If there was an award for 'Most Awkward Car Drive', I think the one where my biological father who gave me up for foster care 10 years ago was driving me to the nearest diner had to be the winner. The silence was tense. I was kind of nervous to meet him. I guess, maybe he was, too. He kept opening his mouth to say something, then changing his mind and closing it again.
Once the car stopped, I got out of it and so did my biological father. I almost laughed when I realised that I didn't even know his name. We walked side-by-side toward the old diner. I now know where I got my tall genes from. I stood slightly taller than him, though.
We found a booth at the back and sat down. It was strange to see such a clearly wealthy man sitting in a cheap diner like 'Gary's.' My father looked through the menu. I did, too. Or at least pretended to. I didn't have any money, and I'd never accept having him pay for me. It's just, I don't know, too weird.
The waitress walked up to us. "Hello, welcome to Gary's. Are you ready to order?" She smiled brightly. "Hm, I'll have the cheeseburger. No tomato, please. And he will have..." My father trailed off. "I'll have a coke." I said. They had free soda. The waitress wrote it down. My father looked over at me and frowned. "You sure that's all you want?" He asked. I nodded.
My biological father tapped his fingers against the table. I was too scared to ask for his name. Just suck it up and ask. Geez, it's better than moving in with a guy you don't know the name of. "So, uh, is it too late to ask what your name is?" I broke the awkward silence with an even more awkward question. "Michael. My name's Michael. Well, Michael Jr. after your grandfather." He replied. I nodded.
"You sure you aren't hungry, kid? Have you had breakfast?" Michael seemed sort of worried. It was odd, he seemed good at being a dad. "I'm just not that hungry." I smiled at him. He frowned then beckoned the waitress to come back. "I'd like to order another burger. How do you like your burgers, Daniel?" He asked me. "Um, no tomatoes, no onions, and no pickles." I muttered. I didn't want to seem rude.
"You can... you can call me Danny." I said, hesitating a bit. Michael smiled brightly, like I had just told him he won the lottery. "Okay!" He said. I chuckled lightly. "So, Danny, tell me about yourself." He said.
"Well, there isn't really much to say. I'm 15, I'm guessing you already knew. I'm not really into sports. Um, not sure if there's something I'm missing. Yeah, I'm pretty boring." I replied, laughing nervously. "Do you do well in school?" He asked. Of course, all parents are interested in school and grades. "I do, I'm at the top of my class. No behavioural problems. No absences." I said, remembering all the other times I've listed my traits. "Yeah, I knew that. I read your file. I was kind of more curious how well you get on with others at school."
"I'm not the most popular," I smiled, "but I get along fine with my peers." I speak as though I've memorised a script. Like I'm advertising a household appliance or something.
"Good." Michael nodded. "That's good." Just then, the waitress came back with my coke. "Thank you." I muttered, and took a sip of the cold liquid. "So I guess it's my turn to talk about myself." Michael said.
"I'm 44. I was 21 when your oldest brother was born. His name's James. He's 23. I'm a lawyer. I used to play football in high school. I'm not very talented at anything these days." He chuckled. "So, what about my other 2 brothers?" I asked, curious.
"Ah, yes. After James there's Freddie. He's 21. Then there's Sam, he's 17. You'll be attending high school with him." I could tell, just by the way his eyes twinkled when he said each of their names, that he's incredibly proud of his sons. It's a punch to the stomach. My throat constricts and I swallow to make it go away. "Looking forward to it." I smile tightly.
The waitress puts Michael's cheeseburger in front of him. I sip on my soda, feeling kind of hungry. "Michael..." I started. He looked up, a mixture of pain and guilt in his eyes. Well, I wasn't going to call him dad. "Um, I know Kim's already told you about, uh, you know..." I mumbled. His expression remains neutral. He nodded, signalling that he knew what I meant. "I was just wondering if you'd be able to keep it a secret, from James and the others..." I fidgeted nervously. "Yeah, of course, kid." He said, smiling sympathetically. He took a bite from his cheeseburger.
After a few minutes, the waitress placed the burger in front of me. I felt my stomach drop. I did not have the money for this. "Uh, Michael? It was nice of you to order a burger for me. But um, I can't pay for this." I blushed, embarrassed. "What? Oh, no no. Don't worry. I'll be paying, of course." He seemed hurt that I didn't expect him to. Of course, he'd pay. He's loaded. "You really didn't have to-"
"Nonsense! You're my son." He interrupted. I nodded and smiled. "Well, thank you. I appreciate it, a lot." I dug in. I tried to distract myself from dark thoughts. I wasn't your son a few hours ago.
We ate in silence. It was a nice feeling, having someone to eat with. Well, it was once I pushed down all the bitter emotions that surfaced when I thought of how he abandoned me but kept my siblings. Whom I was going to live with in 48 hours.
But, suddenly, I felt this overwhelming sadness. Like I had just realised the reality of the situation, and I couldn't help but feel so overbearingly sad. I guess it must've shown on my face, because Michael frowned deeply, then asked, "is everything okay?"
I nodded and forced my face into neutrality. I couldn't even fake a smile. I cleared my throat and excused myself. "I'll be right back, I need to use the restroom." I got up. My knees barely held my weight as I made my way past a couple and a few waiters. I splashed my face with water. I felt tears start to form. Fuck. I stared at my reflection on the dirty mirror. My eyes were red. I washed my face, and dried it with tissues.
I needed to recompose myself. I took a deep breath in, and walked back to the table. Michael had already finished his cheeseburger. I was only halfway through mine. I was a slow eater.
"Hope I didn't take too long." I smiled as I sat back down. "You didn't." Michael smiled back, but he seemed a little distant. Oh, great. I've upset him. "S-something wrong?" I stuttered. His eyes met mine, and they were filled with sadness. "Not at all." He forced a smile. I forced a smile back. He watched me silently as I ate my burger.
"Michael, I'm sure you're a busy man. Being a lawyer, and all. And I have loads of homework to do..." I trailed off, almost puking my guts out from my anxiety. "Yeah, sure. I'll just pay the check and drop you off." He smiled softly. He asked the waitress for the bill, left a massive tip, and got up. "C'mon." He said. I got up and we walked toward his large car.
The car ride back was just as awkward as the car ride to the diner.