His voice is nowhere near what it usually is. There’s a hiss of distrust and accusation that I’ve never heard in it before.
“We didn’t plan for it to happen,” says Elliot, trying to soften the blow.
“No, but I’m glad it did,” I say. “I love Elliot very mu—”
“Not cool, Stu,” says Jeff, mouth and eyes so hard he almost looks unrecognizable. “Not cool at all. You’re my age. And he’s like…”
It occurs to me that Jeff isn’t crystal clear on how old Elliot is, and my blood starts to boil. Seriously boil. I feel heat in my face, down my chest and arms and all the way to the palms of my hands.
Is this guy seriously going to have a problem with this when he doesn’t even know how old his own son is?
Jeff shakes his head at me, lips twisted in disapproval. “Not digging the whole vibe here,” he says, waving at the space between us. He takes a couple of steps back, eyes still on me. “Think I’m gonna take off.”
I don’t need to look down at Elliot to know how he is. I feel his fury. His whole body is stiff with it.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not!” His voice is loud and harsh. Strong. Strong in a way I’ve never heard from him before. I reach down and take his hand in mine, squeezing to let him know I’m here. That I have him and support him. I have about a million things I’d like to say to Jeff right now, all of them relationship-ending. I’m happy to do it, but glancing at Elliot, I see that he needs to be the one to say it. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you honestly thinkyouget a say in who I love? You don’t even fucking know me.”
Jeff flinches as if he’s been slapped. His arms drop to his sides, beers suddenly heavy. He falters. Opening his mouth and clamping it shut. He does it several times, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he tries to find the right words.
“You’re not wrong,” he says eventually.
“Oh, I know I’m not wrong. I don’t need you to tell me. I’m fully aware of all the ways you’ve failed me, thank you very much. I have a list as long as my arm of all the ways you’ve hurt me. I’mmorethan aware that you’ve always been a shit dad.” He takes a breath, and the wind leaves his sails. “What I don’t know is why? What did I ever do to you?”
“Elliot, no. It wasn’t, i-it isn’t.” Jeff closes his eyes and his chest heaves once. He sets the beers down on the step and steadies himself. “This is on me. It’s all on me. It’s never been you. I was just really, really fucking young when you were born. Young and dumb." He sighs heavily. "I cared so much what people thought of me. I still do, but I’m working on it. Back then, there was nothing I wouldn’t do to get people to think well of me. Nothing. I twisted myself in knots. It was exhausting, but it was going pretty well for me. I was popular. I was on the football team. I did everything right…until I got Vanessa pregnant. Carmel is a small town. You know what it’s like. It was all anyone could talk about. Her parents werefuriouswith me. Mine were too. Everyone blamed me, which feels understandable now, but it didn’t at the time. Then you were born, and you were so fucking small. Seriously”—he brackets his hands about a foot apart—“you were the size of a loaf of bread. Every time I came to see you, the second I touched you, someone would yell, ‘Watch his head!’ or ‘Support his neck!’ I was scared shitless. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with you. You were really squirmy. I was seriously scared of dropping you on your head.”
He tries for a smile, but it’s one of those that turns wobbly and then fades fast. “Vanessa just seemed to know how to be a parent. I don’t know how, but she did, and I didn’t. I tried really hard, but I could feel I was cracking from the pressure. I was in a really bad place, so I took a road trip to clear my mind. Getting away made me feel a little better, so I took another one. And another one. By the time I got back, and you’d sorted your wobbly head shit out, and I was starting to think there was a chance I could spend time with you without accidentally killing you, you’d started looking at me like this.” He waves a defeated hand in Elliot’s direction.
“And I don’t blame you. I get it. I took too long to get my shit together. I wasn’t there when you needed me. I let you down.” He takes a long breath through his nose and presses his lips together hard. “I know I fucked up, but it’s on me, not you. You were just a kid. You never did anything wrong, and, and, Idowant to know you. I just don’t know where to start.”
Elliot is quiet for a long while as Jeff’s words hang in the air. At last, there’s a forced sigh, a small quirk of lips, then, “Well, the first thing you should know about me is that Stuart’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Jeff smiles stiffly, nodding slowly and then smiling bigger. Smiling for real. Smiling with something that looks like the first sign of acceptance.
My lungs fill completely for the first time since he arrived and my spine slackens with relief. I don’t quite dare to hope that things are going to be perfect between Elliot and Jeff, but I’m starting to think they might be better than they have been.
“And the second thing is that I’m not in the market for a father figure. Believe me, that ship has sailed.” Hot, frothy amusement bubbles in my chest, and I squeeze Elliot’s hand hard, face flushing with the effort to keep a neutral expression. “But I dig having friends, and according to Stuart, you’re one of the best.”
When they hug this time, it’s different from the way it was before. It’s not awkward, and Elliot doesn’t pull back. Jeff holds on to him for a long time. A really long time, and when they pull away, Jeff’s eyes are wet in the corners.
“I brought blondies,” Jeff says to Elliot. “Not sure if you like them, but Stu and I always toss a few back when we get together.” Jeff’s eyes flick over to me, uncertain, brows raised in a question. “I mean, if you’re allow—”
“Jesus Christ, Jeff!” I laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “He’s twenty fucking four. Give the man a beer!”
29
Elliot
Eight Months Later
Itfeelsstrangetobe in here, sage-green and somber, faced off with Stuart’s big, imposing desk, butt cheeksnotquivering in fear. Very unusual. Feels pretty nice, actually, not that I don’t love the quivering and everything else that usually goes down in this room. It’s just that today isn’t that kind of day.
Stuart is sitting in his leather swivel chair, and I’m standing across from him, watching as he combs through my bank statements.
He looks up at last and places his ruler and highlighter back in the stationary canister on the left of the desk without having drawn a single line on a page. His eyes are soft and dewy, looking at me with so much love and pride I don’t need him to say it to know it’s there. I feel it.
“Well, it’s official, Elliot. You are out of debt.”
I whoop and jump up, pumping both arms in the air. “Yessss!”
“I knew you could do it.” He smiles. “In fact, I was so sure you would that I got you a little something to mark the occasion.”
