MY FATHER DIDN'T even make it for dinner. He called right after Jennifer set the table to say it he was stuck at the office. Something about trying to obtain some lucrative land so he can build another neighborhood of McMansions.
That's why I was surprised when he knocked at my door at 11pm to demand I meet him in his office for a talk in half an hour. He didn't outright demand, but he requested it in his usual dominating tone. It's the same tone he uses to obtain things he wants, like a piece of lucrative land.
I think I've spent the moments afterwards completely spaced out, which is why Summer shakes me and looks from her laptop with concern.
"Don't think too much into it. This is a step that needed to be taken years ago. I think you'll both feel much better afterwards," she says and reaches over the kiss my forehead.
Her words don't soothe my nerves but I nod anyways just to ease her concern.
She's working on her homework again, something she's done every free chance she's gotten since we've been here. I never thought nursing was an easy major, but damn, a lot of work goes into keeping up with the material. Makes me glad I choose business.
At least we were able to work through our little situation earlier. Obviously, I'm bummed she can't bring herself to say she loves me back, but it's complicated, we're complicated. I meant what I said to her, when she finds the ability to say it one day, it would be great. If she can never reciprocate it, at least I'll know I held up my end of our promise.
That's a possible problem for the future, for now, I have more pressing concerns.
I have to drag myself downstairs to my dad's home office. Even though the door is left ajar I still knock anyways. I see Jennifer lean down to give my dad a kiss then hurry past me with a sympathetic smile I don't return.
"Come in, son." He bellows from his desk.
I blow out a breathe and stare at my feet as I enter and close the door behind me. I almost reach back over to reopen it just for the comfort of a quick exit.
"Well, take a seat," he says, ushering towards the two chairs set in front of his oak desk.
I fall into the seat and run my hand through my hair. God, do I wish I'd decided to stay at school.
Silence takes over and I steer my eyes towards the family photo hung on the wall. The framed photo of dad, Jennifer, and Mila smiling happily in matching white outfits. I'm not in the photo, of course. The invitation was sent, I just didn't feel the need to accept it. What did I look like faking such an image?
Now as I look at it, I feel this irritation build up. I can't take my eyes off of my dad's frozen smile. I stare at it like I want to shame him into turning it into a frown. He's succeeded alright, he's replaced us. Me and my mom.
"Son," he says, snapping me away from his smiling photo to his present face, which is to my wish, is turned into a frown.
"You've been coming to my games?" I ask flat out.
His eyes widen. "Well, yes. Of course I have."
My knee bobs up and down. I don't know why, I'm not a nervous knee bobber, that's Summer's quirk. Despite that I can't stop it. "I mean, what's your deal?"
"What's my deal?" He looks taken aback. "My deal is I'm your father and I'm going to support you. What is your gripe with me? Get it out once and for all."
There it goes. I clench my jaw, shooting him a poisonous look as red-hot anger envelopes me.
"My gripe?" My voice rises. "My gripe is that I lost two parents at the same time. When mom died, you basically died with her. You gave me no support, no guidance on how to get through that grief. I was lost, I was out of my mind and I needed my dad, but you were too busy working to care. Do you know how much it hurt coming home from school to the babysitter? Trying to call you to say I got home safe and only getting your voicemail? All I wanted was to hear your voice, to hear you say you cared about me and were coming home and I couldn't even get that. After the fifth call, I went for your liquor cabinet and after the tenth, I went for a joint. It's your fault, I blame you."
His mouth opens and he looks down at his hands, but he doesn't say anything. He's thinking, gathering his thoughts. We have that in common, I guess.
I'm not done just yet though, I still have more to say. "That's not even the worst part. I thought, hey, my dad is just an emotionally damaged person and he's gonna spend the rest of his life grieving but no, that wasn't the case. You show up with Jennifer five years later all happy and in love, while still ignoring my existence. Ignoring my clear struggles. That cut so much deeper. That's when I moved onto harder drugs. I didn't have a present dad, but at least I had my partying friends."
