Page 70 of Promise Me Nothing
It was at only thirteen years old that I realized something incredibly important, something most people don’t learn until much later in life.
No one else could be in charge of whether or not I felt like I belonged. I either decided to know myself, believe in myself, and carve out my place in this world… or I didn’t. And I couldn’t place blame on anyone else for that, ever.
So I went home, tucked that file into a drawer, and didn’t think much about it. I had a happy life. A weird older brother that I loved as much as young brothers who are always at odds can love each other. A mom and dad who loved me. And a new baby sister. “A happy accident,” my mom had called Ivy.
It was only two years later that Lucas asked me for the name of my P.I. so he could go in search of his own dad. A man who had spent some time with him when he was a kid, but who suddenly stopped coming around without explanation.
Within two weeks he came to me, his emotions in turmoil.
“He had another family,” he says, then takes a hit off the joint I bought from Otto’s dealer last week. I’d planned to save it for a special occasion, but it seems like Lucas needs it more than I do. “I mean, I guess I knew that already. I think I remember meeting his kids once. He brought them out here. Joshua and Hannah.”
He takes another hit, holding the smoke in as he passes it over to me. I take my own hit, deciding not to say anything until Lucas gets it all out. The level of drama in this town never ceases to amaze me.
“Really? Shit. That seems stupid if you’re trying to have a secret family.”
He shakes his head. “It wasn’t a secret. Well, I guess I was the secret. I mean, I never expected that he’d like, come back and be a real dad. But I didn’t expect that he’d be… gone.”
And that’s the real kicker. Finding out that the guy passed away a few years ago. Dying in a car accident along with his wife.
“What happened to his kids?” I ask.
Lucas’ expression pinches, true sadness crossing his face. “Joshua died recently, too. Some kind of accident at work.”
“Jesus,” I say, shaking my head. “Talk about bad luck in the family. Shit.”
“I just… I always thought I’d be able to talk to him again. You know? Like, I thought I’d be able to grow up and then maybe know him. And now… that’s just gone.”
I don’t know how to handle Lucas’ level of emotion about his dad, not feeling the same emotional connection to my own birth parents, so I pass the joint back, hoping he’ll take another hit and it’ll help him let it go.
“And now I have a sister,” he says. “I don’t even know how to handle this. Or what I should do.”
“Sisters aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” I joke, hoping to alleviate some of the tension.
But Lucas only gives me a half smile.
“Should I reach out to her? I mean, she has to be like… so alone, you know? Her parents and then her brother died.”
“Look. Don’t stress about it now. You’ve got plenty of time. You don’t have to make a decision today. Give it some time.”
He nods, looks back out to the ocean from where we’re seated on his balcony, taking a break from the party he’s throwing after the sophomore year Homecoming dance.
“What was your dad’s name?” I ask, holding my glass of scotch up in the air. I’m still trying to decide if I like the stuff, but it’s slowly growing on me.
Maybe, if we toast to the guy, we can try and salvage Lucas’ evening with an uplifting speech. Some shit about staying positive and living for the now.
For all I know, the guy was a useless piece of shit, but he was a man who had died, and maybe it will make Lucas feel better.
“Henry Morrison.”
At the name, a strange sensation runs the length of my spine, an uncomfortable feeling sounding an alarm throughout my body. An angry, banging, red light alarm in my mind.
I know that name.
How do I know that name?
I still toast the man. Give Lucas a small smile as we lift our drinks to the setting sun in his memory.
But the minute I get home, having left Lucas’ party early, I go straight to my mom’s room. I call it that because my dad is never here. Always off with some woman, though my mother always claims he’s at work.
