8. Maxwell
Maxwell
The last thing I wanted to do this morning while hungover as all hell was go to brunch with my father, but I guess we both owe it each other.
He drove me downtown, both of us not daring to speak to one another in the car.
The silence between us is filled so thick with tension that it makes it hard to breathe. Even the windows are cracked and fresh air isn’t helpful to our cause.
My head is pounding and I’m borderline about to throw up in his fancy Mercedes. Dad whips into the parking lot of what used to be our families favorite, Daisy's Kitchen. The car jerked so hard I threw up in my mouth and had to swallow it down, the acid-like puke burning at my throat.
When we’re out of the car and inside the diner, everyone greets my father like he’s king of the world. I get the same treatment, but it doesn’t feel the same as it always does.
Sitting down at our usual booth in the corner, a waitress comes over with a black coffee for dad and strawberry milk for me.
“Thanks, Darlene,” Dad says to her. She smiles back at him and lets us know she’ll be back with our orders. The best part about coming here is everyone already knows what we want and how we like it.
He looks at me and this is the moment I’ve been dreading since he texted me this morning. I'm not sure what to expect from him, but he doesn't keep me waiting and jumps right into it.
“I never wanted kids,” he admits, throwing me for a loop. “I worked at a place filled with people who either grew up or haven’t. The ones who hadn’t left impressions. Kids who would cause a ruckus and trouble just because.” It sounds like he’s describing me, but I ignore it and let him keep going.
“When your mom was pregnant, I almost left her, but then it occurred to me that it took both of us to make this child. And that I loved her way too much. I watched her, the way she nurtured you even in her belly. It was just short of magical. She lit up like a Christmas tree when she loved you. She loved you in a way that she didn’t me.
You were her life. You changed her into a better version of herself.
She was made to be a mother. The day you were born, she stopped being my wife.
She stopped loving me like she always had.
It was you, always you, but for me? It was her. Always her.”
I put my hands in front of my face to cover the way that my chin is quivering.
“I did everything she ever asked of me. If she ran out of formula at ten at night, I was at the store. If she needed a missing ingredient for dinner, I went running. If she wanted to go out for dinner, I brought her. If she needed alone time, I watched you. I fed you. I changed your ass. I did everything a parent is supposed to do, but I never did it because I loved you. I did it because I loved her.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I interrupt, my voice threatening to crack. One word away from breaking.
He ignores the question.
“One night I almost left. You were up all night, crying and crying and crying. Your mom couldn’t soothe you. She was exhausted and so was I. I wanted you to stop so bad. I didn't want to hear you screaming any longer, but instead I picked you up. Do you want to know what you did?”
“What did I do?” I rasp.
“You stopped crying. You weren’t talking much.
Maybe only a year old at the time. But you stopped crying and wiggling and you looked right into my eyes and said Dada.
” He smiles at the memory. Not one of those smiles that doesn’t reach his eyes, no, this one does.
His crows feet show and even catch a glimpse of his teeth, too.
“I vowed to myself from that point forward that I would love you and I did. I do. But as you grew older, you turned into an angry kid. You found an outlet through adrenaline and doing things you shouldn’t be doing, and you turned right back into every kid I despised.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“No, but maybe understand.”
“You are my father,” I say.
“I never wanted to be, but I loved you anyway!”
“After a year and then a few later, you hated me again. Thanks for wasting my time this morning,” I snapped. Rising to my feet, I walk away just as the food is coming. I excused myself to the waitress, leaving my father alone with two meals and a bill to pay.
He can go rightfully fuck himself.
I Ubered back to campus. The walk would have only been about twenty minutes, but the state my body is in wouldn’t allow for that.
Really, I needed the food that was being offered to me, but I couldn’t sit through one more minute of what Randall was saying.
It was the only thing on my mind, and I didn’t want to think about it.
Took a long ride on my bike until I ran out of gas, filled back up, and continued to ride.
Had to fill the tank one more time before going back to campus.
Barely knew what towns and cities I drove through, but it didn’t matter.
I had my phone, myself, and an open road. That was all I needed.
Back on campus, I’d texted my friends and told them to meet me out at our spot. It took them almost half an hour to get there, and in that time, I chain-smoked almost five cigarettes. My lungs burn. My throat aches, but it’s better than the alternative.
“You smell like an ashtray,” Mav says as he sits down next to me. I’m pretty sure it’s the couch he’s smelling, and he’s just an asshole, but I don’t bother. Just shrug my shoulders at him.
“You still bent out of shape about last night?” Dax asks. His hair is tied back into braids. The sun is shining bright today, and the weather like this always makes his eyes look see-through in a way that’s like you’re staring through glass.
“Nope.”
“Why are you so... Down?” Mav ponders. He’s wearing a Sunrise University ballcap, hiding his buzzed head. Days like today with the brightness and high UV’s, he is always wearing a hat to refrain from a sunburn on his head.
I turn my head to look at him by my side and back to Dax, who is sitting in front of us on the rickety coffee table.
I tell them everything my father said to me. Word for word, as if I’m in his shoes, telling it to me. The words are ingrained in my brain and my heart.
And you turned right back into every kid I despised.
Leaning my head back against the couch, staring into the blue sky, I tell them without making eye contact. Before they have a chance to say anything, all of our phones ding at the same time. I don’t move to see what it is.
Mav moves next to me, probably to grab his phone.
“It’s an email from the school,” he says.
“What does it say?” Dax asks for me.
“Dean Randall Levine is no longer going to be working here.”
My head snaps up, and I yank Mav’s phone out of his hand to scan the letter.
Another University had an opening. He will be transferring. Randall will not be disclosing where he will be going.
“Good fucking riddance,” I mutter.
Randall had vowed that he would love me, but he stopped.
Today I vow that I will never think about him again. The difference though? I won't break this vow.
Time to pretend like last week hasn’t happened, that I don't have daddy issues, that I pictured a guy to finish.
I'm going to erase my reality and start fresh. A clean state.
I meant nothing to my father, but I'm going to damn well make sure I mean everything to Clayton Reeves.