“Maybe.Eventually,” I allowed.“He really didn’t like the Marshes though.He told me as much a few times.And said some shit about Diego being… effeminate.”
Still couldn’t make myself say it.Jesus, what a baby.
“I know he would’ve come around,” she said after another silent moment.“He wasn’t hateful.”
“Yeah,” I said.Because he wasn’t; not intentionally.Just in that typical old white guy way that made my life increasingly more difficult.In that typical small-town way that had Diego pissing in a stall instead of using a urinal next to some other dude all through high school.
I thought it was so weird that Diego did that, the first time I noticed.And then I realized.
Mom said, “He wasn’t.He just—”
“Mom.”I shook my head.“I love him.He was my dad.I’ll always love him, and I felt loved by him.”
He always had time for me.Was always proud of me.Was at every game and event, and supportive no matter how bad or good I played.Helovedme unconditionally.
I don’t think anyone’s parents really know them, not completely.But I couldn’t help feeling like if my dad ever knew all of me, he’d have a really, really fucking hard timelikingme.And I didn’t know what to do with that.
“Of course, honey.”She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“I’m just…” I sighed and squeezed back.“I guess I’m unpacking some stuff, since it fell apart with Jennie.Regrets I have.”
“You’re only twenty-six.You can’t have that many regrets.”
“I thought I had a lot more than I do,” I admitted.“So that’s been cool to figure out.”
“Talk to me about it.”She took her hand back and started eating again.
I considered the request.Dad dying had definitely brought us closer, and not just because I’d moved back home.I think we both realized how fast we could be left alone in the world, especially since we were on a one-phone-call-a-month schedule for a while there.Largely my fault, since I felt kind of shitty about letting my parents down football-wise, and pulled away for a while.Losing Dad suddenly really put shit into perspective, though, and Mom was easy to talk to.
Mostly.
She tried again.“What did you expect to regret?”
Jennie.My GPA.Letting my school, my county, my parents down, but that was really tied to, “Football.”
“Ah, sweetie.”She smiled knowingly.
“But I don’t.I wish no one knew I ever played, sometimes, but other than that, I had my fun.And I still love the game.”
“Did we push you too hard?”She’d asked me before, once or twice.It must’ve been something that worried her.
But my answer was always the same: “I don’t think so.I didn’t resent anything you did.I don’t think I ever could.I’ve had a charmed life thanks to you two.”
“That’s all we wanted for you.A good start.And I’m so proud of you.”
I nodded, and I tried not to wonder how this lunch would’ve gone if Dad was at the table with us.
“Bring Diego over sometime soon,” she suggested after a few moments of silent eating.
I smiled.“I’ll try.He’s a little skittish about commitment, I think—which, fair enough, but he might not be too keen on family events yet.”
“Annie always speaks highly of him; apparently he’s a very helpful stepson.”
“Seems like she’s been good for his dad,” I agreed.“Mellowed him out a little.”
“He was…” She made a face.
“A dick, yeah,” I supplied with a snort.“Diego used to have a hard time with him.But I guess they’re okay now.”
