Page 30 of Shame Me
At that, he actually smiled. “No. At least I was wrong about that. But…heisa musician. He’s not really famous, but he’s in a band here in Denver—ahouseband for some bar in Five Points.”
“No shit.” When I realized my voice was probably a little louder than it should have been, I lowered it again to ask my question. “So he’s still alive?”
“Apparently.”
“So why did she tell younow?” I imagined she’d thought maybe he was mature enough to handle the truth, but I didn’t quite understand why she’d waitedthislong.
“With us playing bars and stuff all the time, she was afraid we’d run into him—and she didn’t want me finding out that way.”
“But how would you even know?”
To answer that, he picked up his phone, and, after a couple of taps, set it on the table and turned it so I could see the screen. For a split second, I oriented myself. It was a picture of a young couple, probably a little older than Zack and I were now, but it looked like an actual printed picture, not one taken by a phone, like Zack or his mom had snapped a picture of a physical photo. And even though it wasn’t the best quality, I was struck by the man’s face. Although his hair was only chin length, it was dark like Zack’s—and his full lips and chin caused my brain to play tricks on me, because for just one moment, I wondered if thatwasZack.
But, of course, it wasn’t.
After I’d stared at it for far too long, Zack said, “He’s twenty years older now, so I might not recognize him—but he’d probably recognizeme.”
We were quiet for a bit, long enough to hear Cy say, “Son of a bitch” at the game he and Braden were playing. Finally, I said, “Would that be so bad if he recognized you?”
“Yeah. He abandoned me…didn’t give a shit about me. Why would he care now? And why shouldIcare?”
He talked a big game, but I could hear the pain in his voice. It was unmistakable. But I thought about myself…about a timewhen I thought I remembered having a dad in the house. It was before school, before Ava, and long before my mom started working her fingers to the bone. The memories had fuzzy edges, partly because I tried not to conjure them up—but, when I did, I knew my father and mother hadn’t gotten along. I didn’t know why and it didn’t matter anymore. But I sometimes thought, if I had the chance, I’d like to see my father, just once. There were no pictures of him and, the few times I’d asked, my mom wouldn’t talk about him. My grandparents were pretty quiet about the matter too. Now that I was an adult, though, I thought I could make my own decisions—and I thought I might jump at the chance to see my father now.
Then again, I knew my mother and I had been better off without him. What little I remembered wasn’t good.
But there was something else, a question I had that I’d never bring up with Zack.Did his dad even know he existed or had his mom always kept it secret?Zack worshipped his mother and she loved him completely—so I didn’t want to ask that question and potentially drive a wedge between them. I felt like if his father didn’t know about him, then it would only be fair to tell him, to give him a chance to be a real dad.
“I’m not saying you should care—but aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“Fuck no. And I’m trying like hell not to be pissed at my mom for bringing it up in the first place. I hadn’t thought about him in years—and now he’sallI can think about.”
And probably why Zack was drinking vodka like it was water.
I decided to take a chance. Zack and I hadn’t really spoken in over a year, because I still harbored a grudge…but if I could let it go, maybe, just maybe we could learn to be friends again.Realfriends. The way he’d just now chosen to tell me and not our bandmates—especially Braden—said a lot.
It felt like an olive branch.
“Do you think maybe it’s because, deep down, youdowant to see him?”
Frowning, Zack circled his fingers around the glass of vodka but he didn’t pick it up. Instead, he just twirled it by the base with his finger and thumb as if it were a crystal ball ready to show him the future. “Probably…just to satisfy my curiosity. But maybe just watch him play in his shitty little band.”
Oh…Zack’s mom had no idea that she’d sliced her son open and left him gushing blood on the side of the road. Until now, I’d had no idea just how big a wound he’d been tending—or, more accurately, ignoring.
“If you go…do you want us to go with you?”
“No. I need to do it by myself.”
“Okay,” I said—but I didn’t mean it. Never had I been so worried about my friend, and I felt like a total asshole for being cold to him for so long. Maybe Zack just didn’t know how to love me—butIknew how to love him, how to be there for him. And I needed to. Before I could stop myself, I reached out and touched the top of his hand.
Zack turned his and held two of my fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just don’t think Cy and Braden would understand.”
That was fair. Cy hated his dad and, although Braden didn’t talk about them, he had two parents in an intact home. Maybehewas the reason why Zack never said much. So I said, “Well…it could just be me if you wanted.”
“Yeah, but I keep coming back to the one sticking point.”
“And that is?”
Letting go of my fingers, Zack picked up the glass of vodka and stared at it for a moment. When his eyes shifted to mine, he said, “If he wanted me in his life, he would have tracked me down. He’s had twenty years to do that and I’ve never heard a word from him.”
