“What’s up?” I ask.
He shakes his head before he lets me go. When I look at his face properly, his usually bright and full-of-life brown eyes are red-rimmed.
“My dad…” He swallows as if it’s hard for him to talk. I hold his hand, ignoring all the alarm bells going through my head, and pull him toward my gate. When we get through, I turn left toward the pool house instead of taking him inside the main house.
We’ve hung out in there a few times. I call it the pool house because it’s by the pool, but it’s not really a house. It’s more like a small studio, but it has a daybed, a TV, and a small kitchenette.
My aunt stays here when she visits. She says she can’t stand the stiffness around my dad, and she can let her hair down in the pool house.
It’s funny because my mom’s family is the one with money, but it’s my dad who acts as if he comes from old money. I used to think he was the most intelligent person in the world because he always wore suits and was very fancy, but it’s all an act so people believe he belongs in the money circles of the country club they go to.
When we’re inside, I flip the blinds in the window so we have some privacy but still let the sun inside.
Tyler crashes on the daybed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands in fists over his eyes.
I sit next to him and pull his hands away from his face. He looks at me, and my heart breaks.
“What happened, Ty?”
“You know how we’ve been waiting for the adoption court date?”
I nod. “Your dad wants to adopt you.
“Yeah. It feels like we’ve been waiting for it for a lifetime. It doesn’t really matter, you know? He loves me like I’m his own son, and he’ll always be my dad even though I didn’t meet him until I was ten.” His gaze fixes on the TV screen in front of us. “The letter came today.”
“This is great news, isn’t it? Why are you upset?”
“My dad was home when I got there. He had the letter in his hand. His eyes were red from crying, and I thought he’d changed his mind.”
I can’t breathe right now. This is all Tyler ever wanted, maybe apart from starting our own rock band. And he might not admit it, but he wants to officially be his father’s son as much as his dad wants it.
“Did he?” I ask, unable to stand the silence.
He shakes his head. “No. He was home because he had a doctor’s appointment about the pains he’s been having in his side.”
Oh no.
“Mik, he’s dying.” His voice breaks and tears run down his face. “He did everything right for years. He got sober. He got a good job. He got me…and now he’s fucking dying.”
I don't know what to say. My heart breaks for Ty and for his dad.
How can anything I say now make it better?
I hold Ty against me as he sobs uncontrollably.
“I’m so sorry, Ty,” I whisper in his ear, and I keep saying it over and over until his crying subsides. His body goes slack against mine, but I keep holding him, hoping to give him some comfort.
Before I think too much about it, I shift my body and help Ty lie down. He falls asleep almost instantly.
The warmth of the sun lulls me into sleep. Occasionally, Ty makes a noise or calls out his dad’s name in his sleep, and I talk to him each time until he’s calmer and his breathing evens out.
I look at his sleeping figure and move a lock of hair from his eyes.
His dad is dying. That fucking sucks.
There are so many bad people out there. Why does it have to be Ty’s dad? He’s such a great dad. Much better than mine.
The only reason I don’t wish to have him as my father is because I wouldn’t be able to love Ty the way I want to.
