Love Strings (Completed)

06 || NOT MY FATHER

"I'll talk to him."

"You do that, but LA is where he wants to be, and the movie industry is what he's after. And he doesn't care that it's not the stable professional world I've always imagined for my boys. Nothing like what you do." She pats me on my forearm, her eyes still on the conveyor belt. "I thought with your perfect example. . .oh well. . .at least he's going to college firs—that's mine, the red one. Could you grab it?" Mom points at the suitcase that has emerged, and I step forward to wrestle it off the line. We walk over to Louka's seat, and he registers that I'm here.

"Hey." I ruffle his wavy hair.

"Hey." Louka lets me, yawns, and puts his phone away. "I'm starving," he says.

It's his normal state. At nineteen, he's six-three, an inch taller than I am, but skinny, lanky, and half my size. He's Mom's copy. Lucky. I'm Dad's, and the mirror reminds me of it every day.

"We can get fast food on the way home. I didn't have time to get groceries." I glance at Mom. She's not a fan of eating out, but she's too tired to object and asks for some fries and chicken nuggets when I place our order at the nearby drive-through.

"So, you're set on LA then?" I ask Louka after I swallow the last bite of the burger.

He's still eating his meal in the back seat, but his headphones are off for once.

"Yep. UCLA or USC, but gonna apply to a bunch and maybe transfer later on if I can't nail it on the first try. Dad said I could go to a community college too."

I'm not sure I heard him right. What the fuck?

"Dad?" I glance at Mom in the passenger seat next to me. "Did he just say 'Dad'?" She freezes, and I know I didn't mishear Louka. They've fucking seen Dad in LA and don't want to tell me about it.

"Mikey, you know Theo still lives there. We met; it's not that big of a deal." Her voice is conciliatory, and the only reason for her to talk to me this way is if it is a big deal. A much bigger deal than she fucking wants to admit to.

"You saw Dad and didn't bother to tell me?" The familiar fumes seep into my heart, pushing Angie's lightness out. "Did you plan to do it before your trip?" A flame ignites at the thought that Mom looked for him. My chest burns hot. With anger. It vibrates with it. Not that anyone would know. My temper is the gasoline: flammable in the wrong hands but an excellent fuel in the right ones. I made ‌myself the right one. The perfect one. The one who no one suspects is playing with fire inside his chest. "How did you even know where to find him?"

"I told you both, if you want to reach out and reconnect, I won't ever stand in your way. You're adults, and the decision is yours." Mom reaches out and places her hand on my elbow, squeezes it. It's Mom. I'm not going to jerk it away, but fuck, I wish I could. I wish we weren't in the car in the middle of the highway. "Theo hurt all of us, but he's not as bad of a guy as you think he is. He's been rebuilding his life. He's writing screenplays again." What she's saying is not new. But the way she's saying it is a red flag. She's back to thinking my father deserves a chance when he doesn't. "Louka got in touch with him. He wanted to see his dad. He didn't even remember him apart from the photographs."

"You should've told me."

"We weren't even sure he'd show—"

"Speak for yourself, Mom." Louka pipes in from the back seat. "Dad's not the flake Mike's always been trying to make him be—"

"Not a flake?" My blood is reaching the boiling point. "Walking out on his wife and kids and not caring for them till they're grown?"

"He didn't walk out. He was in prison. You owe it to him to listen to his side of the story, bro."

"I owe that fuc—man nothing!"

"Boys, boys, stop shouting. Louka, let your brother drive. Mikey, focus on the road. We'll talk about it later."

Fuckety-fuck.

Like hell we will. Not if I have anything to do with it. I don't want to listen to the lies my father has been feeding them. My phone begins to ring. It's Ben's mom. I hope she wants me to stop by and pick up the leftovers after all.

"Mike here. You're on speakerphone."

"Sorry to bother you, Mike, but it's urgent. How soon can you get to Ben's place?"

"I'm almost home, and it's at least thirty minutes to Ben's from there. Forty-five minutes? An hour, if traffic is bad? What's going on?"

"Ben is having . . . well . . . I'll explain when I see you."

"Absolutely, Marguerite." I swallow a lump in my throat. "I'll be there."

No leftovers then. And no pizza tonight.

"What happened?" Mom's hand on my elbow again. She may think it's calming me down, but I know it's what calms her down, so I let her.

"You've heard the same thing I did." I regret my tone the minute the words come out of my mouth.

"Mikey—"

"Sorry, Mom. You guys rest. I'll ride Beauty and be back as soon as I can. Don't wait up."

"Please be careful. Don't rush. The weather is getting worse."

"You know I always am, Mom."

I'm not my fucking father.