Chapter 63 Show ’Em What You Got
Show ’Em What You Got
Maisie
It’s been a few days since Connor stayed with me during the worst of my period.
I didn’t know a man could act like that.
My dad always pretended periods didn’t exist, and Karsen was actively disgusted by it.
He also never respected the level of pain that could accompany it.
I can’t even tell you how many times I asked him not to slap my ass when I had my period, but that didn’t lead to any sort of change in behavior.
Connor was sweet, helpful, and attentive.
He even snuck out once Angie was back to go get me ice cream.
He promised next time he’d have it ready, along with anything else I needed.
That I wasn’t alone in this. He…really loves me.
He shows me all the time. And I love him, too, so I don’t know why I can’t make myself say it.
Maybe because I still don’t know why he stopped talking to me for those few weeks?
There’s something holding me back—whether it’s my own shit or his, I can’t say.
But I guess all there is to do is keep moving forward, see what happens.
I’m walking to class when I have the urge to call my dad. I haven’t talked to him since winter break. I started my social psychology class yesterday, and I really loved it. I know I need to tell him, but the thought of it makes my stomach flip, which means I need to get it over with.
He picks up on the second ring. “Hi, Bean. Thanks for calling.”
“Hi, Dad. How’re you and Mom?”
“Oh, we’re doing swimmingly.” He chuckles. “To what do I owe the pleasure of you calling? Everything going okay with school? Diving?”
His two favorite subjects. At least I actually planned to talk about one of them this time. “Both are good, but I wanted to tell you something.”
The silence I’m met with does nothing to soothe my nerves.
I snatch my cuticle between my teeth. “I failed my first test, so after talking to the professor, I’ve dropped organic chemistry, but the good news is I already picked up social psychology, which is also an OT pre-req.
And I could always take organic chemistry another semester.
” The words rush out, and I quickly drag in a breath afterward.
One of my fingers starts to bleed. I wipe it on my leggings as I await his reply.
“That sounds like a solid plan, Bean.”
“It does?”
“Of course. It sounds like you weighed your options and chose the best path forward for what you’re dealing with right now.
I don’t love to hear you failed, and I’m sure if you had stayed in the course, you could have turned it around—but I think all things considered, you made a good choice. You’ll keep your GPA up this way.”
“Oh. Yeah. My GPA. Thanks, Dad.”
My stomach sours. I thought for a second he was encouraging me that it’s okay to want to do something else, but he thinks it’s all just a calculated move.
“Did I say something wrong?” He must have noticed the shift in my tone.
“No.” Yes.
“You can talk to me, Bean. I’m your father.”
“I just…I don’t know if I want to be an occupational therapist.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for starters, I haven’t liked any of the classes that are required to get into OT school.”
“I see.”
“And I want to explore other career paths. Not be boxed into one.” Wow. I hadn’t even fully formed these thoughts, but they are all spilling out of me.
“What careers?” he asks pragmatically.
“I don’t know…and I want to be okay with that.”
I wait for the lecture, but instead, he says, “Did I ever tell you Grandpa Thatcher was a long-haul truck driver?”
My mind feels like a record scratch. “What? No.”
I never knew Grandpa Thatcher. He was gone before I was born, and Dad rarely talks about him.
“Well, he was. He was gone all the time. He told me to get a job after high school. Didn’t support my desire to go to college.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. That sounds really hard.”
“It was. And everything I have, I had to work for. Hard. Despite what he told me. I scraped for the money to pay my way to college. It was a privilege I fought tooth and nail for.” He quiets for a moment, and I picture him running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s passionate about something.
“Some of that grit seems to have passed on to you. I see it in the way you fight for grades, dives, everything. I fostered it in you because my dad didn’t push me.
I do it because I care, but I don’t want to push you away.
Ever. You’re my little girl, and I love you. Understand?”
Tears well in my eyes. He’s never told me this, and I can’t help but think some things would have been different if he had. He can’t begin to understand what his words mean to me. Like a breath of fresh air to scorched lungs.
“I’m thankful for the ways you’ve pushed me. Truly. I just…also needed to hear you’ll love me no matter what. Even if I fail.”
“Nothing could stop my love for you, Bean. You’re my whole world.”
His words wash over me, and I feel tall. Strong. Like I can conquer anything.
“I love you, Dad. So much.”
“I love you, Bean. Your invitational is this weekend, isn’t it? I thought about flying out, but I didn’t want another situation like last time.”
“Oh. Yeah. It’s okay, Dad. You already apologized for that. You and Mom are welcome any time. Just maybe stick to cheering instead of critiquing?”
“I can do that. I think.” He laughs. “Might take a few tries to break the habit, so bear with me.” I laugh too. He wouldn’t be my dad otherwise. “But hey, kick some serious butt at that invitational, kid. Show ’em what you got.”
“I will, Dad. Thanks again. Give Mom a hug from me, too. I’m just walking into class, but I’ll talk to you soon. I love you. Bye.”
Bolstered by his words, I decide that after this class, I’ll head to the gym. I’ve been putting in the work, and I think it’s about time I try my back three and a half in a competition again. I can do it. D1 diving is for me. That grit my dad passed down is going to go to good use.
As I walk into class, I visualize myself on the ten-meter. And I like what I see.