Page 17 of Parrish

A frown ticks the corners of my lip as I add another failed job to the growing list. I can set Reina up for the future, make sure she and Danny don’t want for anything and ask my brothers to look out for the two of them, but it’s not the same as being present in their life. The minute those bars close on me, is the minute Reina becomes Danny’s mother and his father. It’s when she goes from having a partner in life, to having no one.

My son will grow into a man and he’ll remember all the hardships his mother faced alone, and he’ll revert to this very conversation with disgust. He won’t see me as the hero but rather as the villain. The man who failed his mother and abandoned him.

“It is my job,” I tell him. “But I won’t be able to do it very well where I’m going,” I continue, drawing out a heavy sigh. There is no easy way to explain to a young boy his father is going to prison for thirteen years and Reina and I decided not to fill his head with all the details. When he gets older and wants the truth, she can tell him or if I’m still sane, she can bring him to visit me and I will explain. Then and only then, will I share with him the sins of my life.

“Where are you going?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Daddy has to go away for a while,” I reply hoarsely.

“Can I come?”

“No, son, you can’t,” I say, silently hoping he grows up to be nothing like me. Wishing he never sees the inside of a cage. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone either,” I lie. If thirteen years feels like a lifetime to me, I can only imagine it’s an eternity for a little boy. “But I’ll call you every chance I can and now that you’re learning how to write, you’ll be able to send me letters. We can be pen pals,” I suggest, roughly.

Knowing I won’t be able to watch him with my own eyes as he grows into a man is enough to make my stomach twist in knots. The thought of relying on half-ass notes written on scraps of paper makes me want to fucking die.

“But I won’t see you?” he questions. There is no mistaking the fear in his voice or the subtle quiver of his lip—both of which break my heart.

It’s funny how a man can live with a broken mind but not a broken heart.

“I’ll be too far for you to visit,” I say, cupping his cheeks in my hands. No father wants to be the cause of his child’s tears and as they trickle from the corners of his eyes, I quickly thumb them away, pretending they’re not another sign of failure.

“Please don’t cry,” I beg as the tears continue to fall from his eyes. “Danny, I need you to pay close attention to what I’m about to say to you,” I whisper, leaning my forehead against his again. “I love you very much. You will always be my little boy and I’ll tell you something else, something you don’t know and may be too young to realize, but one day, when you’re older, I want you to think about this and I want you to remember you were and will always be the joy in my life. You saved me. You gave me purpose and if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be half the man I am.”

I know he’s too young to understand what I’m saying but I pray my words resonate with him. I hope they provide him with comfort when my arms can’t. When he doubts my love, I hope he remembers how my heart bled with every word.

“I’m going to think about you every day and when you miss me, remember your daddy is missing you ten times more,” I add hoarsely. “You and me, Danny, we’ll always be connected here…” I say, pausing to drop my hand to his chest. With my other hand, I take his and lay it over my heart. “…and here.”

“I love you, Daddy,” he hiccups through his tears.

“I love you too, son,” I murmur, pressing my lips to the top of his head.

“And I’ll take care of Mommy too,” he whispers, wiping away his cheeks with the backs of his chubby hands. “I’ll make sure she knows you love her too.”

“Always,” I rasp, forcing another sad smile. “You’re the man of the house now.”

“Does that mean I have to take out the garbage?”

A chuckle sounds from the back of my throat as I tousle his hair.

“I think you have a couple of years before your mother starts giving you chores,” I reply. Deciding we’ve had enough of the heavy shit, that I want to give him something more than tears, I lift him off my bike and set him down on his feet.

“Why don’t you go grab your mitt, so we can have one more catch?”

His eyes light up just as they do on Christmas morning and I smile despite realizing I won’t see him open another present.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” he says as he starts to run towards the house.

“I’m right here, son.”

For now.

The voice of my maker calls, taunting me as I watch Danny push open the door and disappear into the house.

Dropping my head into my hands, I roughly rub my temples, willing the vile cunt to shut the fuck up. The bitch has the rest of my life to fuck with me, my family only gets me until the sun rises.

“Dad?”

Pulling my hands away from my face, I lift my chin and follow the sound of my beautiful daughter’s voice. Standing in the open doorway, she wraps her arms around herself as she stares at me with those sad eyes of hers. Dark like mine and just as tortured.

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