“Agreat job?” He sneers. “I can’t believe you even entertained the idea of getting a tattoo. What were youthinking? Going through life like that lout she married?”
The safest approach has always been to let him rant and say nothing. But right now, I’m keen to shorten this encounter as much as possible.
“How can I help you, Dad?” I ask quietly, sipping my tea even though it’s too hot.
He glowers. “Straight to the point, is it? No ‘how are you, Dad’?” He gives me the filthiest look her can muster. “Clearly I failed somewhere along the line. Between your rude tone and that ridiculous tattoo, you’ve really disappointed me, Jacob.”
A small, old part of me still cringes under his condemnation… until I imagine Tippi sitting beside me. I picture her taking my hand, ignoring him completely, smiling at me like I’m the only one who matters. It helps.
“What are you mooning at?” he snaps.
I pull my focus back to him. “Nothing.” He doesn’t get access to my private life. Not now, not ever. Certainly not the autism diagnosis. He’d have a field day with that.
“You’re just like your mother.” He spits it out like an insult.
“Thank you.” I keep my face neutral. I am not dancing to his tune.
He scowls. “And how is she? Still living it up in fairyland with her new chump?”
“She’s happy, yes.” Because Bob, her new partner, treats her like she’s a blessing in his life rather than an inconvenience.
“Simple things please simple minds,” he says, dripping contempt. Before I can tell him to have some respect, he barrels on. “Your brother and sister haven’t bothered themselves to contact me in years.Years.Ungrateful little brats. I’ve never even met my grandchild.”
Rhiannon’s five, and he hasn’t stirred his stumps. I’m not sure he evenknowsabout the twins’ existence. I say nothing. It’s not my place to update him.
“That husband of hers hasn’t helped matters, I’m certain,” hecontinues. “Everything went south when he showed up. She was always a problem child, and he enables -”
“Where is this conversation going, Dad?” I cut in, still polite but firmer now. “I can’t imagine you asked me here just to vent your spleen.”
“Vent my…” He looks scandalised. “Keep a civil tongue in your head! After the way I’ve been treated, Idemandat least that.”
“I’m sorry you feel disrespected. I only want to know what I can do for you.”
He mutters into his water. “Make them talk to me again.”
I blink. “Pardon?”
“Your mother is less important. We’re divorced, after all, thanks to her tantrum and her silly infatuation.” He waves a hand, dismissing the mother of his children as though swatting a fly. “But I don’t see why I’m being given the silent treatment by my own children. I deserve better than that. I’m yourfather.”
Taking my silence as agreement, he keeps going. “I raised you.Fed you. Housed you. Paid for your education. To be ignored like this is too much. The three of youoweme.”
I count in my head. One, two, three… ten. It doesn’t help much. A break from his attitude has made its shape clearer than ever. He doesn’t see us as people with feelings and boundaries. We’re objects that aren’t performing to his liking.
“What do you expect me to do about it?” I ask. The irritation is there now, and maybe that’s appropriate. Maybe it’stimesomeone spoke to him the way he speaks to others.
Dad’s eyes flash. “Iexpectyou to tell them how ridiculously selfish and immature they’re being, and make them call me.Tell themto come and see me. Bring them yourself, even.”
He clearly has no idea how outrageous he sounds.
“No,” I say.
Just the one word, quietly spoken. His expression when I refuse him for the first time in my life is almost comical. I don’t care. The way Sadie hugged me after she finished my tattoo… He hasneverhugged me like that. He has never hugged any of us in any way, full stop.
“Have you taken leave of your senses, talking to me with such insolence?” he splutters.
“If anything, I think I’m finally in my right mind.” I stand to my full height, quietly pleased that I’m a good five inches taller. “W-we aren’t being selfish or immature,” I say, and even though my tongue catches, I keep going. “We’re living, breathing people with enough sense to recognise how t-toxic, unfeeling, unappreciative, and downright ill-mannered you are. And we also recognise that we’re under no obligation to put up with it, whatever you might think. You want us in your life?Earnit. Take a good, long look in the mirror anddo better.”
I said it. All of it.
