Page 166 of Into These Eyes
The fuck?
Rage throbs in my ears as I shove him again. “I hate you!”
He steps right back for more. “Why?”
“You left me! Left me like I was a piece of shit, like I meant nothing to you. Like you didn’t know me. You let those fucking cops pick over what was left of my carcass, like I was nothing more than roadkill. My only parent, and you turned your backon me when I needed you most, when I needed you to stand up and tell them all that I could never do what they accused me of. I needed you at that useless lawyer’s office. I needed you in that courtroom. I needed you to explain the context of our fight, not testify like it was obvious I killed her!”
I pause to catch my breath, my eyes on him, watching every emotion flit across his fucking face.
“You’re right,” he agrees, choking on the words. “And it’s the biggest regret of my life. I monumentally fucked up. I know I did, Son. There’s no doubt about it. And I’ve been living with that regret, that heartache, for as long as you’ve been hating me.”
I take in his face, all the sorrow etched there. His cheeks seem hollow, the lines around his eyes and across his forehead deeper, multiplying. I notice now that his dirty blond hair isn’t a lighter colour, but mostly grey, aging like the rest of him.
Although his eyes look the same, there’s deep regret right at the surface. He’s not lying.
“I know it’s an astronomical thing to ask, but it would mean everything to have a relationship with you. Any sort of relationship. I miss you so much, Son.”
Then, to my shock, he hugs me. Hard.
I’m so stunned, I stand frozen, my arms like concrete blocks. “I hate you,” I tell him, but there’s no hiding the lack of conviction behind those words. Because now I’m thinking about Jamie, about the hate she had for me, how it lived in her heart, hurting her.
My father’s arms only tighten further. “I love you, Gavin. Please … please forgive me.”
The last words Jamie’s mother said to her rush at me.Open your heart.
My brain takes a crowbar to the lock I’ve kept on all the positive memories I’d buried. The encouragement and support he gave me in everything I did as a kid and a teenager. Theaffection he showed me that I never saw any other father show my friends. The pride in his eyes when I was offered a spot in three professional soccer teams. The way he treated and looked after my mother when he’d always been in love with someone else. I release everything I’ve kept suppressed so I could hold onto the one time he let me down.
The concrete encasing my arms shatters, and before I know it, I’m wrapping them around him, holding my father while he embraces me the way I needed to be held the night we were torn apart. As I feel the tension leave his body, a quiet sob escapes his throat.
“I need time,” I say, my own throat painfully tight. “But I’ll try. On my terms.”
“Anything you want, Son. Anything.”
After a few heartfelt pats on the back, we release each other. Swiping at his tears, he says, “So much time … wasted because of me. Giving me more … It means everything.”
As we take a seat again, Jamie and Anika stand and wave. At first, I think they’re coming over, but after I raise my hand in return, they saunter off for another walk.
“I’m proud of you, of the man you’ve become,” my father says.
“How can you be proud of someone you don’t know?”
“What I do know, is how Jamie talks about you, how her whole face lights up when she does so. Since she seems like a lovely, bright young lady, I trust her judgement.”
My heart stills in my chest as I look at him. “She was talking about me?”
He chuckles. “Oh, yeah. And it wasn’t just what she was saying, it was thewayshe was saying it.”
For the first time since seeing him again, I grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Looks like you light up the same way she does.”
We chat for another half an hour, keeping the topics light and casual, trying to find a way into reconnecting. The more we talk,the easier it gets, though I’m still not in a place where we can discuss the things that really matter. But I feel that, as we get to know each other again, it’ll happen down the track. After all, we can’t have a meaningful relationship without discussing the hard stuff.
When Jamie and Anika return, I wonder who else my father has in his life now. From the way his eyes water as all three of us put our numbers in his phone, I’m guessing he’s not close with too many people. I suppose I’d be overwhelmed, too. Reconnecting with him has been an emotional roller coaster. I can’t imagine what it must be like to deal with three of us at once.
As we say goodbye, he hugs Jamie and Anika, then turns to me. I extend my hand, and he grabs it, pulling me into a man-hug while he promises to seem me soon.
Once we pile into the car and drive away, I let my head flop against the headrest as a wave of fatigue overcomes me.
