70. Leo
Leo
When Lucy walks in the door, I stand up from the couch and wrap my arms around her.
“Hey.” Her soft, sweet voice is like a blanket wrapped around me. Instant comfort.
“How are you doing?” she asks.
“Better now that you’re home.”
She tightens her hold around me, and I nuzzle her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo.
Wally runs up to us and pushes his face between our legs. Lucy smiles and crouches down to give him a kiss and scratch behind his ears.
When she stands back up, she looks at the front door for a second before turning back to me. “I have to tell you something.”
“What’s up?”
She takes a breath. “Your dad came to see me today at the diner.”
Protective rage spikes up inside. “What did he want? Was he harassing you?”
She touches my arm and shakes her head. “He wanted to apologize for the way he treated me.”
“What?” I’m stunned. That’s so unlike my dad. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him apologize to anyone in my entire life.
“He knows what happened to your sister. He knows that Jeff abused her.”
“He does?”
Lucy nods. “He said that he saw the news about your fight with Jeff. He saw the video. And he talked to Zoey. She told him what happened.” She pauses for a moment.
“He seems broken, Leo. When he was talking to me about you, he was on the verge of tears. It seems like learning about your sister’s abusive relationship was a wake-up call for him.
He said he apologized to Zoey. And now he wants to apologize to you. ”
A weird tension takes hold in my chest. “I don’t understand…”
That doesn’t sound like my dad. Sad. Regretful. On the verge of tears.
I stand there, my head spinning at everything Lucy’s told me.
“I think you should hear him out,” she says softly.
“You do?”
She nods. “Look, I’m not your dad’s biggest fan. You know that. But he sounded sincere when he apologized to me. And when he talked to me about you…The things he said about you…” She swallows. “I told him he should come over and apologize to you.”
I tense up out of sheer habit. Muscle memory from a lifetime of dealing with my dad’s disapproval.
“You have every right to say no,” Lucy says, as if she can read my mind. “But I really think you should hear him out. I think you’re going to want to hear what he has to say to you.”
I stand there, quietly thinking about what I should do.
My instinct is to say no. I don’t want to see him or talk to him. I have a hard time believing that in the space of a single day, he’s changed completely.
But Lucy thinks I should give him a chance. And I trust her over anyone.
I pull her close and press a soft kiss to her lips. “Okay. I’ll talk to him.”
She opens the front door, stands in the doorway, and waves. A few moments later, my dad walks in.
He lingers in the doorway, his body language hesitant. Like he’s not sure if he should stay or go.
When I take in his expression, I’m stunned. His eyes are red, like he’s been crying. I’ve never seen him like this.
That tension in my chest deepens and tightens at the sight of him, sad and in pain.
“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Lucy says quietly.
Dad looks at her. “Thank you for letting me come with you, Lucy.”
She nods at him, then walks upstairs. Wally trots after her, wagging his tail happily.
I cross my arms and look at my dad. “Lucy is quite impressive,” he says.
“She’s amazing. I’m lucky to have her.”
He sits on the armchair, and I sit on the couch.
He looks down at his lap for a second. “She told me off for the way I’ve treated you. She called me an asshole.”
My brow lifts. “She did?” I shouldn’t be so surprised. That’s who Lucy is—loyal and protective of the ones she loves. And never afraid to defend them.
A warm feeling swirls through me at how fortunate I am to have her.
The look in his eyes turns thoughtful as he focuses on me. “She’s right. I’m terrible for the way I’ve treated you, Leo. And your sister. All these years, I overlooked her to focus on you.”
His eyes shine with tears. That knot in my chest tightens. I’ve never seen him cry before. Not even at my grandpa’s funeral.
This is so jarring, seeing him like this. The last time I talked to him was at Thanksgiving, when he insulted Lucy. He was so mean and uncaring.
But now he looks broken.
“After I texted you this morning about your fight with Jeff, and you told me off for not checking on Zoey, I reached out to her. She told me what happened. She told me everything.”
He blinks quickly, like he’s trying to hold back tears.
“I didn’t even realize she was being abused. My own daughter…” He trails off. His throat works as he swallows. “It was happening right in front of me, and I had no idea.”
“I didn’t know either,” I say softly. “None of us did.”
“This whole thing was a wake-up call,” he says. “It made me realize that if I don’t fix my relationship with my kids, I’ll have nothing worthwhile left in my life.”
His words land like cold water splashing onto my face. I’ve never heard my dad talk about me in that way. Like I’m important. Like I matter. Like I’m more than just an extension of himself.
Like I’m his son.
Something behind my ribcage catches, and for a second, it’s hard to breathe.
“I told your sister I was sorry,” he says. “For not paying more attention. For not checking on her. For not being the father she deserved. And I told her that I wanted to work on our relationship.”
“What did she say?”
