Hoops and Dreams

[24] Peace talks

"Yeah."

He nods, "We were gonna name you, Ethan."

I snort. I know an Ethan. Not the sharpest knife in anybody's drawer. I dodged a bullet on that front.

"You should have seen my face when they said you were a girl. This tiny screaming infant was a girl and she was mine. She was my daughter. It was the most frightening thing I'd ever heard. I knew then that I'd do anything to make sure you'd never cry again."

He's close to making me cry right now. Good job, Dad.

"You looked just like me. Or that's what your mom said." He muses with a chuckle. "You had no hair, nothing. For weeks you were bald as an eagle without a strand in sight."

Not a very flattering description of me but I'll allow it. I cling to his words. My dad doesn't normally speak about the woman who gave birth to me. To him the less we talk about her, the more it seems like she doesn't exist. In his mind the less I know, the better.

"I'm a late bloomer."

Dad chuckles in response. "Yes, you were."

He parks and I realize where we've been heading this entire time. Newport beach.

A relic of my childhood.

My dad doesn't play when it comes to guilt-tripping. He brings up old stories from my past, he takes me down soothing nighttime drives in the car and compounds upon it with a nostalgic walk down memory lane. Don't be deceived by his fluffy graying hair or his disarming paunch, the man is a cold-hearted criminal mastermind.

Except his goal is to teach his wayward daughter a lesson as opposed to world domination.

We get out of the Honda when he's parked as close to the sand as possible and I hear it click into locked from behind me. The walk over the sand is so familiar and I press my feet down as it changes texture from pebbly to fine.

Even at night, it's a beautiful view. Where the white ground meets the endless blue. In an instant, I'm taken back years. Walking just along the water as a child too scared to swim even when Timothy was becoming bold enough to wade the shallow end. The horizon is just as far away now as it was then and the world is reduced to this one moment.

I wish Darnell was here.

But I chase the thought away as quickly as it appears. I'm too corny for no good reason these days.

"We were so young when you were born," Dad says from behind me. "Young and stupid. I was just about your age."

"So pretty stupid then?" I ask.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the edges, "Pretty stupid."

"You were unexpected and unplanned." He says pulling me in for a bear hug. "But you were still the best damn gift I've ever gotten. God works in the strangest ways. The things you never knew you wanted become the things you can't live without."

For what feels like forever I stand in his arms. Taking in the smell of salt in the air the cigarette and fabric softener on his clothes. The smell of my home. I press my face into his chest, taking another deep breath.

"I'm sorry for what I said," I say at last.

"I'm not the one you should apologize to."

"I know."

We don't stay for much longer but on the way home, we take a detour, stopping at a 24/7 donut place. A trio of donuts for my dad and a giant coffee for me. I'll need it if I'm going to work on some real chemistry tonight.