Page 82 of Forget About Me

The mom stands. “Oh, no. We’re so grateful you’ve taken such good care of him.”

“In fact, we’ll be happy to pay you for any vet bills, food—?” The dad’s reaching for his wallet.

“No.” I finally find my voice, but it comes out a bit harsh. I try to clear the debris from my wreck of a throat. “No, it’s fine.” I force a smile onto my face. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to get through the show tonight. It’s been a Herculean effort to keep a lid on my emotions as it is. But hey, that’s why they call it acting, right?

The mom gets them moving. “Okay, kiddos. Let’s give Lucky one last hug, and we’ll take him home in a couple of hours.”

Finally, after so many “last hugs” I’m about to roar with frustration, the family troops out the door, leaving me sitting in Janet’s office alone with Puck. Lucky. Whoever the fuck he is. He stares after them for a few moments, whining softly, before returning to my side.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you had another family?”

He doesn’t answer.

I fake my way through the show and somehow get myself back home. Without Puck riding shotgun, loneliness rips my battered heart to shreds. Instead of going to my place, I really go home. When my dad walks in the back door, I have no idea how long I’ve been staring at the well-worn surface of the kitchen table.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he says, looking back toward the den. “Something wrong with the TV?”

There’s no television in the garage apartment, so if I want to watch a game, I do it here. It’s a good way to spend time with the old guy.

“No. I, uh…” I scrub a hand over my face. “I had a pretty shitty day.” I look over at the clock. “I should go to bed, I guess.”

Problem is, I can’t seem to get out of this chair. “How’d you do it, Dad?”

Instead of answering, my dad plunks down two glasses and a bottle of Scotch, giving us each a hefty pour. “Do what?”

Picking up a glass, I stare at the brown liquid, the exact color of Lucy’s eyes. Puck’s too, for that matter. “Go on. After Mom died.”

He scrapes out a chair and sits down heavily. “I don’t know, Ben. I think I was pretty out of it for a long time. You were so little. Thank god your grandmother was there to step in. I was useless. If I’d had to take care of you by myself…” He shakes his head and lifts his glass.

The liquid burns through the numbness in my throat and chest. I wish it’d burn up my heart. Not like I need it anymore.

My dad clears his throat. “I wish… I wish I’d been a better father to you.”

Meeting his gaze, I open my mouth to disagree, but he shakes his head sharply. “I know I kept you at arm’s length. I see that now. I was just afraid. Afraid to let myself love anyone again. Though I did—I do—love you. I just…” He looks away.

I swirl the liquid in the glass and take another shot. He did do his best. I guess that’s all anybody can do. “I know. I get it. I love you too.”

After a few beats of silence, he looks around the kitchen. “Where’s the dog?”

“Yeah, well, that’s part of the shitty day.” I tell him what happened.

“What? How can they do that? You’ve had him for months, paid his vet bills. Don’t you have some kind of right to him?”

I swallow what’s left of my Scotch and slam the glass on the table. “I doubt it. Anyway, they have two little kids who’ve known him their whole lives. I can’t take him away from them.” The dog bed my dad put by the back door looks so sad I want to throw it away. “Gonna miss that little guy.”

My dad pours another round. “How’m I going to take a walk with Vera now?”

A laugh puffs past my lips. “I don’t know. You’ll have to be a man and ask her out without the dog, I guess.”

“Humph. I guess that applies to you, too.”

“Yeah, I pretty much fucked that up too.” I pick up the glass, then put it down again. “I have to go back to LA next week, right after the show closes. I don’t know what’s going to happen after that, whether Lucy wants me to come back.”

My dad looks like he’s going to say something but then just nods. “You’re always welcome here, for as long as you want.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I missed you, you know, when you were gone for so long.”

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