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My body tenses at the familiar voice. Fuck.
I don’t turn around, but I hear his footsteps coming closer. The sound of the leaves crunching underneath his shoes, and then he comes to a halt beside me. “Are you following me?” I question roughly.
“You’re my son,” he says, as if that answers the question.
Harrison Avery, my father, was released from prison six weeks ago. He tracked me down and found out that I had been adopted by Uncle Ben and Aunt Naveah. Since then, he’s been making his displeasure known. He says that they stole me from him, just like they tried to keep my mother and him separate.
“Uncle Ben is not going to be happy about this,” I tell him.
“Yeah, well, he’s always had a problem with me.”
Because you’re an addict and a felon. Because you’re the reason why my mother is dead. Because you destroyed her life.
Because you ruined mine and Naomi’s life too.
Except I don’t tell him any of this. While it’s been a long time since I’ve last seen my father, I still remember he has a dangerous temper. Maybe he’s changed — but I can’t trust him.
I can’t allow myself to trust anyone, really.
The less attached I am to people, the less disappointed I will be when they leave. Because they will leave.
Everyone leaves at some point.
Trusting someone means making myself vulnerable. It gives them power to break me. No, I can’t possibly allow that.
My father claps me on the shoulder. “I want my family back, son.” I give him a side-eye, before looking back at the restaurant. Naomi is blowing out the candles on her pink cake, with a huge smile on her face.
“You and Naomi,” he continues, “we can be a family again. We’ll go far away from here, where we can live together. We share the same blood, Grayson. We are the same people. They will never understand us. But I understand you. I see you and Naomi as my family.”
Maybe…just maybe if he had said those words to me a year ago, I would have accepted them as the truth. A year ago, I was lost and desperate, unsure of what I was searching for. So, if Harrison Avery had found me then and spoken those words — I would have gone with him.
But not now, not anymore.
“Naomi is happy where she’s at, with her new family. People that love her and chose her. You can’t take that away from her.”
My father shakes his head. “You don’t understand. I’m not taking anything away from her. Can’t you see? They have taken from us. They have separated us. Look at you. You’re standing here because you can’t bring yourself to go and see your sister. A sister that you love dearly. But we can be reunited again. A family, Grayson. Our family.”
Shrugging his hand off my shoulder, I turn to face him. My father is slightly shorter than me, and where I’m bulky, he’s lean. His pale skin is sunburned, and I see some freckles that neither Naomi nor I inherited. His blondish hair is messy, and his clothing is disheveled. I think there was a time when he would have been considered handsome, but now he looks ten years older than he actually is. He has aged, and I can see the aftereffects of the drugs on his body and face.
My mother used to say that I was the perfect combination of her and my father. But I don’t see it anymore.
Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly. “I don’t know what kind of relationship you want from Naomi and me. You’ve never been much of a father and I don’t know what kind of life you can possibly give us.” I step forward, moving into his personal space. My father takes half a step back, frowning. His blue eyes darken in a way that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. He knows I’m bigger than him, stronger too.
I’m no longer the small child he left behind.
My nose wrinkles when I catch the heavy smell of marijuana and alcohol coming from him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still partaking in his shady, illegal business of selling cocaine and shit.
I don’t want this man anywhere near my sister. “But listen to me, you stay away from Naomi. You’ve barely even been in her life. She doesn’t know you. Don’t lie and say you care, because if you had cared, you wouldn’t have left us to fend for ourselves. Now you’re back, years later, and you want me to believe that you have our best interests at heart?”
He swallows and then nods slowly. “I understand why you won’t believe me. I haven’t been the best parental figure.”
I run my fingers through my raven-black hair. It’s grown a little longer than the last time I took a hair trimmer to it. I make a mental note to cut my hair when I get home. Anyway, I like to keep it short, buzz cut to the scalp — marine-style.
“I understand your concerns about Naomi. You are right; I won’t disrupt her life.” He shoves his hand into the pocket of his navy-blue jeans. “But what about you? You’re older and you remember me. Can we at least have a relationship?”
He pulls something out of his pocket, his fist closed. My father stretches his arm toward me, as if to hand me whatever he’s holding. Feeling skeptical at first, I don’t take the bait. My fists clench at my sides, and I keep my arms down. Refusing to take anything from him.
He opens his fist, showing me a light-colored, familiar rock. It’s small enough to hold in the palm of his hand. “Do you remember this?” he asks, his voice gruff. “You gave this to me; you said it was a pretty rock. I kept it, all these years.”
