Page 61 of Mr. Red

“We’ll take two waters, please,” Matt tells the waitress as I glance over the menu.

Before she can walk away, I add, “I’ll take a margarita, please.”

We peruse the menus. Matt chooses seafood, surprising me.

“No steak and potatoes?” I tease.

“Since we’re at a seafood restaurant, figured I’d try it.”

I smile and lean forward. “What are these plans for tonight?”

“You’ll have to let the night unfold.”

“You can tell me what the plans are. I won’t tell anyone.” I sip my margarita.

“I like when you’re guessing.”

“Hmm. I would’ve never guessed you were a pilot.”

“I got my private pilot license once I was done with college. It’s only forty hours. Pretty easy.”

“You didn’t want to just be a passenger on a plane? It’s convenient, I hear. You could probably get first class all the time.”

“I like being in control.”

“No, really?” I deadpan.

He smirks. “My dad wasn’t always the best dad, but he did teach us that knowing how to do things yourself, makes you non-reliant on others. I like being as independent as possible. I can go wherever, whenever.” He pauses and takes a sip of water.

“What do you mean by ‘your dad wasn’t always the best dad?’”

He flicks his watch. I almost think he’s not going to answer, the pause is so long.

“Matt?”

“I didn’t have a lot growing up. My dad would go missing for days or weeks, spending money. My mom worked as a teacher and as you can imagine, the funds were low with only one working parent. On payday, my dad would squander almost everything on alcohol, drugs, gambling, other things I’m sure. He’d yell, break things, punch the walls. He never hit my mom, but the depreciating comments were bad too. I don’t know why she stayed with him. She looks for the good in everyone and wants to be of service to God or some shit. I needed to make sure I was never in the same position I was in when I was younger. I made sure I had options and a way to help my mom.”

Based on what he’s telling me, I understand the reasons Matt is hard to get to know.

“What’s your relationship with your dad like now?”

Matt avoids my eyes, staring at his drink. “He’s been sober for fourteen years. Seeing how he acted turned me off to alcohol and I always thought there were other things to be doing, so I don’t drink.”

“You don’t drink?” My eyes shoot up to my hairline.

“I like to be in control of my actions and I don’t think alcohol would help me with that.”

“I ordered you a margarita. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t care if you drink, I just don’t want to.” He laughs. “Anyway, my dad and I have been able to move forward. It took a lot of time and I only give a fuck because my mom does. Once I found out my plans for after high school, my mom threatened to leave him. He finally decided to get his shit together my senior year of high school. My dad saw my mom had options, realized how shitty he was being, and turned things around. I’d do anything for my mom and my sister—we’ve been through some shit.”

“When did his drinking start affecting your family?”

“He got in with a bad crowd when I was ten. He’d come home wasted after doing jobs for a motorcycle club with a bad reputation. I tried to help my mom any way I could when I was younger—clean houses, walk dogs, mow lawns, whatever.”

“Since you were ten?” My eyes widen in surprise and heartbreak.

Matt has been responsible for a lot of people for years. He took on the burden of being the protector and provider when it should’ve never been that way.

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