“What’s the Lone Star?” Elle asks, eyeing me for a moment and sensing my unease.
“It’s just a bar that Tommy and I used to hang out at during our college days, doll,” I say nervously, pushing my food around my plate.
“Yeah, it’s just a hole in the wall. It’s nothing like that place in Boston,” Tommy jokes, throwing me a lifeline. “Right, Juju?”
“Sure, sure.” She waves her hands dismissively.
“I’d still like to check it out if we have time,” Elle responds guardedly, cocking her head slightly to the side.
“If you really want,” I say, planting a kiss on her forehead. I inconspicuously look up and shoot Juju an irritated look. My sister is supposed to help me out, and here she is throwing me under the bus. What the hell?
There’s a knock at the front door, which couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. Eager to step away from the conversation, I set my fork down, wipe my hands and rise from the table, almost knocking my chair to the floor. “Are you expecting anyone, Momma?” I toss over my shoulder.
“No, everyone is present and accounted for.”
I turn the corner, sucking in a sign of relief before yanking open the front door. My breath catches in my throat, and I grasp the door frame for support. No one has ever knocked the wind out of me like this, not even on the football field. Why couldn’t it be a neighbor standing in front of me with a fruit basket or a mailman with a special delivery? Perhaps I should have stayed at the table and let someone else answer the door. The lesser of two evils does not apply in this particular situation.
“Uh... hi,” I stutter, unable to mouth the words. I didn’t expect to see him at all. I know I should have made the time, but I was postponing it. He pulls off his sunglasses, and apart from the obvious wrinkles on his face, it’s like I’m looking in a mirror. We share the same blue eyes, cheekbones, and dark brown hair but nothing else. No memories. He took away part of our childhood, leaving us without knowing what it was like to have a father and leaving Momma without a husband. It both angers and saddens me with a fucking bundle of emotions that I can’t untangle, that I can never figure out. I just want to let it go, but I fucking don’t know how.
“Hey, Son. Happy Thanksgiving. I just came by to give your mom this rum cake,” he says through a cracking voice. I notice his shaking hands as he gives me the box. Unable to look me in the eye, he drops his eyes to the ground and clears his throat.
“Thanks.” My ability to speak has damn near vanished with his appearance. What do you say to a father you barely even know?
How ‘bout them Cowboys?
“Cake!” Jaxson yells, running to the door. “Can I have some?” he begs, taking the box from my hands.
“Who is it, Reed?” My mom turns the corner, catching her breath when she sees who’s standing with me. “Hello,” she breathes. “What are you doing here, Tim?” I step back as my mom approaches.
“I just came by to drop off this cake before I head over to my brother’s house.” He inwardly laughs as he points at Jaxson, sitting on the floor with the box on his lap.
“Thank you,” Momma replies, smiling down at Jaxson.
I don’t know whether I should stay or go. I have things to say, but the words aren’t coming out. “Are you going to be all right?” I ask, listening to the laughter in the other room. Momma touches my arm and nods her head, letting me know that everything’s fine.
“Sure, hon. I’ll just be a minute.” My mom brushes the hair back away from her face and returns her attention to my father.
“Nice seeing you, Son.”
“Sure, take care,” I reply with a forced smile. I slip my hands into the pockets of my jeans and turn to leave when Elle enters the room.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, looking past me toward my mom and dad.
“My mom just has a visitor.” I can tell from the look on her face that she knows it’s more than just a visitor; you can’t deny the damn resemblance.
I called my father. I needed to talk to him. Now that my mother has made amends, I feel it’s time for me to get past the hurt of my childhood and the damage he inflicted on our family. After speaking with Elle about it, she supported my decision like I knew she would.
Juju took Elle and Momma for a day of shopping, so I could do what I couldn’t do on Thanksgiving with all my family around. Both my father and I made the best of an awkward situation. We did not get to say the things we wanted to say that day. I want to leave Texas knowing that I made atonement with everyone, especially him.
I pull up the newly paved driveway that leads to the apartment complex. It’s a five-story beige building with large maple and oak trees lining the sidewalk. There are a couple of boys playing catch with a football and a little girl jumping rope on the sidewalk when I drive around the front.
I park the truck, place my hands on top of the steering wheel and rest my head on top of them. I close my eyes for several minutes and think about what I’m going to say to him, assuming it will make it easier, but instead it only makes me nervous. I just have to verbalize what I feel in my heart.
The security guard at the desk signs me in, and I head up to the second floor and follow the arrows to unit seven, my lucky number. I wonder if that was intentional on his part. I knock on the black glossy door and notice the peephole change color when someone peeks out. I hear a couple of chains and locks unlatch from behind the door. I feel like something is eating my insides, my hands are clammy and the edges of my face heat. I nervously run my hand through my hair and glance down the hall and then back at the door.
“Hey, Son, come in. I’m glad you came,” he says opening the door. He’s wearing a dark blue dress shirt with one button undone and some dark blue jeans with brown cowboy boots. He heads back inside, looking over his shoulder like he’s making sure I won’t change my mind and bolt.
“Hi,” is all I can muster since I don’t know what to call him.
Dad? Tim?
I pause and look past him into the apartment and take a step inside. The place smells woodsy with a hint of cinnamon. I follow him down the narrow hallway, passing the tiny kitchen on the right and into the living room.
