44. Dan
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
DAN
The sun is low in the sky as I step out to the balcony, pulling my jacket on. It’s snowing lightly, being late January. My breath comes out in a visible plume, though the temperature of the balcony is comfortable with an outdoor heater already running. A roof shelters us from the snow.
Dad shuts the glass door behind us, giving us privacy for what is guaranteed to be a difficult conversation. Resting my forearms on the railing, I glance over my shoulder at Ally and her mother in the living room, talking and laughing over something. The sight of them warms me. I’m pleased for Ally and that I have Amabella’s affection again.
My father joins me at the railing. “I can see you love her very much.”
“I do.” I glance back out at the city. Talking about Ally with my father feels odd. I don’t know if it will ever feel normal. “That’s why I’m here today, for her. I told Ally I’ll work on the issues you and I have. I don’t know how I’m meant to find a way to stop being angry at you. But I will. For her. ”
The city sounds of car horns and engines fills the silence between us for what seems like minutes, though I’m sure it’s less. My father is contemplating how to respond. I’m wondering if I should dive in headfirst by mentioning all of my childhood trauma.
“You know, Dan, right before your birthday, I had a conversation with Ally about you,” he speaks first, calm and even sounding… caring. I can’t remember the last time he’s taken this tone with me.
I remember Ally mentioning something about this to me and my brothers when we spoke with them at The Scarlet Mirage, and wonder if this is the same conversation he’s referencing. At the time, I didn’t care much for whatever their chat involved. Now, I’m intrigued.
“I told Ally that she and her mother are the key to holding this family together. That we all come together because of them.” Dad pauses, letting out a troubled sigh. “It shouldn’t be that way. We should be a family even without them. I realize it’s my fault we never have been. But everything you’ve just said confirms what I told Ally that day. She is what keeps you in my life. She is the reason I haven’t completely lost you. And for that, I’ve come to realize there’s no way I can stand against your relationship with Ally. It’s taken me a while to realize this, but she’s good for you.”
For the first time throughout this conversation, I turn to face him. “Thank you,” I say, genuinely meaning it. “What can you and I do to work through our issues?”
“How about this—we’ll talk about anything from the past that you need to. I know I’ve been absent for a lot of your life. It’s my biggest regret. I’ve been harsh on your decisions. You’ve shown me today that you’re making better choices, and I’m proud of you. I know that when I got remarried and tried to be more family-orientated, it was too little too late. But I’m here now, telling you that you are my son and I love you, and that you and your brothers are the most important thing to me in this world. Nothing will fix our past, but I’m determined to fix our future. I know mending our relationship will be a long process. It means the world to me that you’re willing.”
I’m sure he’s said I love you to me at some point in my life, but I can’t remember a time. Hearing it now is healing. Everything he’s said is progress. Perhaps there’s hope for us yet.
I hold my hand out, not being the hugging type with my father, but wanting to show him that his words have resonated with me. He looks down at my hand, hesitating before pulling me in for a hug.
I stiffen in his arms, the physical contact strange and unnatural for us, until I let go of my reservations and hug him back, accepting that this is all part of the journey of forgiveness and letting go of my anger.
In an ideal world, if I could rewrite history, this is the kind of relationship I would have wanted to have with my father. Maybe I can still have that relationship one day.