Page 10 of You Were Invited
The paper buckled in Julian’s fist. Growling and tight-jawed, he stood bracing himself against the counter, staring into space, his heart racing in his chest. Twenty years of pain grasped him.
It had never crossed his mind for a second that he was obligated to forgive his father for what he’d done. And it was both a blessing and a curse that Clive was locked away. All he’d wanted as a kid was to wake up one day to a normal life. Now that he had it, he recognized the cost had been a high one… A wish granted by a nightmare…
A week after his mom had turned forty-nine, she’d stopped by to visit Julian at the department store where he’d worked. On her actual birthday, Julian had driven her out of town to Heritage Days in Columbia Falls. Clive had been at work. At least part of the day. Her lively spirit sparkled brightly as she talked about everything she wanted to do before she turned fifty. Reading. Learning knitting. Hiking. He’d smiled as she’d explained what a “chevron” quilt was, and listened as she talked about going out to dinner with his father.
“Do you want to come to dinner, too, honey?”
“No, that’s all right,” he told her. “Dad will be less of a sour puss if I’m not there.”
His mom clucked her tongue. “I’m the birthday girl. I get to invite whoever I want.”
The last thing he wanted was to suffer through a meal with a condescending asshole. “Enjoy your dinner, Mom. I’ll see you next weekend.”
That night, Julian had come home and cracked open a pilsner.
And a second.
Then six more.
Sometime before midnight, an officer had knocked on his then-downtown apartment door.
Through his drunken haze, he’d gathered that his father had taken a right turn on a red and had pulled out in front of a long hauler.
Dad in critical. Mom declared dead at the scene.
The news of the accident absolutely gutted an already sloppy Julian. Much to his shame, he was in no condition to drive. He tried to keep it together as he faced the police officer, who could smell the beer on his breath. Since Northgold was too small to have a cab service, she’d taken pity and driven him to the hospital.
When his comatose father’s labs came back, doctors discovered that he’d had a blood alcohol concentration well exceeding the legal limit. Witnesses had reported strange driving just before the crash– swerving wildly around cars, narrowly avoiding collisions with them. Julian couldn’t shake the image of the car careening through the streets, pinballing between the lane lines. For weeks, every screech of tires and blaring horn made his heart hammer.
His mother had been loyal to a fault, warm, and forgiving. Julian loathed his father for taking advantage of her kindness.Worm-brained bastard.But for as long as Julian was alive, hedoubted he’d ever know why she’d just swept his father’s addiction under the rug.
“You got drunk at her birthday dinner? I can’t believe you,” he’d berated his father once he was out of his induced coma. Julian sat stiff in the hospital chair, hands clenched so tightly in his lap that his knuckles were white. “Why wasn’t she driving?”
“She had a migraine.”
“Why didn’t ya just call me?” Julian had asked, red-faced with anger. He’d swallowed down the lump in his throat. Hell if he let this bedridden monster see him cry. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Didn’t want to bother you. And I heard you needed a police escort yourself.”
Julian had never had come so close to punching someone in the face. As it was, he’d lunged forward, hands ready to grasp his father’s neck, but had stopped short before fleeing the hospital room.
If only I’d gone to dinner with them in the first place…
The next and last time he saw his father was the day the judge had sentenced him to prison.
Most people in town treated Julian differently after the crash. Within weeks, the pain of losing his mother became too strong to numb with his usual amounts of alcohol, and more than one person at work had rightfully sneered at him for how despicable he’d become. And only in hindsight could Julian admit to himself that he, too, had been a functioning alcoholic pre-crash.
Six months after the accident, Julian had checked himself into a detox center. When he’d come out of the haze and illness, he’d clearly seen his next step.
Once he'd committed to his sobriety, old drinking friends vanished. It was bittersweet, but he knew he had to do more to keep himself on the straight and narrow. The fear of temptation and losing his chip had terrified him enough to save every penny he had in order to move out into the woods. He’d rented out his parent’s home to make extra income — he really wasn’t sure if his father knew about it or not.
If he’d quit sooner, perhaps he could’ve been the role model his father needed. Although, Julian knew that not everyone was in the market for one, or cared to give up their vices.
Julian took his father’s letter to his fireplace, yanked opened the door, and tossed it in along with the other junk mail. Only then did he realize he’d gotten a paper cut.
He’s already served five years. What am I going to do when he gets out in a couple three?A life sentence didn’t even feel like it was enough.I shouldn’t have read that damn letter.It was liable to ignite feelings in his heart that he would rather not feel.
And that was dangerous.
