Page 51 of Press Your Luck

Bo winced. “Damn, man. That sucks."

I shrugged. I was beginning to think that this was going to be my lot in life, at least until Porter was eighteen.

“Will you still come to our party tonight?” Bo asked. “Kids are invited, so you're both welcome."

Dammit. I’d forgotten. “Are you sure you want Porter around?”

“He’s your son, Pierce. Of course we do. Besides, the more he’s around normal people and kids, the more chance he’ll change, right?”

I gave him a tight smile, skeptical of his claim.

I left the rink and headed to the school. When I arrived, I went to the office, checked him out, and loaded him into the car.

The ride home from school was filled with an oppressive silence. I glanced at Porter, trying to read the emotions behind his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes. I should ask him what happened, but he’d likely lie. He knew right from wrong. What good would talking about his behavior do? Which wasn’t to say he wouldn’t be disciplined. I only wasn’t going to try and decipher why he was so angry and acting out. Chances were he didn’t know the answer, anyway.

When we arrived home, I decided it was time for a change in approach. "Porter. I'm taking away your new gifts for now." I headed straight to the extra room where all his games and toys were stored and began unhooking the gaming unit to pack it away.

“You can’t do that,” he yelled as he reached for the game.

“Yes, I can. You'll get them back when you prove you can manage your anger and stop acting like a selfish brat." Was it wrong to call him a selfish brat? Maybe I needed to find a parent education course.

“You hate me. Everyone hates me.”

My heart wrenched in my chest. I stopped what I was doing but didn’t put the game box down. “I don’t hate you, Porter. But I’ll be honest. Sometimes, I don’t like you. I don’t like how you treat me and others. But make no mistake—I love you.”

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t take my stuff.”

“I’m taking your stuff because I love you. Because I need to teach you how to behave.” I wondered what the hell Jeannie did to discipline him. I suppose he was with me now because whatever she'd tried didn’t work. She’d sent him away because he wasn’t acting right.

“I hate you.”

His words were like a knife to the chest, but thinking about our situation and putting myself in his shoes, the pain was even worse. “I want you to know that nothing you do is going to change things. I’m sticking, Porter. I might take your games as punishment, but I won’t send you away.”

He stared at me, and for a moment I thought I saw emotion besides anger in his eyes. But it was a flash, and then he was glaring again. "Whatever.” He stormed out of the room and to the living room, where he picked up the remote.

I followed him and took it from him. “No TV either. Instead, I’ve got some work for you to do. You need to learn that actions have consequences."

I took the games and remote, locking them in my room. Then I returned to the living room with a bucket full of cleaning supplies. “You can start in the guest bathroom.”

He sat on the couch with his arms crossed.

“The longer you sit there, the longer you’ll be without your games.”

He continued to ignore me.

I shrugged. “Okay. But nothing else happens until you clean the bathroom. No TV. No meals. Nothing.” I left the bucket on the coffee table and went to the kitchen. I wanted to grab a beer but instead got water and wondered if I was doing the right thing. How long could he sit there? Days? I couldn’t let him go days without eating.

A few moments later, I heard the door to his room slam shut. I considered going and getting him and putting him on the couch but decided to let it go.

I meant what I said. I wasn’t going to give up on him, but I needed help. I pulled out my phone and called Jeannie. "Porter's been suspended from school for fighting. I've taken away his gifts and given him chores, but nothing seems to be working. I don't know what else to do."

"Maybe it's because you haven't been there for him, Pierce," she said. "He's had twelve years of anger building up inside, and you think a few weeks of playing Dad are going to fix that?"

She had some fucking nerve. “Gee, Jeannie, maybe if you’d told me about him, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

She was quiet for a moment, I hoped reflecting on how fucked up it was that she'd kept him from me... kept me from him. “You can’t send him back.”

“I don’t want to send him back,” I snapped. In fact, I didn’t want to ever send him back. Not that I would stop him from seeing her, but clearly, the way she'd pawned him off on me and was inconsistent with staying in touch with him, she wasn’t providing the stability he needed. “I was hoping you’d have some ideas on how to reach him.”

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