Chapter 84
FIVE YEARS BEFORE
C hristmas time in the Hunt household always felt like an odd occasion for me.
It was the one time of the year when everyone’s presence, even Edwin’s, made me feel like we were a real family. In other ways, though, it reminded me of the fact that I didn’t have an actual family.
Edwin never bothered to include me in anything; whether it was decorating the Christmas tree, partaking in choir at our family’s church, or just being a part of the conversation, he never really did so. Mrs. Hunt did so, and Morgan did, but I was invisible to Edwin.
And yet it was the one time of the year when I knew Edwin would be there, smiling, hugging, and kissing his wife and his biological son.
His cheer naturally made other people more comfortable around the house.
It was in moments like these that I wished I had known my real parents for a Christmas like this.
Normally, I didn’t think much about my parents.
As far as I was concerned, since they had put me up for adoption, they had lost the right to have my care and thoughts.
But Christmas’ emphasis on spending time with family always made me wonder where they were; were they far from me?
Were they just a few neighborhoods away? What were their backgrounds?
They had at least given me some intellect.
I had the smarts to match Morgan in class; I wasn’t some pity project taken on that would wind up at community college.
They had given me some good looks, too; although Sarah’s rejection was something that always stung a little, getting other girls in class had helped some.
But they hadn’t given me the love and care to remain in touch with me or to keep me around.
Still, on this Christmas Eve, sitting in my room, playing video games with a couple of hours to kill before we went to church, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to the days when my parents had me.
Maybe it was a difficult choice to give me up.
Maybe, on this Christmas Eve, they, too, were suffering, wishing I was still around.
“Hey, shithead,” Morgan said, barging in and interrupting my thoughts. “Mom says if you don’t come help set the table, you don’t get any food.”
“Tell her I’ll be in when I beat this level,” I said. “I—”
“No, Chance, seriously,” Morgan said, suddenly getting very serious with me. “I was just playing. But Mom really wants to see you. She said to set the table, but…”
I looked at him, confused, but if there was anyone in the family I was never going to keep waiting, it was Mrs. Hunt.
Edwin was someone I would passive-aggressively combat, and Morgan was someone I would call a shithead to his face, but Mrs. Hunt was too sweet and kind for me to do anything other than do everything she said.
I paused the game, told Morgan not to touch it, and then headed downstairs.
When I got down there, the table was actually already set. Mrs. Hunt was in a small office by the kitchen, seated and staring at her phone.
“Come here, Chance,” she said.
I did so. She stood and shut the door behind me. She asked me to take a seat, and I just wondered why she was so melancholy.
“I just got a call that your biological father, Parker Givens, just died,” she said. “I know you didn’t know him. I know you’ve said that you never wanted to meet him. But… I just thought you should know.”
I sat there, stunned. I had never really thought about what this day would feel like; I was so far removed from everything having to do with my biological parents that I didn’t think of how I’d react when I lost one of them.
But now my father was dead… the man who could have loved and cared for me like Edwin should have, and I would never get that. I would never get a conversation with him. I didn’t even know his name was Parker—that’s how bad it was.
“OK,” I said simply.
I didn’t know how to react. I was more just confused than anything else. I also felt, once again, abandoned; it seemed people liked to leave me behind when it was convenient for them.
“If you want to go to his funeral—”
“No,” I said immediately. “No. He… he doesn’t mean anything to me. I won’t know anyone there. I’m good.”
“OK,” Mrs. Hunt said. “If you want to talk about it, just let me know.”
I nodded. I stood up, gave my mother a hug, and walked out the door.
If I was supposed to feel anything for a man who hadn’t been there in my life other than disappointment, I sure didn’t feel it right then.
Present Day
“I’m so sorry, Morgan,” I said.
Now that the day had finally come, the one that Morgan and I had anticipated now for… my God, just three days…
It had only been three days since Morgan told me his father was sick. Even in the worst case scenario of my projections, I never would have thought three days would have killed him. He really had just lost everything and seen no reason to carry on.