“Have a seat.” He motions to a blue sofa that faces the patio that overlooks a green, expansive courtyard where I can now see the two boys have moved their game of catch.
“I’m not going to stay too long. I know you have to work and all,” I say, returning my attention to him as I lower myself onto the sofa.
“I don’t have to be at work for a couple of hours,” he replies as he heads into the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink?” he calls out.
“No, I’m fine,” I say as I look around the living room and notice pictures of Juju and me. Several of them are of me playing football, school pictures and other random shots taken of birthdays and family gatherings in which he was never a part. I’m angry that he has these pictures displayed in his house when he could have been at every one of these events, but he chose to drink himself into a fucking stupor instead. I have to remind myself that I came here to forgive him and give him a second chance.
“I changed my hours, so we would have enough time to chat.” He sets down a couple of glasses of water onto the glass coffee table, sits in the chair opposite me and leans forward, rubbing his hands on his thighs nervously. The silence that falls upon us for a few minutes is thick and uncomfortable. He starts to say something as he clears his throat and looks me steady in the eye. “I know you suffered because of me,” he utters, scrubbing his face with his hands.
I hesitate, searching for the words on how to express the pain I felt as a boy when he abandoned us and how I’ve come to terms with it now as a man. “I’m not angry with you anymore, but I can’t say that it still doesn’t hurt,” I admit, balling my hands in front of me.
“I understand that, Son. I live with the regret every day of my life.” He glances toward the courtyard where the sun has now appeared. “When I see kids playing out there, I picture Juju and you. I hope you had that as children and I wish I had been there to see it, to be a good father to you and Juju and a good husband to your mom.”
“What you couldn’t give to me as my father, Momma gave me a million times over as a mother, but I’m not here to dwell on the past.” I freeze and swallow loudly.
“Your mom has been a great help in getting me through this tough time, even though she has her own troubles. She’s strong in so many ways, stronger than me. I’ve always known that. That’s why it was so easy to fall in love with her. I took her and everything she gave me—two beautiful children and her love—all for granted.” His last comment is barely a whisper, forcing me to strain to hear it. He grabs the glass of water with an unsteady hand and takes a long drink. His eyes brim with regret and unshed tears. “I’ve paid for my mistakes many times over.”
I struggle with my own emotions while sitting here, seeing my dad this way and admitting his faults. We do have some things in common in all of this, a strong woman by our side that we love, but the only difference is that I caught myself early. I will not make the same mistakes he did. I will not take Elle or anything in my life for granted.
“I came here to tell you.” I pause and swallow loudly, not realizing just how difficult this was going to be. “I forgive you because I want to. I don’t want to live the rest of my life hating you and not knowing you. We all make mistakes; it just takes some people longer to realize them.”
It feels amazing to finally speak the words and to see the smile cross my dad’s worn features. He’s had a hard life, and if letting him know I forgive him lifts the burden from his heart and mine, then that’s all I want. I gaze out the window and swallow the lump in my throat. I opened the door, and I’m letting him in little by little. I stare at him as so many things run through my head, things I want and need to say. Silence hangs in the air as I wring my hands, trying to contain my nerves. “I’m in love with someone, and she means everything to me,” I reveal.
“Her name is Elle,” he says with a smile, eyeing her name tattooed on my forearm.
“Yes.”
“Son, it’s obvious that she means a great deal to you. She’s a special girl. You protect her.”
“I am and I will. I’ve fallen for her in every way.”
“When you feel that kind of love for one person, you hold on. Hold on like she is your last breath and like you are hers. There is nothing more powerful, Son. Nothing.”
Elle is having hard time leaving. Her eyes give her away. She hugs my mother and Juju a little longer and jokes with Tommy more than necessary before we board the plane. My chest tightens. I glance around the airport and cringe, hearing the rumble of the planes overhead. I rub my face, anxiously dreading this flight home. I had hoped Elle could work her magic again on the way back, but noticing the sweatpants, I’m thinking I’m shit out of luck. But, who knows, she may have a surprise wardrobe change inside her carry-on. I won’t put anything past her these days; I’m enjoying her kinky side.
“Baby,” my momma whispers. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yes.” I say, grabbing her for a hug. I hold her delicate body against my chest and kiss the top of her head. I catch Elle’s watery eyes as she picks up her carry-on and approaches me. Momma pulls away from me and smiles at Elle, wrapping her arm around her waist and kissing her on the cheek.
“I know you’ll take care of each other. I’ve seen enough in the past few days between the two of you that I don’t have to worry.”
“I will. I promise.” Elle’s voice falters as she blinks rapidly, holding her tears at bay.
“Guys, you’re going to miss your flight if you don’t get a move on. Not that I want you to leave, I just know you got some lose ends to tie up in Boston,” Tommy exclaims, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Or, maybe you’re just postponing the inevitable.”
“One of these days I’m going to get over this fear of mine, and you’ll have nothing on me.”
“Dude, I’m a betting man, and I wouldn’t put any money on that happening anytime soon.” He shoots me a cocky grin.
“I love you, too.” I smirk, shrugging his hand off my shoulder. He laughs and grabs Juju to his chest.