I sit in the carriage paralyzed by fear as I near the estate. The place I should happily call home but only make me nauseous. I don't want to go home, I don't want to see my father, what will he say? what will he do? I really do not know but anyway. I arrive. Frances is waiting for me. I take off my hat and hug her. 'They're waiting for you.' she says happily. I used too much perfume, now you don't smell the alcohol but I smell like an overwhelmed rose garden. 'Of course they are' I say bitterly. She smiles but I know I've hurt her with that comment. I smile. 'I'm happy to see them again' Her face lights up and she runs back into the mansion. I take a deep breath. There my mama stands, she hugs me, her embrace is warm and motherly, the one you'd give to your kid before telling them their grandmother is dead. 'At last the wayward son returns.' he says. He hugs me. I am utterly confused by that. 'Is that supposed to be an insult?' I ask. I feel the hug getting tighter and tighter. 'Father, please release me.' he doesn't listen. I break out of the embrace and walk quickly to my room.
I grab a bottle of whiskey. I can't find the key to lock my room. Why did I feel like I wasn't able to breathe when I was near him? Am I that scared of him? I don't get why you would almost kill your child and the next time you see him you want to hug him. Is that normal? I don't know, perhaps he has seen the errors of his ways. I laugh to myself, that wouldn't be possible, he's my father. He isn't wrong, even when he is, he will never be. I drink the glass of whiskey in one time. I immediately pour myself another. I hear Frances voice saying my name. 'Get out.' I say sharply but still politely. 'Yves.' 'Leave, please.' I say again. She knows it's better to listen. What have I done, this was a stupid idea. Akiva said it was too early, he said I wouldn't be able to handle my anger. why is he right? Is it a self-fulfilling prophecy? I hope it is.
'Yves?' I turn around. It's the heavy voice of my father. I put the bottle of whiskey down. I do not turn around. 'I want to fix this." 'I've talked to your mother and sister and we want to be a family, a proper one this time.' I scoff and chuckle. 'And you just decide that, out of the blue?' 'Yes.' 'Do you think, you, of all people, would even be capable or that?' 'I hope I would.' 'Listen to me fat father, I have given you a lot of second chances. Maybe I'm even willing to give you an extra one but not because you ask it." 'Why not, we could be perfect, we could could be better.' I feel tears of anger in my eyes. 'NO! NOT BECAUSE YOU SUDDENLY DECIDED THAT!' 'You're being selfish' He says and I explode. I throw a glass towards his head. 'No, No, NO, YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE MY LIFE NOT WHEN AND WHY I FORGIVE YOU! IF I EVEN WANT TO FIX THINGS' The glass doesn't hit is head by ten cm. He is visibly shocked. 'I didn't mean it that way.' 'OF COURSE YOU DIDN'T MEAN IT THAT WAY, YOU NEVER MEAN IT THAT WAY RIGHT? MY FRACTURED RIBS. THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING! YOU DON'T JUST GET TO DECIDE WHEN I AM ALRIGHT, I HAVE A MIND OF MY OWN AND FATHER, I am not okay.' I feel my anger making place for tears I haven't cried for a long time. The tears of my childhood. I am embarrassed by it and sit down in the chair when I feel a hand on my shoulder. 'I'm sorry.' I nod. 'There, there?' I nod again. 'I get that it won't be easy my son, but with little steps could accomplish something. Maybe we could even remotely respect each other, or even like each other.' I sniff. 'Don't push it.' I say. He laughs, I haven't seen that for a long time.