Cujo closed the screen door.His father was rinsing off dinner dishes at the sink.
“Hey, Brody.Timing’s perfect.Grab yourself a cloth and gimme a hand.”
Cujo pulled the red-and-white-checked cloth from the hook over the cooker door handle.The small rack’s stability was being severely tested under the pots, crockery, and cutlery piled on it.
He pulled one of the larger items off and started to dry.His cupcake adventure had taught him mindless tasks sometimes led to better decisions.Very Buddhist.Maybedrying the dishes to dry the disheswould provide the words he wanted to say to his father.
They worked in companionable silence, as they had many times over the years.When the dishes were done, Alec pulled two beers out of the fridge and handed one to Cujo, who made short work of unscrewing the cap.
“You want to tell me what’s on your mind, Brody?”
Cujo took a swig of the cold beer.A large one.“I wanted to talk to you about Mom.”In the five days since they’d been reunited, his dad had gone to see her twice every day.Cujo had joined him briefly a couple of times.
They carried their beers into the living room, past the small side table he’d chipped a tooth on at six, and took a seat on the brown leather sofa where he’d lost his virginity.
All of the furnishings in this room were old.He’d never really wondered why his dad held on to them until he’d seen his father with his mother at the hospital, all soothing words and smiles.He was holding on to her.To what they were.And maybe to some misplaced idea that she’d come walking back through the door where he could show her how everything was just as it was when she left.
“What did you want to know?”His dad joined him in the sofa.
So many questions rushed through his mind in quick succession, it was difficult to narrow down which to ask first.
“You never got over her, did you?”Cujo took a long draw on the beer.He’d driven over, but hell, he was going to need a few more bottles to get through it.
“What’s the point of going over this?She left us.”Alec smoothed his hand over the worn leather of the chair arm.
“You never talked about it.You think this will… the two of you… fuck.Are you still waiting for her to come back?”
His dad said nothing, as usual.If it was just going to be the same dodging-shit dance, he might as well leave.You couldn’t talk with someone who didn’t want to talk.He might as well go get drunk at home.
He stood.Arguing with his dad wasn’t going to make anything better.
“What do you want me to say, Brody?I loved your mom from the moment I laid eyes on her.”Cujo paused near the door.“She was on her way home from some peace rally.It was the early eighties.She was wearing the most ridiculous rainbow-colored jelly shoes, I remember that.All this blonde hair, so like you and your brothers, a huge smile and a rainbow-colored peace sign on her cheek.Looked like she’d just escaped from Woodstock.”
Cujo returned to the sofa.Alec’s head rested on the back of the sofa, his eyes closed.
“So what went wrong, Dad?”
Alec shook his head.“Only your mom can answer that.She tried to explain the night she left.You caught us off guard.Your mom was only seventeen.First time and she got pregnant.”
Both his mom and dad had shared life-changing events in their teens.He thought back to his time in the hospital but shook it off.
The painful question bubbled in his throat, the thought of asking it made him so dizzy, spots started to appear before his eyes.“Why did you keep me?Wouldn’t it have been easier if—”
“If what?We’d gotten rid of you?Shit, Brody.I regret many things in life, but having you isn’t one of them.Should I have wrapped it up?Probably.Should I have convinced your mom to take a chance on us?I was older, and her family wanted nothing to do with their unwed pregnant daughter.Did I use the power of my position, and the fact she didn’t have many options to get her to accept?Maybe.Abortion wasn’t an option.I’d always hoped to find a wife who wanted to stay home and raise our family.But your mom didn’t want that.I realize now there were signs of how stifled she felt.”
Cujo digested what his dad was saying.“Why are you making excuses for her?”
“I’m not.I guess time and perspective have made me realize I was probably more to blame than she was.”
“Don’t ever say that, Dad.You did everything you could for us.She’s the one who bailed.It’s on her.Not you.”
“She had her own plan, Brody, and having you threw her off it.”
Cujo cleared his throat.“So you do think I’m responsible.”
“I didn’t say that, Brody.This just isn’t coming out right.If anything threw her off, I did.There were so many things she wanted to do.She just couldn’t do them withus.”
“So you compromise.Wait.Try,” Cujo yelled.“You don’t bail.You don’t leave three kids behind.Please tell me you don’t think this is going to lead to some kind of fucked-up reconciliation between the two of you.”
