93. Kai
Kai
My dad is coming over today while Kendall is at work and Akio is at daycare.
It’s only the third time I’ve been alone with him since everything happened last summer.
We’ve talked a bit since then and come to somewhat of an understanding but there is still lingering hurt and frustration there.
He is insistent and eager to meet with me and after almost dying, I’ve realized nothing in this life is guaranteed.
Around noon, he shows up in a long winter parka, carrying a bag of two greasy subs from one of my favorite restaurants.
I open the door wider for him to come in and Stella immediately trots over to him.
She barks loudly and aggressively, coming to stand between my father and me.
But as soon as she sniffs his hand and circles him once, she decides he isn’t a threat.
Not yet anyways.
“Hey, thought I’d pick up lunch. I hope that’s okay,” he says, handing me the bag and hanging up his coat.
“Yeah, that’s great, thanks. We can eat while we watch the game if you want?” I suggest. He brushes snowflakes off his shirt and shakes out his hair while he stomps his feet on our welcome mat.
“Oh, okay. Sure,” he replies. But I can tell he’s disappointed. Weird. This has been our thing, our ritual even before my abduction and hospitalization. We rarely talk and when we do, we typically bond over sports. If there’s something he needs to discuss, he would have to make the effort.
An hour and a half later, we’re sitting on the couch watching the end of a college basketball game. He’s on one end and I’m on the other. He reaches over to the remote and presses the mute button.
He swipes his hand over his face.
“I did want to talk to you about something, Kai. That’s why I asked to come over,” he finally explains.
“Okay,” I respond, wringing my hands together. “What’s up?”
“I want to know my grandson and I want to try and make things work with you, with us,” he states nervously.
“That’s a big ask, Dad. I don’t know how Kendall will feel about that. We would have to talk about it.” Which isn’t a lie but it isn’t the truth either. Kendall has been urging me to try and make things right with my father for months. She claims she has moved past everything and has forgiven him.
“How Kendall would feel about it or how you would feel about it?” he asks. So, I guess we’re going there.
“I don’t know, Dad. I’m trying to come up with a reason I would want you around my son and fiancée after you did the things you did.”
He swallows and I can see something unfamiliar flicker in his expression.
Remorse? Guilt?
“I can certainly understand why you wouldn’t want me around Akio or Kendall.
I can’t take back what I did. I will never be able to undo that.
Even though I wish I could. But I can try to make it up to the three of you.
And I am sorry for what I put you through.
For trying to harm your beautiful family. There’s no excuse for it.”
My father has never apologized to me in my entire life. For a moment, I wonder if I’m imagining this conversation.
“And what about the years Kendall and I spent apart partially due to your decisions? The pain we both went through?” I press harder. “Because it isn’t just about what you did. It’s about the ramifications of your actions.”
“I know. I realize that now. And I know I could have done things differently when you and your siblings were growing up. Again, I can’t change any of that, but I can apologize for it.
I can try to make things right. And I am sorry.
You were right. You don’t do things like that to the people you love and I do love you and your brother and sister fiercely. I always have and I always will.”
A tear slips down my face that I quickly wipe away. I shake my head, unable to believe the things I’m hearing. But this is real. He is here, admitting fault and attempting to make amends.
“You’ll come to Sunday dinner with the whole family at least once a month. Mom, Kendall’s moms, Amy, they’ll all be here too,” I tell him. His lips quirk into a smile and he seems surprised.
“Of course. I’ll be there.”
“You’ll show up for him. Spoil him rotten. You’ll love him unconditionally, without strings, without expectations,” I demand.
The way you never loved me.
“I will. I promise. Thank you, son.”
I nod, happy to have some of this weight taken off my shoulders.
“I want to tell you something and it is in no way a justification for my actions. But maybe you’ll understand me a little better once you hear it.”
“Okay,” I wait for him to continue. He cracks his knuckles and brings his gaze to the ceiling. He wrings his hands over and over, the same way I do. Whatever he’s about to say isn’t going to be easy.
“When I was a kid, like twelve, my dad started to come home drunk, really angry. It just got worse and worse until he would come home every day belligerent. One day, he started to hit me. Some days it would be his belt. Some days his hands. It didn’t matter as long as he got to unleash on something, someone.
