“If you don’t, I will.”
She scoffs. “Bring yourself back down to planet earth for a sec. Think about this. You can’t barge into our life and announce, ‘Daddy’s home.’ It doesn’t work like that. What Otis and I have is good.”
I don’t doubt that. She’s done a fantastic job of raising him so far.
But what happens when he starts to get inspired by outside influence?
He needs guidance. Male guidance. It’s easy for the world to infect your brain if you let it. Otis needs a grounding voice. He needs what I lacked when I was growing up. A father to keep him in check.
Carmen is doing a good job. She deserves a son who’s going to be there for her. She deserves a son who’s present, who puts the phone down and connects when the family dynamics start to shift.
Idealism catches you young. Once you’re in that net, there’s no escape. You learn the hard way and spend the rest of your life wallowing in regret.
It’s very obvious that Otis has my genes.
So I dread to think what other characteristics of mine he has.
“I understand.” I sit back into the couch, netting my hands. “I get why you kept him from me. I was an asshole. At that time, I would have made a shit father.”
Carmen tenses her jaw. She wants to say that I’d still be shit now, for the sake of the argument, but she knows I’m different. When I was playfighting her son, I felt her eyes on me.
“You can’t tell him. It’s best if he doesn’t know.”
Her eyes suggest something else. This isn’t just about me coming between mother and son.
“You’re afraid I’m gonna leave again, and you can’t bear the thought of Otis going through the same thing you did.”
She pauses for a beat before saying, “Not true.”
“True,” I counter. “You’re afraid of me, but you’re more afraid of yourself.” I narrow my eyes. “You think you’re letting yourselfdown—and Otis—the closer you get to us. You don’t think you can have both without forfeiting one.”
Carmen throws her arms over her chest defensively. “Both of what?”
Loveseems too much of a stretch, so I settle for “Funandfamily.”
Her eyes ball up with scrutiny. “That’s right. You can’t have both.”
“Ever considered the possibility of fun and family merging into one?”
“Somebody always pays the price, and I will not let that be Otis,” she insists.
My mother used to have photographs pitched up all over the place. Carmen only has a few, and the same faces are all in each one. She has a small family. One that only consists of two members. She must be used to people letting her down.
Guilt strikes my chest.
I was the one who used to do the letting down.
“He’s a good kid,” I say. Best to steer the conversation away before she resents me anymore. “And you’re a good mom.”
“Thanks.” She flashes me a sheepish smile and jumps up, disappearing into the kitchen.
There isn’t really much to do around here so I hop up and follow her, returning to the two mugs of tea that are now lukewarm.
Carmen takes a sip of hers and downplays the disgust. There’s nothing worse than a beverage when it’s that in-betweentemperature. But Carmen has to find a way to keep her hands busy so I don’t see them shaking.
I chance a hand on the small of her back. When she doesn’t pull away, I say, “This is your life too, you know. You’re allowed to have fun.”
“Easy for you to say when you don’t have responsibility.”
