Page 34 of Shame Me
“Yeah, but how long?”
“Coming up on six years.”
Giving him a short nod, I took a sip of my water. “Sometimes, it feels like I’ve known you my whole life.”
“What are you getting at, Dani?”
“My point is that I know you better than you think I do. Something’s bothering you—and I thought it might feel good to get it off your chest.” But, of course, once I said that, I wondered howIwould fare at hearing whatever it was. Like…if he’d gotten a girl pregnant. That was something I didn’t want to know—and something like that would absolutely put Zack in this sort of foul mood, because it would add a huge burden onto everything we were trying to accomplish.
When he let out a long sigh, I figured he was going to get up and tell me again that it was none of my business. But what he said instead shocked me. “I’ve been asking around, trying to find my dad. I know his name and I managed to figure out where he played—and I’ve been going there every night hoping to see him play with his band. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually talk to him or not.”
He grew silent again, staring at the swallow of vodka left in his glass. Based on what he already said, I imagined that he actuallyhadtalked to his father and the conversation hadn’t gone well—but I wouldn’t be able to pull it out of Zack unless he was ready. He was obviously still working through the emotions.
Instead of speaking, I reached across the table and put my hand on his. Would he pull away like I expected him to and, evenif he did, would he at least get the message that I cared? Despite how Zack had trashed my heart more than once, he was still my best friend, and that part of me hurt for him.
“So after an entire week, their band never showed. It had been hard enough getting into the bar and the only reason they let me is because they know about our band—and they didn’t serve me drinks. They just thought I was there for the show. My dad’s band is their house band, but they always had an opener—so it’s possible we could have played for them at some point.”
“So what happened?”
“I finally asked the bartender why the house band wasn’t playing. He said, ‘You haven’t heard?’ When I told him I hadn’t, he said the lead guitarist died last week and they weren’t sure if or when they’d play again.”
“And the lead guitarist—”
“Was my dad.”
Oh, shit.For a brief moment, I was pissed at Zack’s mom. She could have told him about his dad at any point throughout his life but she had to tell him now—now—and even though Zack hadn’t jumped on the chance to see his dad, he hadn’t exactly dragged his feet, either. When he finally decided, it was just a few days late.
And, regardless of what my friend thought, I knew him—and I knew this was killing him. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. What choice do I have?”
“Well—”
“We have our whole lives ahead of us, Dani. I’ll be fine. Besides…I don’t know if I would have had anything nice to say to my dad anyway. It’s probably better this way.”
Then why the hell was he drinking vodka by himself in the middle of the night?
“Can I do anything?”
A wistful smile turned up the corners of his lips. “Just keep being you.”
“I don’t know if—”
“It’s more than enough.” Picking up the glass, he slammed what little liquid was left in it before picking up the almost-empty bottle and pouring in the rest. “His funeral’s on Thursday.”
“Are you going?”
“I’d have to take off work. I don’t think—”
“Your boss would give you that time. I know she would. She might be a bitch, but she’s not heartless.” I didn’t know any of that for a fact, but based on what Zack had said about her in the past, I thought it was a good guess. “If you want some support, I’ll go with you.”
“No, I’m not going. I never knew the guy. I mean, I guessthanks for the genes, but I don’t know anything about him. Did he have other kids? Was he a loser? Was he fun to be around? Was he a good musician? Would he have wanted his guitar back? He probably would have told me to fuck off. We weren’t a part of each other’s lives for twenty years—and anything else we might have to say is just a bunch ofwhat ifs.” Zack’s voice had grown loud enough that I feared he might wake up our roommates. Had he had so much to drink that he hadn’t noticed how his voice had grown in volume?
So, when I spoke, my voice was even softer than before, as if I could balance it out. “Okay. But if you change your mind—”
“I won’t.” His voice was harsh again and he swallowed half of the glass’ contents. Then he looked at me, his eyes softened. “Sorry. I don’t know why it’s pissed me off so much—but…thank you.”
“For what?”
