Page 78 of More Than Chemical
I stared at the wood table. My heart was pounding, my muscles quivering. He was giving me a guilt trip, which made me dislike this guy even more. “Why don’t you ask Eric to go?”
Dad’s expression was unreadable. “We tried. He can’t come.”
“Oh, that’s right.” My shoulders were tense, and I knew that what I was going to say next was going to be petty and hurtful. But I didn’t care. “He’s probably busy with his AHL team, not the NHL draft team who dropped him…because ofyou.”
Dad grimaced.
The lawyer piped up again, his voice full of authority. “Eric would be a great option, but he can’t be here because of his commitments. That’s why we need you.”
A bitter taste rose in my throat.
My family and I had been on a camping trip once and gotten hit by a severe thunderstorm, the rain coming at us horizontally because the straight-line winds had been that bad. That was how I felt now. Like I was being blindsided. I couldn’t orient myself. Couldn’t keep myself upright.
My father dug into his lunch, but I couldn’t imagine taking one single bite of my sandwich. I’d probably throw it up the moment I tried to swallow.
I had to leave.
So I put on my jacket and grabbed my backpack.
“Ade, where are you going?” My dad almost sounded like he was choking.
“I can’t do this.” I put on my backpack. “I’m getting an Uber.”
I turned and left. I walked faster and faster, opened my Uber app, and ordered one.
Good. Only two minutes away. I needed to create space between myself and him before I flipped out completely.
In the vestibule to the office building, I stared out the window, waiting. My muscles wouldn’t stop quivering.
I just wanted a father. One who wasn’t a narcissist. One who could try to understand what I’d been going through this year. But even that must be too much to ask.
The interior door burst open.
“Ade,” my dad sputtered, out of breath. “Please don’t leave like this.”
“What other choice do I have?”
“Stay.”
“Stay and what?” My nostrils flared. “Be treated with more disrespect?”
He shook his head. “Disrespect?”
“Today I thought we were supposed to have our first lunch, our firstconversation,since the arrest, and instead you brought me to see your lawyer. Then your lawyer tells me that you need my help and that, while you know my situation, you need me to do it anyway. That’s what I call disrespect.”
He came toward me, trying to bridge the distance between us, but I stepped back.
“My God, Ade, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to feel this way. You have my utmost respect. You always have.”
“Like when you went behind my back and tried to use your influence to get that hockey cheer coach to put me on their team because you didn’t think I was good enough to get on it by myself?”
His arms fell to his sides. “I wasn’t thinking when I did that, honey. It was a mistake. I made a lot of mistakes.”
The Uber car pulled up in front of the door.
“You’ve always been good enough,” he said. “I’ve always been so proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
I was shaking now, uncontrollably. Part of me wanted to sink to the floor and let him console me. To convince me that all the pent-up, hurtful feelings I had about him right now were wrong.
