Page 47 of Rebound

I sigh and sit on the bed. He does the same, but I can sense there’s more.

“Then why are you so mad?”

“Have you ever seen my dad before? Has he ever been to one of my games? Do you remember seeing him at Jasmine’s christening?” I think back and can’t think of a single time I’ve met his father. “Well, that’s because he never leaves the house.”

I tilt my head to the side and ask, “What? Is he on house arrest or something?”

He smiles for the first time since we got here. “God, no. I wish. At least that would make sense, but he’s never been in trouble with the law. You have to leave the house for that to happen in most cases. He has all these issues. When I was a kid, he came home one day, sat his butt on the couch and never got up. Do you want to know why I had to learn to cook when I was ten? Because I had no one else to do it. My mom, or the woman I was made to believe was my mom, had moved out, but I’d see her sometimes. After a few years, that stopped. She met someone else, divorced my dad, left town, and left me behind.She had another son, and I only saw him like twice. She made sure to tell me he wasn’t my brother.”

“Oh, Seth,” is all I can think to say. “I had no idea.”

“I don’t want pity,” he says.

I raise both hands. “Okay. You won’t get any then,” I snap, which makes him smile again.

“I spent my childhood taking care of him. I’d have to get on my bike and go to the store for groceries. At least we qualified for food stamps once he got on disability. Instead of being a kid and being carefree, I was turned intohiscaregiver. The worst part is, I’m stuck with his ass because he has no one else. I wish I didn’t give a damn and I could live my life without him. Lord knows I’ve tried. He’s like a fucking curse I can’t get rid of.” He drops himself on the bed and covers his face with his big hands. I sit next to him, putting my hand on his thigh and rub it.

“You’ve been given a shitty hand,” I say. “I won’t pretend to understand how you feel because that’s not my experience, and I don’t want to minimize what you’ve been through.”

“I never had a chance to be a kid. Now, I’m a dad, and that’s fine. I love Jasmine, and she’s my responsibility. She didn’t ask to be here, and she deserves everything.” He sits up abruptly. I move my hand from his lap, but he lifts it and puts it back there. “But I was supposed to behisresponsibility, not the other way around.”

“You’re right. That’s the way it should be. You deserved a childhood.” He rests a hand on mine.

“And he just expects me to come to him every time so he can play the part of a doting father and grandfather. I still have to take care of him when I’m here. I do all the cooking because he claims I’m better at it than he is. I make sure he’s taking his medication and seeing the therapist.”

“How does he see a therapist if he won’t leave the house?”

“One comes to him. It costs me a fucking arm and a leg.” I know the last part is his anger talking. The man makes thirty million dollars a year, and that doesn’t include endorsements. “Do you know he refused treatment at first? He had a full-on fucking meltdown and ugly cried. I threatened to cut him out of my life if he didn’t. I wasn’t budging on that.”

I look around the room and ask, “This house looks new. How did he move in?”

“I have no idea,” he admits. “He was freaking out about it, and I lost my patience. I told him he could stay at the trailer, or he could have the doctor club him over the head for all I cared.”

“Seth,” I admonish.

“Not my finest moment, but I was dealing with a lot at that time. That’s when the three women came forward saying I was the father of their kids. The owner was on my ass. I lost a huge endorsement deal, and we lost the championship that year in the seventh game. It was a shit show.”

“I get it.” I really don’t, but I think that’s what he needs to hear right now. We sit in the room in silence, and I inch closer. I channel my own childhood and remember how my mom would just be with me in silence whenever I was upset. She would listen and even if she disagreed, she never minimized my feelings. I decide I’m going to do the same with Seth moving forward.

There’s a knock on the door, and Seth groans.

“Sethie,” Pete says from the other side of the room, “come have a snack. I’ve missed you, Son. It’s so lonely around here. The housekeeper is great, but she’s not family. One time she brought her little grandson because there was no one to watch him. I told her she could bring him anytime. He’s four and we spent the day watching cartoons.”

“You can come in,” Seth says, and the door opens. He’s holding Jasmine, who holds her hands out to Seth when shesees him. Pete puts her down, and she runs to us and climbs the bed. She sits on Seth’s lap and rests her head on his chest.

I smile at the sweet scene and run my hand over her little head. She gives me a smile that’s just like her father’s.

“Nom nom,” she says.

“Maybe you can make us some sandwiches,” Pete suggests.

“You know what, Pete? I can make some bomb-ass sandwiches. Come show me around your kitchen, and I’ll make us some lunch.”

He offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet. I follow him out the door and down the stairs. I finally get to look around downstairs, and it’s a beautiful, clean house. I open the fridge and pull out cold cuts and cheese. I notice a rotisserie chicken and pull it out too.

“How do you feel about chicken salad sandwiches? I make good ones.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m not much of a cook,” he says. He looks toward the stairs and back at me. “Seth’s a good boy,” he whispers. “And you seem like a nice girl.” He smiles, and I see some of Seth in him. I smile back.

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