: Chapter 32

WE’VE BEEN SITTING ON THIS picnic bench for five minutes and neither of us has spoken yet.

He looks better than last time I saw him, but not being in a hospital bed covered in wires will do that to a person. I knew it was too good to be true. I knew the silence wouldn’t last long, but I must admit, I never expected him to turn up here.

“I don’t know where to start, Russ,” he says.

I can’t remember the last time we sat in a normal setting together. I wish I knew how many minutes it is until he leaves so I can count them down.

“Why don’t you start by telling me why you’re here,” I say harshly.

I’m not someone who often gets angry, but there’s something about being around my dad that makes me emotional. It’s like I have to become a different person to be able to cope with being around him.

“A lot has happened since we last saw each other. Your mother went through my cell phone and saw how much I’ve been hiding from her. She understands now how bad things are, how terribly I’ve been treating people, treating you. She kicked me out.”

I’m stunned. “Why don’t I know about this?”

“Because she said we should allow you to enjoy your summer without us ruining it. Me ruining it. I wanted to call on your birthday, apologize for everything I’ve done, but she told me not to. She said that you deserve time and space to heal from the damage that I’ve done to our family.”

I don’t say anything at first. I don’t know if it’s because he’s caught me so off guard I’m not sure what to say, or if my instincts are telling me to wait for the other shoe to drop. For him to reveal what his true intentions are.

“So why are you here now? I don’t have any money for you and you can’t stay with me. There isn’t anything I can give you.”

“I don’t want anything, Russ,” he says. “I’m just here to talk. I think we can agree that I’ve taken enough from you already. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, burned a lot of bridges. I regret a lot of things, but there’s nothing that I regret more than the hurt I’ve caused you, your mom, and your brother.”

I know all humans have flaws, and my dad lives every day knowing he’s shown every single one of his.

I know my experience isn’t the blueprint. It isn’t the cookie-cutter version of how things go. I’ve listened to the people whose parents were so attentive, so loving, so riddled with guilt for their actions that they never knew anything was wrong. My anger isn’t toward people with addiction issues. I’ve looked at the statistics, read the case studies, heard the heart-wrenching personal tales of struggle, and I’ve felt empathy. See, logical right?

My heart has always told me to say fuck logic. My dad shouldn’t have let it beat him; he should have fought harder. Not because he’s better than anyone else fighting invisible demons, but because he’s my dad. He’s mine and I needed him and he didn’t try and he didn’t even care. He served himself, his desires, and his impulses and he kept serving himself until the anger and the regret and the resentment came like a tsunami—and when he let the waves engulf him, he dragged us all down with him.

I clear my throat, staring him directly in the eyes. I’m not a scared kid anymore, I don’t need to shrink in front of him. “I still don’t understand why you’re here, Dad.”

“The last time you saw me, you told me to sort my shit out. I wanted to see you in person to tell you that that’s what I’m going to do. I know that you probably don’t believe me, or maybe things are so far gone that you don’t care. But I am going to fix things. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want my family back. I want my life back. I want to be someone you can look up to again.”

I should be excited that he’s finally saying the things I’ve wanted to hear for so long. That he wants to change. That he knows things are bad. That he knows he’s hurt people. But all I can think about is how it’s a lot of words, said in the right order in a way that makes them feel real, but he’s always been good at that. That’s why it’s taken until now for Mom to see the light.

There’s a fine balance between dedication and desperation sometimes, and that’s how I know Dad’s at the place the books call rock bottom. Addiction is a disease, a losing game. Everyone knows the house always wins. It might not be this hand, or even the next one. It might take one horse race or twenty. It might be that one last roll of the dice, but eventually the house will come to collect, and when they cash out there will be nothing left.

I don’t think Dad has anything left, and the realization makes my anger subside a little. “I hope you get it back, Dad. I do, honestly. But you can’t just declare you’re going to change; you have to act. You have to make a conscious effort to seek help and remove the temptations from your life.”

“I will,” he says adamantly.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

Rubbing my fingers against my temple, I try not to sigh because I don’t want him to think I’m dismissing him. “There are programs for people like you; I’ve read about them. They’re anonymous and they’re free. You should look into it; there’s always fliers on bulletin boards around town.”

