“Mmm…..where are you going?” a sleepy voice from the bed asked. Damn – I either moved around too much or made too much noise trying to get up. “Bathroom, and cigarette.” I reponded. “Don’t forget to…” “..go outside, yeah, I know.” I leaned over from the edge of the bed and gave her a kiss before moving into my chair, finding first my smokes and then heading to the bathroom to take care of business.
I was lucky, and I knew it. Now, anyway. I was too angry and sorry for myself before – so much so that I refused to let anyone help me after I ran away for fear that my Dad would be notified. Then I met Charles, who promised no one would be contacted, and he helped me – actually cared enough to notice my addiction and notice I couldn’t read. And of course, through him, I met her.
I looked back over to the bed as I exited the bathroom. She had fallen back asleep, blond hair spilled across the pillow as she lay on her side. I was lucky to have her, especially. We were roommates initially, sure…but now I think we were something more. We’d only fucked once – ever since it was more cuddling and being intimate in other ways. I’d finally figured out (after she’d had a talk with me) that things weren’t awkward between us – she was just trying to give me space to process.
I owed her so much – and that’s why I reached for the coffee table where my phone lay, picked it up and turned it on, waiting roughly five minutes before heading outside for my smoke. I didn’t know how else to get a hold of the bastard, but Trish didn’t deserve to live in fear that he was watching the house, all because of my stubborn ass.
As soon as I got outside, I parked my chair and stuck the cigarette in my mouth and lit it. I smoked slowly, and maybe a third of the cig was gone by the time he showed up. I couldn’t decipher the look on his face – it seemed at once relieved and angry. Great. I was not looking forward to this at all, but I felt like I owed it to the people who were actually bothering to give a damn about me.
“Dad.”
“Joseph.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Sorry. Chance then.”
“Better.”
“I didn’t think you were ever going to let me find you.”
“I’d debated it.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Run. Defy me. Any of it.”
I took a long drag of my cig before staring at him for several minutes. Was he serious? Was he really so dense as to not know why I wanted nothing to do with him?
“For starters, Dad, look at the life I’ve had, ok? It hasn’t been a great one. The best years of my life were when I lived with the Morrison’s – I may not have the best memory, but I do remember some of those years, before I was taken away when I was 4 and put back into mom’s custody. How you could let that happen, I’ll never understand.”
“Your mother had a better lawyer, for starters, and I suspect she’d been sleeping with the judge, but I can’t prove that.”
I snorted. “Figures.”
Dad gave me the side-eye for a minute but didn’t say anything for a minute. “I had visitation. I paid child support.”
“Well assuming you actually did, I never saw anything come from it. I got pitied on a lot in those six years I lived with mom. She couldn’t see past her next fix or her next lay – often both. If it weren’t for neighbors or the Morrison’s checking on my welfare from time to time I would have starved. Again.”
I knew it would be a slap in the face to add again to that statement, but I couldn’t help it. Those years with mom were rough, and I don’t know that I could ever properly convey that to him. Maybe not to anyone.
“I made sure you were vaccinated. That you got into school. I made sure the important shit got done.” he snapped.
“Feeding and clothing me wasn’t important?” I snapped back.
He sighed. “Nevermind. I got custody of you eventually, didn’t I?”
“Only because mom got her ass killed.” I retorted. Things were getting nowhere, and I was about ready to give up.
“That doesn’t change the fact that I still got custody; that I took care of you better than she did.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you were never there!” I yelled, finally reaching my breaking point.
“What are you talking about?”
“If you were there, if you had been paying attention, you would have seen somethign was wrong, maybe even noticed what that something was. But no – you were working all the fucking time. For fuck’s sake Dad, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have run into traffic. Furthermore, you fucked the aide that was supposed to help me – while she was on duty! What the fuck, who does that?”
I leaned over and stabbed the cigarette out into the sand filled coffee can that had been placed there for me and my habit.
“Just fucking forget it. I’ll be eighteen soon, then you can’t stop me from living my life.”
“I don’t want to keep you from living your life. I just want to be part of it. But look at things from my perspective too, alright? You were a wild child – always getting into trouble. You and Chris, always getting arrested. Skipping school when you wanted – generally being out at all hours with me having no idea where you were, what you were up to – if you were hurt or if you were okay…”
He trailed off as the door clicked and then swung open, revealing Trish. She’d put some shorts on to come to the door. We must’ve woken her up, and I felt like shit for it. I spoke up before Dad could.
“Sorry Trish. Didn’t mean to wake you.” I mumbled my words though.
My Dad followed up with “Sorry miss.”
“You two are getting loud, and you’re going to wake up the neighbors. Besides, it’s hot out here. Why don’t you come inside, I can put on some coffee, or get some water or whatever.” she said, eyeing us both. I could tell she was unhappy about having been woken up, but beyond that there was concern – both in her face and in her voice.
“You sure?” she nodded, and stepped aside and held the door so I could make my way in with the chair. My Dad waited until I was inside, before coming in himself.
“Please, have a seat.” she said to my Dad, indicating the sofa. He nodded and sat down, while I maneuvered my chair and parked it. “Coffee?” she asked. Dad shook his head. “Water would be fine.” She looked at me. “Soda’s fine. Could use the caffeine.” she nodded, heading into the kitchen and returning with two soda’s and a bottle of water, and handed off the drinks before sitting in the armchair.
“Before you two start bickering again,” she started “I want to let you know I heard what I assume is a good portion of what you two were talking about – so no need to catch me up, assuming you felt that need. What I can tell you is I think there is animosity on both sides. But, umm….what was your name again?”
“David.”
“David should continue with what he was going to say. Chance, be patient, you can have your say again, okay?”
I nodded, and just waited for my Dad to continue. Maybe having a mediator wasn’t a bad idea, but I couldn’t help but think that Trish shouldn’t have been thrust into this position. Dad picked up from where he’d left off.
“You don’t think I know I caused you to run off the night of your accident? I live with that guilt every damn day. I took care of the paperwork, the insurance…all of that crap, and tried to arrange so you could get the care you deserve. I admit I screwed up with the one aide – and for that I’m sorry. I can’t be sorry enough. When you took off six months ago, I flipped. I didn’t know what had happened to you or where you had gone – I did the only thing I knew to do and that was to go to the police and try to track your phone. I didn’t get a hit until recently, that’s why I came here – that, and the police had no leads, after six months.”
He turned to Trish then. “I’m sorry if I worried or frightened you by watching the house. Hopefully you can understand why. But I extend my sincerest apologies.”
I eyed him. A rather insecure part of me wondered if he was trying to hit on her, but I tried to stuff that insecurity back in its box.
“Apology accepted. I have an overprotective father myself, so I think I can understand where both of you are coming from, if you can believe that. I think…” she trailed off for a minute, then took a drink. “I think the two of you need to sit down and hash this out, and I’m not qualified to oversee that. Fortunately, Chance and I both know someone who is, and I don’t think he’d mind a call. It’s only midnight after all, and he works late anyway.”
She could have only meant Charles. I nodded – I trusted Charles.
“You both trust this individual?” my Dad asked. We both nodded. “Then go ahead.” She picked up the phone then, and called Charles.
“Charles? I could use your help, if you get the chance. I’ve got Chance and his Dad both here at my place, and they’re talking – which is good – but I can’t help but feel they need an actual counselor to help hash things out together. You up for it tonight? Or are you up to at least arranging to meet with the both of them? I can be around to help temper the situation, if you feel it necessary.”