Page 92 of You Started It

“It’s almost December. Besides, people love it. Gives them something to look forward to.”

“I guess,” I say, wishing I had something to look forward to. “Let’s go to Roots. They’ll have lots of warm hats and gloves to choose from.”

“Okay, Teta.” Dad laughs.

“Hey, Dad,” I say as we walk through the mall. “How well do you know Mom’s parents?”

He shakes his head. “Not very. We spent most of our courtship sneaking around, and after we eloped, she kept her distance from them.”

“Why?”

“I think because she thought they were ashamed of her. For getting pregnant. And when they tried to reconnect, she’d meet each attempt by pushing them away. Said it wasn’t worth it. When I asked why, she’d explain that every time they got together, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were disappointed in her.”

“But don’t you think it isn’t fair that I have no relationship with them? I mean, your parents I at least see a couple times a year. That is until you left,” I say, quietly. “I used to go visit Teta and Sedo with Amo Eli when I was younger, but then it felt like Mom was starting to resent me for having a relationship with them. She had this big fight with Eli once about it and told him he couldn’t take me over there anymore. And now so much time has passed, it feels weird to reach out.”

“It’s complicated, James.”

“What isn’t?” I ask with a dismissive roll of the eyes.

“You’re almost an adult now. If you want a relationship with your grandparents, you should have one.”

“What about Mom?”

“No one could tell your mother what to do when she was seventeen.”

“Eighteen in January,” I remind him. “So you’re saying I should outright go against her wishes?”

“Do you know how she feels about this topic? I mean, have you sat down with her to discuss it or are you building this up all in your head to be bigger than it is?”

“She’s not the easiest person to talk to,” I say simply.

“Believe me, I know.” Dad smiles. “She wouldn’t even accept money from me after I left. The few times we communicated it was only to make sure that I’d sign the divorce papers. She asked for full custody, which I of course granted, and she refused any child support. She insisted on doing it alone.” A prolonged silence stretches between us as we continue to walk. I didn’t know any of that. There’s still so much I don’t know about those three years Dad was gone. “We made it,” Dad says as we come to the storefront.

“We did,” I respond, my throat tight.

After Dad buys a red toque and gloves, we leave the busy mall and grab some hot chocolate at Tims before admiring the holiday window displays. I haven’t done this in years, and while it’s nice to be with my father again, reliving some childhood memories, it’s also pretty bittersweet. All those years lost. Moments that could have been memories. Instead, it’s just a black hole of time.

We head back to Nathan Phillips and rent our skates. We bring them to a bench and, just like when I was a kid, Dad gets on bended knee to tie my laces for me.

“It feels nice to be needed for something,” he says in a way that’s supposed to be a joke, but I can tell he means it.

“I’ve always needed you,” I say softly, my fingernails pressing into the cold metal bench.

He looks up at me. “I’m here now. And I don’t plan on leaving again.”

“Good. Because I haven’t skated in years, so I’m really going to need you in about two minutes.” We laugh as Dad finishes tying my laces. He helps me up and guides me to the rink.

“Just hold onto me. I’ll keep you upright.”

“And if I fall?” I ask.

“Then I’ll help you get back up.”

My throat tightens again and my eyes well up. Dad releases one hand and strokes my face. “I missed you so much, James.”

“I missed you too.”

“I’m so sorry I screwed up.”

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