He opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again. “I’ve said too much.”
“You’ve already said it, so tell me,” I argue.
“Maybe you should talk to your mother more. I don’t know how much she’s told you, and I’m not trying to come between you and her. That’s not my intention.” He looks at me cautiously, like he’s not trying to cause an argument.
“I’m a grown man. I’m twenty-nine. I can deal with mom after you tell me what you meant by ‘take care of us.’ Please, just tell me,” I beg, leaning forward while I rest my elbows on my knees.
He lays back in his chair, propping both of his arms on the armrests. He’s thinking, trying to decide if it’s his place, even though he’s the one that slipped up.
He puts his hands out and finally says, “You can see that I’m doing very well for myself. I don’t need to tell you that.”
He’s a drug lord. I knew it.
He angles his head while keeping his eyes on me. “No, I’m not part of some drug cartel or mob.”
I twist my face in confusion, splaying my hands outward, and then clasp them together again, wondering why he would say that. He chuckles and smiles at my reaction.
“You don’t think people wonder that? At least, people who don’t know me. I’m a private person, so people assume.” He shrugs. “It’s kind of fun.”
“So.” I pause for a moment, then continue, “What do you do for a living?”
He gives me a warm smile and says, “I’m an engineering executive at an employee-owned engineering and consulting firm.”
Shit. So, he’s a genius. And he makes a shit load of money. I don’t say anything. I just wait for him to continue.
“I’ve been helping your mom support you and your sister. It was the least I could do if I wasn’t going to be there—in your life.”
I let out a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s called child support. You kind of had no choice there.”
“Fair, but your mom didn’t ask for money or come after me for it when she found out how well I was doing. We spoke over the phone. I told her how much I would send her each month, and she wasn’t having it. Your mom can be a scary woman when she holds her ground on something, but I told her to think about you and Addie. How much it would benefit all of you. Affording school, clothes, sports, hobbies. I wanted you two to be as comfortable as you can. I wanted you two to achieve whatever it was that you wanted to do in life. Help put you through college. So, I’ve been sending her two checks a month ever since you were ten.”
I think back and realize just how much mom has given us. How she afforded all those extra things, and she didn’t seem to stress or struggle. I was on the surf team in high school, and she paid for everything. She paid for Addie’s car when she turned sixteen.
I was able to get a scholarship for college, but she still took care of all my books, the laptop I needed, and my dorm room. And then Addie when she went to school. It didn’t click until now that mom wouldn’t have been able to afford that, especially when she was just a florist. You don’t pay attention to that stuff as a kid.
I swallow down the tears that try to well-up in my eyes. I try to distract myself from those emotions as much as possible. I rub my hand on my jaw, the stubble gently scratching my palm, and then run my hand through my hair.
“Rowan, I’ve waited years to apologize to you. I want to apologize to your sister. I would love to have you two back in my life.”
“Why didn’t you ever come to us? Why did you wait until one of us went to you?” I ask harshly.
“Trust me, there were many times that your mother and I talked about it. We both didn’t know when the right time would be. As the years went on.” He shrugs. “I thought maybe it was best to leave you and your sister alone. As long as you two were happy, then I was happy.”
“But I wasn’t happy. Dad, when you left, I thought you hated me. I questioned myself every day. I wondered what I did wrong to make you leave. I would tell myself I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t the son you wanted, so you left.”
His shoulders fall. “Rowan.” He looks away, cursing at himself, and then back to me. “I am so sorry that I put you through that. I’m going to regret how I went about things for the rest of my life. I was a coward. I will never forgive myself for putting you through that.” He puts a hand on his chest. “From what your mom has told me; you sound like an amazing son who treats your mother so well. I’m so proud of you for the things you’ve accomplished in your life, and I hope that you will allow me to now be part of that.
“I want to be part of the milestones you still need to accomplish. I want to meet the person you want to marry. I want to find out if I have the privilege of being a grandpa. I want to meet Milo, tour your brewery, and catch up on everything that I’ve missed out on. But that’s only if you will let me. I will not make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
I let myself go and let the tears fall from my eyes. The man I thought didn’t love me, appreciate me, or want me—it was the complete opposite. He thought about me every day, just like I thought about him every day. He was and is proud of me. I’m not the fuck up I thought I was. He’s proud of me.Me.
I place my elbows on my knees again, covering my face and hiding my emotions. I’m so wrapped up in it, none of this feels real, not until I feel a hand on my shoulder. A strong grip that holds on to me. I look down, noticing my dad's Vans. And I can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of me.
I suddenly feel his hand lift off my shoulder and I’m sure I’ve startled him. I pull myself back up and look at him. The confusion knits his brows together.
“Your shoes,” I say weakly and point to them.
He looks down, lifting on foot before setting it back down. “My shoes?”