“I will. I’ll look as soon as I get back. Look, Russ, I know I haven’t been the person you deserve. You’ve had to work harder, sacrifice more, struggle alone all because I wouldn’t fight my demons. I can’t change the past, but I can make sure it doesn’t happen again. If there’s help out there, I want to find it.”

I think he’s waiting for me to make a huge declaration of how it’s all going to be okay and how I trust and believe he’s going to get better, but I’m not going to believe it until I see it with my own eyes. I hope with everything that he’s serious, but it feels too good to be true right now. A small part of me worries that I’m too far gone to forgive him, that everyone will move on and I’ll be stuck in the past, still hurt beneath the surface.

Can a person really get everything they want? I’ve spent years struggling alone, and in such a short time things have changed so much.

Sharing my feelings has worked so far this summer, which encourages me to be honest with Dad. “It would be nice to feel like a family again. If you could get better, I wouldn’t find it so difficult to be around you. Your unpredictable moods make me anxious.”

He nods, his eyes watering. He looks like he’s going to say something more, but instead he taps his fist against the table twice and stands. “I’m going to get out of your hair. This place is beautiful. Are you enjoying working here?”

I nod. “I love it.”

“I’m proud of you, Russ. You’re building a great life for yourself despite what I’ve put you through.” He looks like he’s going to lean in and hug me, but he doesn’t, instead holding out his hand for me to shake. “I’ll see you soon, son.”

“Bye, Dad.”

I SIT ALONE AT THE picnic table for another twenty minutes. Thinking, processing, wondering if this could really be the start of the change I’ve been desperate for.

Eventually, I remember myself and head to find Jenna. It feels like there’s been more drama today than there has been the whole summer combined.

I know I fucked up and I know that Jenna has every right to fire me for what she saw, but I hope she won’t. Earlier, I thought being caught was the worst thing that could possibly happen to me at camp. But then my dad made an unplanned visit, and suddenly that was the worst thing that could possibly happen to me at camp. Facing Jenna now feels a hell of a lot less scary.

As I knock on the door to her office, I realize a smart person would’ve kept out of the way and hoped for the best. I don’t appear to be a smart person anymore. But I’m not going to be able to function if I’m waiting around, wondering if I’m about to get told to pack my bags and leave.

“Nice to see you with your clothes on,” she says when I walk into her office.

The heat immediately rushes to my cheeks and ears. “I’ve been trying to think of something I could say that might explain why I knowingly ignored the rules, but I don’t have a good enough excuse and I don’t want to waste your time.” She folds her arms across her chest and sits back in her chair, staring at me with a look of defiance. “I never expected someone like Aurora to even look in my direction, but she has, and I’m going to cling on to that with both hands. I know you love her, Jenna. All I want to do is make her happy.”

“You can’t make her happy and also keep your pants on?” she says. “This is a place of work, not a frat house.”

“I’ve spent my life trying to stick to the rules. I’ve kept my head down, kept my stories and secrets and done my best to carry around my baggage alone. She makes me not want to be alone anymore. I’m sorry I broke the rules, but I don’t regret it, and I’d do it again if it meant I could do it with her. I’m grateful for the opportunity your family has given me, but I’m more grateful for her.”

“Y’all stress me out so much, I swear.” Jenna rubs her temples and groans loudly. “Every day I want you to think about what you’re grateful for in life. Every single day. If she’s ever not on your list, I want you to work out why and fix it. If you’re not treating her like she’s the best thing to ever happen to you, you don’t deserve her. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“She has a big heart, but it’s bruised. When you spend a long time self-destructing, sometimes your pieces don’t fit back together quite right. She’s gonna need time and patience.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now get out. Go do your job so I can forget about this.”

“I’m not fired?”

“For now.” She waves me off with a hand. “And Russ, I have a million places to bury a body if you break her heart. We have acres you don’t even know about. They’d never find you.”

Jenna is kind of terrifying and I wholeheartedly believe her. “Noted.”