“You must understand I have certain obligations to my family.”
“And what does that make me?” In for a penny in for a pound they say.
The room is soundless except for the gym doors opening and closing as people return from their lunch breaks.
“Do you know who I am?” Is it possible he’s forgotten about me so much he doesn’t realize the Clare Cunningham sitting across the desk from him is his daughter?
“Of course.” The words come out in a half-sneer like he can’t believe I’d question such a thing. “I knew that night. I wasn’t sure if you knew.”
My anger increases with every single word to come out of his stupid, rich person mouth to the point I’m now seething. If possible my blood would actually boil. “I’ve always known about my rich father who couldn’t be bothered to make sure I had shoes or food.”
His face falls into what I would call sadness, but I have no sympathy for him. “That’s not fair. Your mom said she wanted to do it alone.”
“Yes, and you listened to her.” My mouth hangs open as I finish the last word in complete disbelief. This is the first real conversation I’ve had with the man and all he’s doing is proving I was better off without him in my life.
“When your mother went to jail, your caseworker Mrs. Jamieson offered to set up a meeting. But you’d been placed in a foster home and there was no way you could live with me. I didn’t see the point.”
“You didn’t see the point?” I heard him absolutely fine, but my brain can’t process the meaning behind those words.
He didn’t see the point in meeting his daughter.
“It would’ve been terribly hard on me.” He keeps talking like he feels the need to fill the space, but it’s making it worse.
I stare at him without speaking because I don’t know what else to do. The father who left me as a baby didn’t meet me at a time in my life when I needed him most because it would have been terribly hard on him. Should I apologize?
We both sit, breathing in the silence.
The realization hits me like a baseball to the face. I visibly jerk back in my chair as the situation becomes clear. At the moment it doesn’t matter what else William says to me. I waited all these years for my chance to have this conversation with him, but it doesn’t matter.
My chair rolls back hitting the wall as I stand up and try my hardest not to smile. “Well, thanks for stopping in to see me. I hope you have a good afternoon.” There isn’t a nicer way to tell him get the fuck out of my office.
He stands as well, his face between a smile and frown obviously puzzled at the change of direction. “You will talk to Grant, right?”
I nod my head reassuringly. “Of course, I’ll definitely be talking with Grant.”
The promise takes away his worries and his face grows into a smile. The man reaches across my desk and tries to shake my hand, but thankfully when I don’t reciprocate he’s quick to put it to his side. Once his backside clears the doorway, I slump down in my desk chair feeling thirty pounds lighter after the experience.
It’s like a light has turned on after living in darkness for so many years. William isn’t a horrible person because he has money. He’s a horrible person because he is a horrible person. For years growing up I always blamed everyone else for him not being a father. His mother, my mother, but like a small child who needs her father I always made excuses for him. I’d maintained a belief there was an unnamed dragon standing between us who wouldn’t allow my father to rescue his little girl. But that isn’t it at all.
My father’s an asshole.
And that’s okay. Lots of people have asshole fathers. Hell, half the people in the center are going home to two uncaring assholeish parents.
As I sit in my chair mesmerized at the growth I’ve made today, another thought comes to me. Next month when I visit my mother I can honestly tell her I talked to my father. I throw my head back and laugh at the idea. And when she asks how the conversation went, I’ll tell her truthfully it went well. Because having him here in my office where I didn’t throw anything at him is a great conversation in my book.
Years and years of anger and mistrust melt away until I’m a completely new person. I’m one of those happy people. The annoying kind who see the positive in everything… that’s me now.
Well at least for a few minutes. I’m sure sooner or later someone will piss me off and I’ll go back to jaded Clare. I do have an asshole for a father and a delusional mother in jail. But for now I’m content… and happy.
