“I spent over four years away from here. If I’m going to work for you and Ledger, I need to know you actually see me as an adult. I’m not some kid who needs babysitting at away games or who you need to punish for whatever screwups you think I’ll make next. I’m not perfect, but you need to stop tiptoeing around me.”
My mom lifted her eyes to meet mine, shock coloring her expression. “What? I never?—”
I shook my head, cutting her off before she could launch into whatever speech she had ready. “We’ve got a lot more to unpack, and the dinner table isn’t the place for it, but I need you to get something straight: I’m a person. I’m an adult. I had no idea that when my own employer—Ledger—hired me, there was no space for health insurance. I didn’t know when I turned twenty-six I’d be kicked off your plan becauseyou never told me.”
I closed my eyes for a second, trying to keep my temper from boiling over, and set my fork down with more force than necessary. “Today, I had no clue I was supposed to pick up Evie from a different location because the email went toyou.Yet, the whole time, I was stressing out, worrying about how pissed you’d be, thinking I did something wrong when I followed this damn paper to a T.”
I pulled the crumpled sheet from my pocket and set it on the table.
From the other room, Evie’s head popped up, her curious eyes watching us.
I forced a smile, waving her off. “Sorry, bud. Everything’s fine.”
She smiled, not seeming to realize that Mom and I were having a heated conversation, or rather, I was having the conversation with Mom.
“Austin—”
“It is my fault. You’re right.” We both turned around, and Ledger was standing in the doorway. He was running a hand through his beard. “I think I owe you an apology.”
I nodded, tears threatening to fall again. “It’s?—”
Ledger held up a finger and then walked over to Evie, giving her a big kiss and telling her there was a surprise building set on her bed if she wanted to run upstairs to play.
She squealed with excitement and ran upstairs, leaving the room quiet.
Ledger pulled out the chair beside me and sat down. “I didn’t want her to hear.”
“I understand,” I muttered, hanging my head in shame.
Once again, I felt like the disappointment in the family. I couldn’t even handle a simple conversation with my mom without screwing it up.
Ledger leaned forward, his voice sincere. “Austin, I don’t know how to be a dad. Everything I’ve learned, I’ve learned because of Evie. Before Evie, there was you.” Ledger leaned back in his chair. “I knew what happened to your biological dad. I wanted to somehow give you that mentorship role the best I could, especially since we were both playing hockey.”
There was a long, heavy pause. “I treated you like I did Evie because that’s the only way I knew how to show love, but that was wrong. She was a baby, and you’re an adult. You need to make your own choices while I support you. I can’t look downat you even if you make decisions I wouldn’t have chosen for my life.”
His words caught me off guard. For the first time, Ledger wasn’t trying to control or judge me—he was trying to figure out how to connect.
“I treated you like a child, and you’re right. I should have been there for you. I should have supported you and met you where you were at, but I fucked up. I thought that by offering you a job, you’d come back to us here. I thought I was helping you out and helping my wife get closer to her son again. There has been an obvious rift in the family, and I wanted to help. I did what you asked, gave Nova the money you told me to, but I didn’t realize that by sending her that money, I’d leave you with?—”
“No.” I stood from the chair and looked down at my hands, expecting to see the familiar shake. For a moment, I turned away from my mom and Ledger and brought my hands up, but it didn’t come. I had eighty-eight days to figure this out. “I would have given everything to Nova. You did exactly what I asked.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I—”
Ledger stood and walked to me, lowering his voice an octave. “I noticed the way you never touched Evie. I know when you weren’t sober, you’d never hold her.”
My mom started to cry at the table, and I couldn’t look at her. He was right. I never held Evie. Even though she was older, the most I’d ever done was hold her hand or lift her up and down to get where she wanted to go, but I’d never shown affection toward her.
“I was too scared back then that...” I swallowed, the lump in my throat hardening. “I was terrified I’d hurt her. I wasn’t sober. She was so fragile and small, and I looked at her and saw all the goodness in the world. I didn’t want to touch her with myevil.” I drew in a shaky breath. “And... I was jealous. Everyone was caught up in her, in the newness of her, and I felt like they’d forgotten about me. Like there was no room left for me anymore.”
“Honey.” My mom stood and wrapped me up in her arms, then pulled away but held onto my shoulders. “Do you still think that way?”
I shrugged. Did I still believe that I was inherently wrong? That I’d somehow gotten the DNA of my biological father, if I could even call him that? Absolutely. I couldn’t hold or touch Evie because I thought somehow I’d bleed drips of ink blot on her crisp innocence.
“I—Yes,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t see you that way at all,” she said, her eyes filled with sincerity.
