorry you had to experience that,” validating me and my feelings. Trusting my word on my own life.

“Can’t change the past.” I swipe at my eyes, and…holy shit. Is that a tear?

“No, we can’t. But you can work on changing learned behaviors.”

I nod, hoping she’s right.

We talk more about the party, and she asks about my brothers. I share a lot with her about Meadow, which leads to Tripp.

“It sounds like the two of you are becoming friends.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Tripp…Cass—hell, I don’t even call him what everyone else does—he’s just a nice guy.”

“It seems so. I’d like you to work on cutting yourself some slack over the next week. Do something fun or something that’s just for you.”

“That’s my woodworking.”

“Good. Continue with that, but if you can find anything else to do just for you, something that makes you feel good, do that too.”

We wrap up the session, and then I head out. It’s still early in the day since I moved to a morning appointment. If I ever find a job, that might have to change. I think about that the whole way back to Birchbark. I have money saved, but it won’t last forever. Plus, I’m not the kind of man who can sit around all the time. I need to figure out what the hell to do with my life.

When I get back home, I go straight to my shop to work on my latest project. I’ve decided that one of my spare rooms needs built-in shelves. If I ever decide to sell my house, anything I can do like that will increase the value. I’ve already done all the measuring and picked up the wood, so today I’ll get started building the unit.

I put my goggles on, get the saw set up, and begin cutting the pieces. This is the only time where my brain turns off, where I can forget about everything else and just lose myself in it. Normally, my brain is always running—things I need to do, my brothers, my father. Even though I don’t talk to the motherfucker anymore, he still takes up too much space in my brain. The truth is, despite everything he’s done, I feel guilty fornot talking to him, for not being there to take care of him. He had a stroke, and I’m his son, and—no.

I shake my head, trying not to let those thoughts interfere with my project. Usually it’s easier than this.

“Tag! You’re it!” I hear Morgan tell Mom. I look out the window and see them running around in the yard. The bottoms of my feet itch with the desire to run outside and join them, but then I look at the books on the table in front of me and immediately feel stupid for wanting to be out there when I have responsibilities to take care of.

I got a B…a Bon my last test. I’m taking advanced classes, but I should still be able to do better than that. If Dad finds out, he’ll be so disappointed in me. That’s the worst feeling in the world. Making him proud makes me feel like I’m something, makes me feel invincible and like one day I could really be just like him.

I get back to my studying, but every few minutes, I can’t stop myself from looking up, staring at Mom and Morgan through the open window, hearing them laugh. Seeing them roll in the grass, having fun.

“You’re daydreaming when you should be studying.”

I immediately sit up straighter at the sound of Dad’s voice behind me, my spine stiff.

“I’m sorry. I was just…” Watching Morgan and Mom play. Wishing I could be out there with them. “I was daydreaming when I should be studying,” I say because it’s true. I’m the one Dad counts on. I’m the one who is going to follow in his footsteps. I’m going to be the one to make him proud, and using an excuse won’t help with that.

Dad squeezes my shoulder. “Good man,” he says, and I have to bite back my smile, but I feel it in my chest. Feel…important. Feel wanted.

“I’m doing my best to make you proud. I promise!”

“Get back to studying. If you want to make me proud, you have to work hard. It won’t be easy. Do you think you can do it?”

Does that mean he doesn’t think I can do it? “I can,” I tell him.

“I’m counting on you, Rhett. You want to be the one I can count on, don’t you? Morgan can do it if—”

“I can do it,” I cut him off.

I expect him to call me on it, but he doesn’t. “That’s what I want to hear.”

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