Anyway, my mother’s the least of my concerns at the moment. After leaving the O’Briens’, I got us home, and after some time, I was able to get my mother into bed for the night. Then I tried calling Mark to no avail.
I kept picturing the expression on his face as we left out the door. He was glaring straight ahead, his jaw rigid with anger and flared nostrils. I couldn’t figure out exactly why, but what my mother said pissed him off. I wanted to call to apologize for her behavior, but my calls went straight to voicemail.
Once my mother went back to bed, I hopped in the car, knowing I couldn’t wait to speak to him.
That’s how I find myself heading into Mark’s building, using the security code for the elevator that takes me up to his third floor apartment. As I come to lift my hand to knock on the large, metal door, I pause, wondering if this is the right thing to do. Before I can answer my question, my fist is pounding against the door.
Stopping, I hear movement on the other side. Bending low, I look into the peephole to see he’s looking through it.
“Open the door. I know you’re in there.”
There’s silence on the other side.
“Open the door, Ma—”
He yanks the door open before I can finish his name. “What?”
Pushing through his door, passing him, I don’t let his attitude deter me. Something propels me to get the air between us clear.
“You were ignoring my calls.” I fold my arms as I spin to face him.
“Wasn’t ignoring them. I was directing them to voicemail.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m tired and want to go to bed.”
“Liar.”
He snorts. “I’m not the only liar in this damn room.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Oh, so now, in addition to being a liar, you’re playing dumb as well?” he asks, slamming the door.
“You’re going to wake your neighbors.”
“So? And you know damn well what I mean. But since you want me to spell it out, fine, what the hell were you doing writing how much you loved me in your high school diary, but never let me meet your parents? Why the hell did I feel like the most important part of your world every minute we were together, but you never let me fully into that world? Why the hell did you treat me like I was never fucking good enough for you? And why the hell are you here now doing the same damn thing?”
His questions are so fierce and forceful that I stumble backward a couple of feet, my arms falling to my sides. The air seeps from my lungs as if I were a deflated balloon.
“Never good enough? Is that what you think? After all these years?”
“What the hell else am I supposed to think?”
“That I was telling you the truth.”
“When? All those times you refused to let me even meet your parents but had no problem sneaking out of your house late at night to come to meet me at one of my fights? Was I not good enough to meet the state justice?”
My eyes water as I shake my head. “You got this all wrong.”
“How, J? How do I have it all wrong?”
“He was never good enough to meetyou,” I shout with my hands fisted at my sides.
Mark’s eyes widen in surprise, but I keep going.
“I hated my father more than anyone else on this planet. Hell, I still do. And yes, I wrote in my high school diary about you because you were my world. But I kept it hidden deep in my drawers because I didn’t want him to find it. He’d take you away from me just like he did every other good thing in my life. He was a controlling, manipulative son of a bitch. The one good thing about him is that he’s dead.”
