Page 82 of Rebound

“I’m going to annihilate you next time,” she threatens.

Then she grabs my hair and pulls it before jumping off me. She runs away before I can get her, but I admire the view.

Chapter 51

Seth

While Layla does her nightly reading with Jasmine, I walk down the hall to my father’s room. I don’t remember the last time I sought him out or the last time I went into his room. I stopped doing it when we were in the trailer, and once I went to college, I only stayed there a handful of times.

When he moved here, I had the trailer dismantled, and other than when I did the walkthrough of this house after construction, I’ve never stepped foot in his bedroom.

All the memories I have of his old bedroom are negative. He piled it with so much crap, it was hard to get the door open. After a while, he gave up and would sleep on the couch. He was on that thing day and night, and I only wish I could have set it on fire myself when it came time to move.

It’s strange to see him outside, especially three times in two days. I didn’t believe him when he said he wanted to go out to dinner and that he had made a reservation, but I was wrong because he did both things.

Dr. Reynolds met us here and rode in my car with us. The restaurant is in the mall, and I had to drop them off at the entrance so I could park. The reservation was early. Too early for me to eat dinner, but I guess he wanted to have it at a slowtime of day. By the time I parked and got inside, they were seated in a private room.

Dr. Reynolds sat next to my dad and every few minutes, he would remind him to do his breathing exercises.

“You’re here with me and your family,” he had whispered. “Breathe like we practiced.”

“How much do you think this is costing me?” I had whispered to Layla who elbowed me in the ribs. “I guess I’m buying his dinner too.”

“You are, so hush.” She looked at me and widened her eyes as if she were daring me to contradict her. I never had a woman boss me around before, but it works for Coach and Chastain. Not that I’ll ever be a simp like them but having a woman in my life is not so bad. On the contrary. It’s quite good.

When our server comes, Layla orders a cocktail, but I stick to water since I’m driving everyone.

“What are you having, Dad?” I asked a few minutes later.

The drinks are delivered, and Layla offers me some of hers. It’s so good, I drink half of it.

“Keep it,” she says and orders another.

The dinner is almost normal, even though I don’t remember a single time before today that I had dinner out with my father. Dad orders steak and shrimp, but only eats half. He’d normally eat twice as much when I make it at home. He sweats through his clothes despite the cool room, but Layla keeps the conversation going, and I focused on my own dinner and my daughter and let the doctor handle my father. Lord knows I’m paying him enough. He should do his damn job.

By the time dinner is over and we get back to the car, I can tell my dad is relieved. Instead of playing with Jasmine like I expect when we get back to the house, he goes to his room and hasn’t come out. Of course, Layla insists I gocheck on him.

I stand outside his door for a full five minutes. I know he’s in there because not only can I hear the television, but the light is also on. After debating on whether I should leave, I knock on the door. When he doesn’t respond, I turn the knob and go inside. He’s starting to sit up on the bed when I walk in.

“Oh, Sethie. I was coming to open the door for you.”

I look around the room, and I’m shocked to see that it’s free of clutter. Then I remember I gave the housekeeper explicit orders to clean his room twice a week and to throw away any crap he has in here.

He groans as he gets up. It’s almost as if he’s twenty years older than his forty-six years.

“Are you okay?” I ask as I look down at him. He nods without making eye contact with me. “You don’t have to push yourself.” I almost want to bite my tongue at the absurdity of my statement. He’s been outside a few times in ten years. That’s the opposite of pushing oneself. I don’t want to say that, though, so I shut up.

“I can’t do this anymore, Seth. I can’t be in this prison anymore.”

“So, don’t. You’re the one who put yourself in this prison, Dad.” In no mood to listen to him feeling sorry for himself, I stand to leave. I did what Layla asked. I checked on him, and he’s fine.

“You think I did this to myself?” I pause mid-step at his question before I turn to face him. He’s looking up at me now with a mixture of pain and anger on his face. I always try to avoid talking about his issues at all costs, but I will send the occasional jab. He never responds, so this question takes me by surprise.

“Who else? I don’t remember anyone locking you in the house and preventing you from leaving. I remember begging you to come out. Come to one of my games. Do something withme, but you wouldn’t. Hell, you wouldn’t even do anything with me inside the house.”

“I couldn’t,” he corrects. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“But you know whatI’vebeen through. You should since you’re the one who put me through it,” I counter. “Don’t play with me. I can match you fucked up childhood for fucked up childhood.”

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