I flashed back to remembering how my actual father had died, and I suddenly felt very guilty for the things I had said about him at the time.
I’d avoided seeing my father’s grave, even when that knowledge was quietly passed on to me by Melanie.
I avoided visiting my actual, biological mother, even when that same information was included in the resting spot of my father.
All of those fears of abandonment… I didn’t know anything about my biological parents.
The high school version of myself, dealing with insecurities of being alone forever, had simply pushed any knowledge of them away, not wanting to open up the opportunity to get hurt even more.
And now here was a spot where there was someone whom I knew all too much about having died, and it was even worse than not knowing.
Actually, the worst part was that Edwin had every opportunity to be the man who earned the title of father.
Just like Melanie had earned the title of Mom and Morgan had earned the title of brother, Edwin could have very easily been like a father to me.
Had he just put an ounce of effort into making me a better businessman…
had he just shown some interest in who I was and my wellbeing…
I never expected him to be like Mom, staying at home, driving us to school, taking care of us in every sense necessary.
Even at a young age, I understood that Edwin was the breadwinner of the family, and that required him being away from us for long stretches of time.
I just wished that he had been someone who, when he was present, had given just an ounce of a damn about me.
But no. He had not.
And now, it was too late. He would never get the chance to earn the title of father to me. Edwin Hunt dying meant as much to me as a former U.S. president or famous athlete dying.
That was a slight exaggeration, but not as much as it should have been.
However, that was only the case for me.
“You OK?” I said.
“I mean… no,” Morgan said. “I’m at the hospital.”
“Is Mom there?”
“She’s on her way,” Morgan said. “But… I don’t think she’s too heartbroken about it, Chance. She’s more concerned with how I am than about Edwin.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, even though I fully understood Mom’s position. “Hang tight. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, OK?”
“OK. Thanks.”
“Love you, man.”
I hung up shortly after when Morgan could only barely mutter that he loved me too. I let the phone drop by my side as I sighed. What could have been, never will be. I’m not sure there are seven sadder words in the English language than that.
“You OK?”
I had gotten so engrossed in my phone call, having sat on the couch with a blanket over my naked body, that I completely forgot Layla was there. She sat by me, turning her body to me.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Morgan’s not, though. Edwin just died.”
“Oh my God, Chance, I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK, don’t be,” I said. “I was never close to him. He wasn’t someone who deserved my attention or care. I’ll go this funeral just to be there for Morgan and my mother, but I have a feeling that it’s not going to be a very populated funeral.”
“That’s… harsh.”
“Yeah, but it’s true.”
The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had a lot to unpack because of Edwin’s death. I didn’t mean from the perspective of my relationship with him; interestingly enough, that was one of the more settled parts of it all. I had little doubt about how I felt about Edwin.
I was more concerned about how his death would affect how I led my life and who I bonded with.
Would it make me want to hold on to Layla more strongly and aggressively than I was now?
Would it make me want to go and visit my biological father’s grave and my mother?
Would it change my outlook on money and work?
I had no idea. I didn’t even know where to start, other than to go to the hospital to see Morgan.
“I gotta go to the hospital,” I said. “But, Layla, can you promise me something?”
She nodded, compassion and kindness fully in her eyes.
“You haven’t accepted the job in Chicago, right?”
“It’s likely, but not officially,” she said.
“OK,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Promise me that before you officially accept the offer, you come and talk to me. It may not do anything, but I just want to have that chance with you before you make that decision. Can you do that?”
I saw something then in Layla’s eyes that I hadn’t seen since… well, ever.
A real hope.
Not a hope for sex. Not a hope that I would forgive her.
But a hope that we would work.
“I will,” she said softly.
She leaned forward and kissed me. I held her face in my hands; I never wanted to let go.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll text you for when we can meet again after I deal with this. I promise.”