He lets out a shaky breath. “She accepted my apology and said she wanted to work on our relationship too.”
I’m quiet as I process what he’s said.
“I’m sorry for the way I treated you all these years, Leo. I went about all this the wrong way. I wanted you to be the best at hockey, and I thought the way to do that was to be tough with you. It’s what I was used to. It’s how my dad treated me.”
I frown, confused. No way can he be talking about Grandpa—his dad. Grandpa Paolo was a big softie. Always smiling and joking with Zoey and me. Always hugging and cuddling with us when we were little.
Defensiveness kicks in. Is he seriously trying to rewrite history to make me feel sorry for him?
“What are you talking about?” I say. “Grandpa wasn’t like you. He was warm and kind and affectionate. He never criticized me. He always told me how proud he was of me, what a good player I was…”
Emotion flickers in my dad’s eyes as he focuses on me. “He was like that with you, Leo. He was your grandpa. But he was my father. And those were two very different people.”
A long silence stretches between us.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but your Grandpa Paolo wasn’t a warm and fuzzy teddy bear. Not with me. He was strict and unforgiving and hypercritical.” His jaw works, then he looks at me. “Sound familiar?”
I’m quiet as I look at him, stunned at what he’s said.
“He had high expectations for his oldest son,” Dad says, a tinge of sadness laced in his tone.
“Anything less than greatness wasn’t tolerated.
I worked hard my whole life, hoping I could earn his approval.
I pushed myself to be the best hockey player I could be.
I hoped that someday it would be enough. But it wasn’t.”
My head spins. I never thought that my grandpa could be anything other than the warm and loving man I knew. But my dad’s right. I only knew him as a grandfather. I have no idea what he was like before then—as a father.
“I don’t think he even realized how harsh he was.
He came from a different time, and I think it was the only way he knew how to be a father,” my dad says.
“But then, he had grandkids, and that softened him. He changed a lot. He became kinder, more generous.” He turns to me.
“I’m glad you got to see that side of him. ”
I don’t say anything. I don’t have the words. This is all such a shock.
“I realize now what a mistake I made, being the kind of father I was to you, Leo,” he says quietly. “I should have been kinder. I should have hugged you more. I should have told you that I’m proud of you. That I love you.”
He looks at me with that pained gaze. In that moment, I don’t recognize him. He doesn’t look like my dad. My dad is unforgiving, unfeeling, critical, and cruel. This person is someone else. This person is in pain. This person is willing to talk about his emotions. This person has a heart.
He looks me in the eye. “I’m proud of you, son. I always have been. I’m sorry I never told you that.”
Emotion swells up in my torso, clogging my throat.
“I know you probably don’t believe me, but it’s true, Leo. I’m really damn proud of you. And not just because you’re a great hockey player. You’re an incredible person.”
His voice starts to shake. He clears his throat.
“You have all the best qualities of your grandfather—the kindness, the generosity, the giving nature. But you’re better than he was because you were always like that. It’s just who you are.” He clears his throat. “It’s because of your mom too. She did a wonderful job raising you.”
I take in the regretful look in his eyes.
“Have you told her that? Have you apologized to her?” I ask, feeling protective of her. He needs to make things right with her too.
He nods. “Yes. I talked to her today, but I know it’ll take more than just one conversation.”
He looks at me, his eyes shiny with tears. “I’m honored to be your dad, Leo. I love you.”
My throat aches as I try to swallow, as I try to soak in this moment where my dad is telling me something I’ve been dying to hear from him after so many years.
It’s all too much, and I don’t know if I can handle it.
He looks at me for a long moment.
“I don’t expect this to change things between us. As much as I want to work on our relationship, I understand if you don’t want to. I’ve put you through a lot. And I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I just appreciate you listening to what I have to say.”
He walks to the front door and reaches for the doorknob.
Before he opens it, I speak.
“Dad, wait.”
I stand up and face him. My head is spinning, trying to make sense of everything that happened in these last few minutes.
The image of my father has changed. He’s not the cruel jerk I always thought he was. There was a reason why he treated me the way he did. It doesn’t make it okay…but at least now I understand it.
“I don’t know if we’ll ever have a good relationship,” I say.
He looks down at the floor. “I understand.”
“I’d like to work on it though,” I say.
Hope flickers in his eyes as he looks at me. I can feel it flickering inside of me too. Because as much as I doubt that we’ll ever have a perfect father-son bond, I think we can be better than we are now. I want to at least try.
The corners of his mouth curve up in a small smile. “Really?”
“Yeah. Maybe we can grab breakfast or lunch together at Lucy’s diner sometime.”
There’s a brightness in his eyes that I don’t recognize. “I’d like that.”
I watch him walk out and close the door behind him. I stand there, feeling more hopeful than I’ve ever felt about my dad.