But I was the oldest so I took the brunt of it and tried to protect my mom and siblings the best I could.
” He pauses for a second, turning his back to me and hiking his shirt up over his head.
His back is covered in scars, angry serrated misshapen raised blotches.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Dad, I—"
“Let me finish, Kai. Let me get this out,” he pleads.
“When I was 15, I had had enough. I went through a growth spurt. I was almost bigger than he was. He hit me and I hit him back and I didn’t stop until his face was almost unrecognizable.
I told him if he ever came back, I would kill him and I meant it.
He left that night and we never saw him again,” he blows out a stuttered breath.
“I always promised myself if I had kids, I would be better than my dad. And I was better than him. I never physically harmed any of you. But that’s a pretty low bar. And it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry, Kai.”
“It’s okay, Dad. I get it.”
“No, Kai, it’s not okay. I raised the three of you to be smart, driven, goal-oriented.
I wanted you and Ryo to be protégés, mirror images of me.
And thank god you aren’t. You three are the best things that have ever happened to me, besides your mother.
And I don't know why I spent so long trying to hide that. I think my mom always resented me because I was the reason my dad left. I was the reason we struggled to make ends meet. And because of that, I had to pursue a more stable career, not the one I actually wanted. I was never going to play in the NHL. It wasn’t in the cards for me, but it was for you.
I should have been happy for you. And for a long time, all I felt was bitter.
We’re supposed to provide the kinds of opportunities for our children that we never had.
And all I ever did was envy you and for that, I am sorry, Kai.
It was my pain to bear. It was never meant to be yours. ”
I understand it now. Not just his drive to push me and my siblings to be the best. Or his quiet, simmering hostility towards Ryo and me.
Why I have almost never seen my father with a drink in his hand.
Only on special occasions and even then, it was minimal.
My propensity towards alcohol, my tendency to drink when I’m angry or upset, make a lot more sense now too.
I would keep going, with no shut off valve until I woke up the next day with eight hours missing and unaccounted for.
My dad’s propensity towards violence—both physical and emotional—translated directly to my aggressive sometimes volatile outbursts.
Perhaps I’m a mirror image of him after all.
“There’s one more thing,” my dad says, taking an envelope out of his pocket and holding it out to me.
“I know you helped me with that loan when I needed it. And I also know whether you take that job in Toronto or not, you could use some extra cash flow. I want to give you this and I’m not accepting no for an answer. ”
I take the envelope from his hands warily and open it. Inside is a check addressed to Kendall and me for 300,000 dollars.
“Dad, I can’t. This is too much,” I admit quietly.
“Kai, I would have given this to you whether we talked or not. Whether you graciously allowed me to be part of Akio’s life or you didn’t.
I want you and your family to have it. Start over if you want.
Put it towards a house or that new job. Invest it or save it for Akio’s college tuition.
I want to do this. I can’t do much but I can do this,” he explains, emotion clogging his throat and tearing up a little.
A thought worms its way into my brain and sticks like glue, a thought that started materializing when my father first came clean to me about the loan he borrowed.
Maybe my father isn’t just one thing: evil and carnage, determined to fuck me and my siblings up as much as possible.
Maybe he’s a lot of things, only a fraction of which I understand.
No one person is all good or all bad, I certainly believe that. There is a lot of gray in human nature.
“I don’t know that I would ever be able to pay this back. I don’t want to owe you anything,” I answer shakily.
My father had done the best he could with what he had for his siblings and his children.
It doesn’t mean I forgive him and it doesn’t mean what he did would ever be okay.
Accepting his gesture could carry exactly as much weight as I let it.
Maybe it just means that we’re trying to work towards something better between us. Something honest. Real.
And that feels good.
“You don’t need to. This is a gift. There are no strings attached. It is yours to do what you want with. You could choose not to speak to me for the rest of your life and I would still want you to have this.” My father’s voice cracks as he speaks.
I have never witnessed him cry. Not when Amy was born, not after my mom’s accident, and not after my career ending injury.
This is a day of too many firsts. I nod again, lightheaded and a little shocked, and slip the check and envelope into my pocket. This gift he has given us is far bigger than money.
It’s a clean slate. Freedom. The ability to dream again.