I have everything I’ve ever wanted, I’ve reached all of the professional milestones I’ve set out for myself, but I’m still struggling. I’m miserable in a game that I love down to my bones.
“Hey, morning, Dad. Is everything okay?” My voice is laced with concern as I answer. I haven’t heard from him in months.
“Fine, fine. I just thought I should check in.”
Hearing my dad’s voice for the first time since last Thanksgiving makes my eyes sting. I always know there is a possibility that he might disappear again, and unfortunately after the holiday last year, he did.
“Oh, okay. It’s good to hear from you,” I say, bringing the phone up to my ear. Last time we spoke, it was simply a text from him saying he was doing fine, just working a lot. I try really hard to be patient with my dad, to be someone who doesn’t judge him and still loves him no matter the stress or heartache that he may put me through.
At fifteen, my parents separated after my mom’s affair, and I haven’t seen her since. My dad had no idea how to cope or handle raising two teenage girls, so he found ways to distracthimself from the reality around him. He spent nearly every penny we had and owed bookies money every single weekend. His nights were spent at the poker table, betting on any game or race he could squander up money for, or gambling away his paychecks. Even on the nights he won, it was never in his pocket for long. More than once I’d come home from school to my room left in chaos after he’d torn it apart looking for my stash of money from my part-time job. Ever since, I’ve always been the adult in the relationship. I check on him more than he checks on me. I’m the responsible one, the reliable one.
My younger sister has basically given up on him and I just can’t bring myself to do that. He’s still able to hold a job for the most part, but he secludes himself a lot. He moved here to be closer to me during a time I finally thought he was getting himself back on track, but shortly after, he fell back into old habits again.
I know he has an addiction. I know that if my dad could turn back time, he probably never would have placed that first bet. His heart was broken, his world was shattered and he just wanted a way to distract himself from all of it. I’m able to empathize with him, even though I don’t agree with it. Maybe it makes me naïve to believe in him every time he tells me he’s getting better, but my heart won’t let me give up on him.
“I was going through some things and found stuff here that belongs to you and your sister… I, uh, I don’t know if you still want any of it, but you can come take a look at everything one of these days.”
“Yeah, of course,” I answer eagerly.
His words are clear and sure. He doesn’t sound exhausted like he’s been up all night or irritated by a bet gone wrong. He sounds rejuvenated almost. But I won’t let myself get my hopes up.
“How have things been, Dad?”
“Oh, you know. Busy… same old stuff.”
I sigh, same old stuff. After a few more minutes of small talk, he has to go and we end the call. Our conversation wasn’t anything monumental, but at least hearing from him gives me some small sense of relief.
As if on cue to lighten my mood, Nate shows up at my door to go get something to eat.
“What’s with the face?” He lets himself in and immediately heads for my candy dish.
“Eventually, I’m going to collect a reimbursement on all those pink Starbursts. And as for my face… I just spoke to my dad.”
“Shit. Really? How is he?” Nate’s the only person who really knows about my family life. The less people who know my baggage, the better.
“Says he’s good.” I shrug. “You know; I take everything with a grain of salt… we’ll see. It was nice to hear from him. I just always hope he’s doing okay, you know?”
Nate’s head nods up and down as he follows me over to my bedroom while I grab my shoes out of my closet. He lifts his arms, grabbing the top of the door frame and leans forward a little. His shirt lifts up as he does and I glance down, noticing the V shape where his shorts are hanging low. Knowing what’s down just a little further, I shift my eyes back up to his face before any involuntary blush happens.
“Well, let's go eat our feelings. I could use the distraction too.” His lips move into a straight line.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask, grabbing my crossbody bag from the closet.
“Just stuff.”
“Wow, you’re so detailed,” I joke. He tugs my ponytail playfully as I walk by and then follows me as I side-step him in the doorway to the living room. “Let’s go, Mr. Mysterious.”
Nate and I begin walking downtown and over to a sushi restaurant on the river trail near the water. It’s pretty busy down here, so we have to wait a little while for our table.
“So, are you going to tell me what you needed the distraction from?” Nate’s features almost look tormented when I ask him.
“Honestly, I just didn’t want to be home alone. I worked out this morning and ended up hanging back to talk with Alex Farr a little bit. He’s a good kid, he’s excited… he reminds me of myself actually.” He shakes his head laughing.
“He’s come to me a few times for advice on things and I just… I want to help him, but I don’t feel like I’m in any position to be handing out advice or mentorship. I’m afraid I’ll just suck the life out of him.”
“You’re great at giving advice. You had help when you first entered the league, remember? One of the veteran players took you under his wing. You looked up to him and talked about him constantly. Be that for someone else.” I lean myself against the railing as we wait for our table.
Nate’s hand runs through his hair for at least the third time in the last few minutes. If he doesn’t tell me with his words, I can always read his body language. He’s stressed.