After a moment he speaks up. "You have a problem with Jennifer?"
"I have no problem with Jennifer. It's you that I have a problem with, it's always been you." I feel exasperated. I'm laying things right in front of him and he's still trying to bypass me.
"You are absolutely right. It's my fault," he says, slumping his shoulders and looking overall dejected. "I wasn't there, there's no question about that. I just want you to see where I'm coming from."
I won't lie, I didn't expect to hear him say this. I expected this conversation to be a fight, I expected him to continue not to take accountability.
"I've been going to therapy," he says, surprising me even more. "This hasn't just been some spur of the moment attempt at a reconciliation, I've been working for a while to get to this. You see, your abuelo was a very tough man, and he was a tough father. There was no showing affection in his world, especially to his boys. We needed to be tough too if we were going to be real men and provide for our future families. I hated that growing up, so I promised myself to be different when I had my own."
"With you and your mother, I had everything set. I loved her and us, more than anything. But when she received her diagnosis, my father's old lectures started to kick in. I felt like it was my fault that she got sick, because I wasn't a tough enough man. I didn't take care of us sufficiently, I didn't work enough to make the money so she could receive the best treatment out there. When she passed away." He chokes.
"When she passed away, I became a shell of myself. I wasn't there for you because I didn't know how to be there for myself. And it didn't help that you have her eyes, her smile. You are the greatest thing she left behind and I couldn't handle the reminder. It's awful and disgusting, but it's true. I was a coward and by the time I got through my cowardice, it was too late. I let our relationship become too strained to the point where I didn't think it could ever be recovered. I didn't think you'd ever forgive me. So I decided to give you space and support from afar. Now I don't want to do that anymore. I need to step up once and for all and be the father you've needed from the beginning. If you'll let me."
He bows his head, signifying he's done with his speech.
I'm not used to this vulnerability with him, I don't like the taste of it on my tongue. I'm getting the answers I've wanted, but it's like my brain is overloaded with thoughts and I'm uncomfortable as hell.
I just don't know what to do.
"I-I need some air. I need to get out of this room." I rise out of my seat and charge out of the door before I can see my father's reaction.
The instant I'm out of his office I'm gasping for my breathe, and rushing to the back patio for more oxygen.
I hate this feeling. Why can't I just be normal and forgive my dad and move on? Why does everything have to be so hard?
I lean against the patio railing and lower my head into my arms.
A hand lands on my shoulder and I wish it was Summer, but I can tell from the size that I'm not so fortune.
"Carter... son, are you okay?" My dads voice is soft, a calm sound usually only reserved for Mila.
As soon as I lift my head he engulfs me into a hug. I try to fight it off, I try to fight him off, but it's no use. I crumble in his arms despite my bigger size and superior strength.
"I miss her, dad. I miss her so much." This half sob is the closest I've gotten to tearing up in years. The most outward emotion I've allowed myself to have for my family in awhile.
"I know, I miss her too. Every second of every day."
We stay in this position for what feels like eternity. I hate it as much as I need it. When we break apart, he pats me on the head, which used to be his only sign of affection with me. This time it doesn't feel so empty.
"You really have been going to therapy." I half laugh.
He joins me with the same sound. "It's done wonders."
I hate to admit it, but I do feel lighter. Something has broken down between us and I feel slightly more comfortable in his presence.
"I don't know what to do. How do we go from here?" I say.
"Well, this is just the start. It's not going to be an easy journey. I'd like you to join us back here for summer break. We can begin with you accompanying me to some therapy sessions and I'd like you to have a therapist of your own. Just give me the summer, that's all I ask of you." He pleads with sincerity, with the force and care I've wanted him to have for me since I was ten.
I answer with my heart before my brain. "I'll give you the summer."
"Yeah, you will?" He asks with disbelief.
"Don't make me change my mind." I joke.
"With all my heart I hope you don't."
I look into his face and see a reflection of myself. For the first time, it makes me smile. Like he said, this is going to be a journey. I think I'm ready to take it.