Chapter 6 #2
Despite telling my dad that getting a rental car was not a hassle for me, he insisted on picking me up from the airport. My argument for him staying with Mom was only met with the fact that I already pay for around-the-clock nurses, therefore it’s his “fatherly duty” to pick me up.
I, however, think that term is bullshit and he wants to spend the maximum amount of time together in order to prove his point that I’m not “happy.”
Which I am, it just looks different now.
Before I even reach baggage claim I spot him with a huge ass sign that reads: my son just won the world series.
I can’t help the laugh. “Subtle, old man, I think the size of this poster is a little too braggy.”
“Good, you got my point.” Dad drops the sign and meets me with an equally big hug. “Happy you’re home.”
The guilt of it being so long between visits takes over and practically knocks the breath out of me, but just as quickly relief washes over me because I’m also so happy to be home.
I clap his back as I return his bear hug. “Me too, thanks for picking me up.”
“Of course, that’s the response I was looking for when I brought it up. Not that bullshit about getting a rental.” Dad shakes my shoulder before releasing his hold. “Come on, let’s get this show on the road.”
With a nod, we head over to baggage claim where I stand tight-lipped to keep the five million questions I have about how Mom’s actually doing to myself. All those questions can come out on the drive home. Or better yet, to the nurse who won’t sugarcoat anything for me.
“So, you remember our deal? I need to see you happy, and you’re not off to a good start,” my dad says with zero regard to discretion.
“Christ’s sake, we haven’t even made it to the parking lot. I just got off a plane, most people aren’t exactly rays of sunshine immediately after traveling.”
“They are when they fly first class.”
The twitch of an eye roll starts, but I stop it. I can’t and won’t give him any sort of ammunition. No negativity. Nothing.
I roll my tense shoulders back and relax. “I would love for it to not include you psychoanalyzing every tiny move I make. We’re standing around waiting for bags to start rolling out and praying that it didn’t somehow get lost, so maybe we can hold off on the accusations for a bit.”
Dad waves a hand. “Alright, fine. I’ll wait…but everything about you feels melancholy, and I don’t like it.”
“Maybe it’s the fluorescent lights?”
He snorts. “I suppose you’re right. Could just be how much we missed you.” He holds his sign back up. “Very proud, but missed you.”
I’m not one to really feel embarrassment, you get over that pretty fast when every fuck up in a game is analyzed by sports commentators, but I wouldn’t mind passing on less attention right now.
“I’m right here, I think you can put your sign down now.”
“You must have missed the part where I said proud—I almost wore my T-shirt too, but the not-fun nurse is on shift today and she said it was too much.”
Thank god for that.
I pat his chest as the conveyor belt starts up. “Cheesy, old man.”
Once we get my stuff in his truck, I send out a text to the team chat first.
(Blue) Balls for Life
Beck
Made it to my parents
Callie
Yay!! Tell everyone we said hi!
Lucie
Dex said to text him if you need him outside of the group chat because he has it muted.
Callie
Daddy Dex that’s rude!
Will
Please don’t say that again.
Adam
Cals, I beg you, please don’t respond with something even more inappropriate.
Tripp
Please do.
Emma
Can I order Dex’s new jersey with “Daddy Dex” on the back.
Beck
PLEASE FUCKING DO
Switching out of that chat, I immediately go to my chat with Jensen. Texting her feels like a dangerous game with my dad hovering. I don’t want to explain what she is to me, because really I don’t know that answer fully either.
Eh, fuck it. One quick text.
I know you aren’t as keen on stalking as me so I thought I’d help you out. I made it to Virginia safely.
I should put my phone away. I’m practically on borrowed time as it is on the questioning-my-life-choices front. My thumb rests on the lock button for a solid five seconds and I nearly click, but then the dots pop up.
Jenni-cakes
Enjoy your break from following me around.
It takes a whole lot of effort to swallow down my chuckle. Dropping my phone into my pocket, I know I’d be smiling like a fool with my comeback and that’s just not about to happen around my dad.
“So, how’s Mom actually doing today?” I ask, hoping I can steer our conversation for at least the drive back to the house.
Dad scratches at his chin. “She’s okay. It’s not exactly what I’d call a good day, but not bad either. She’s quiet today, no real desire to chat, but loved watching you play in that final game. She’s chattiest after games.”
I don’t know what emotion comes over me at that. I feel a little bit of pride because this was always her hope for me, I just fucking wish she remembered how important this game was to us.
I guess, on some level, she does considering it seems to spark something in her. More accurately, I wish I could experience it with her fully.
“Stop making that face. Hell, you’re not even going to make it home before you seal your fate on this deal.”
“Okay, excuse me for not jumping up and down.” I exhale. “Can’t you just give me the tiniest bit of grace, please? I get updates through text and phone calls. Sometimes I might look sad because, guess what, I’m fucking sad that my mom is going through this and you’re here alone dealing with it.”
Dad’s mouth opens with what I’m sure is an argument, but I’m not done. Hell, so much for being cool, calm, and collected.
“I get that I’m providing all the treatment and care. I know that I’m doing what I can, but feeling sad about the situation doesn’t make me lose this bet. I’m happy with my career. I have great friends, and hobbies. But, yeah, I’m still sad about what’s happening, and that’s okay!”
Dad huffs. “First off, I’m not ‘dealing’ with it all. I get to take care of your mom. It’s a fucking privilege.”
That one hits. Hits hard.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
He nods but holds his hand up. “Second, you’re right. You are allowed to be sad. I get it, I’m sad too. But you’re lying to yourself if you think you’re the same happy kid your mom and I raised.”
The argument that I am, in fact, not a kid anymore hangs on the tip of my tongue, but I know that’s not how he means it.
Deep down, I knew convincing him I’m doing fine was going to be an uphill battle with all the time we spend apart now.
“You know I’m allowed to change, right?”
He sighs, scratching at his chin again. “Yeah, then maybe you need to show me that the change isn’t eating you alive. From where I’m looking, you’re letting this consume you.”