“If you’re sure . . .”
“I am, don’t worry. I won’t speed too much,” I tease, and that makes him smile.
I didn’t actually speed much, knowing he would nag me, and when I pull up outside of Mama’s, his eyes widen. It’s full, even at this time of night, and when I head in, I wave at her behind the counter before sinking into the long bench seat as my father looks around. Music plays softly from the speakers, and the chatter and laughter are louder. The smell of home-cooked food instantly settles my nerves as I watch my father sit delicately, unbuttoning his suit. Not a hair is out of place, unlike me in my oil-stained tank and old leather jacket.
He looks out of place at the sticky, old picnic table, but as he looks around, he smiles. “This is homey.”
“Mama is like a mother to everyone, and her cooking is amazing,” I tell him. Maybe part of me wanted to test him and make him uncomfortable. “I come here with my team and friends a lot. It feels like home.” He watches me, and I realize what I said. Compared to my actual home, which was always cold and perfect, this is far different. “I didn’t mean?—”
“It’s okay.” He nods. “I know how I brought you up, Noah. We always butted heads about it, but it didn’t mean I didn’t love you. I’m glad I get to see this side of you now.”
I nod, and we lapse into an awkward silence. “Uh, want me to order for you?”
“Please,” he says softly, and I nod. I have no idea what game my father is playing. He isn’t actually trying to get to know me, is he? I don’t want to get my hopes up. I tried to have a relationship with my father my entire life before I realized his work would always come first, but even so, a tiny spark of hope blooms whether I want it to or not.
Getting up, I put our order in, and Mama catches my arm when I turn back to our table. “That your father?”
“How did you know?”
“I’ve seen him on TV. Besides, you have his eyes.” She pats my arm. “He’s here, which means he’s trying. Go easy on him.”
I blink, unsure how she knew, but Mama knows everything. “Thanks, Mama.” Heading back to my table, I eye my father, who is busy looking around. I expected judgment or for him to be uncomfortable, but he’s observing everything curiously as I sit down, straddling the bench.
Do I really have his eyes? I peer into them when I sit, and he catches me, frowning. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I scoff and look away. “So, how’s business?” I ask since it’s all he knows how to talk about.
“How about we don’t talk about business tonight? Let’s talk about everything else,” he responds, and that catches me off guard.
“Um, okay, like what?”
“Well, tell me about your garage, your team, and friends.” He shrugs. “Mackie told me a few things, but I’d love to hear more.”
I still can’t believe he and Mackie had a civil conversation, but there’s warmth in his voice when he mentions him. Is my dad sweet on him? Who would have thought?
“Well, Alek and Skylar—” For the next two hours, I talk about my life for the last few years, and he listens, occasionally asking questions. He appears genuinely interested. He eats Mama’s food and asks for seconds, and when we go to leave, he adds a generous tip.
The drive after is filled with more questions. My throat aches from talking so much, but when we pull up outside my parents’ house, reality comes crashing down on me. My dad won’t be like this forever. He won’t care forever.
“I enjoyed tonight. Maybe we could have a weekly meal on your terms if that’s okay? Just you and me. No business.”
I gape in surprise, something I’ve been doing a lot tonight. Nobody changes that much, at least not in my experience. What did Mackie say to him?
“I’d like that,” I reply despite the fact that I wonder if he’ll actually do it, but I would like it. I don’t hate my father. I love him. I was just never his priority, and I knew that, and sometimes that hurt.
“Me too.” He reaches for the handle and freezes. “I know I made a mess of our relationship over the last few years—well, all your life, and I’m sorry, Noah. I was working so hard to provide a stable future for you and your mother, thinking money was all you needed. I worked harder so you never had to want for anything without realizing that you wanted me there too. I built a career and a life for myself, and although I love that life and love that I am more than just a father, I also want to be a father. I have no right after all these years to ask, but if you’d let me, I’d like to be in your life.”
“I was—I am proud of you,” I tell him. “Always have been. I never want you to think I was ashamed of you because I wasn’t. You’ve built an amazing career. I just—” I look away, needing to get it out. “I always felt like there was no room for me in your life. I couldn’t bewho you wanted me to be. I still can’t, and it took me a long time to come to terms with that, and it might mean I lose what little connection I had to you, but I would love for you to be part of my world. It might not be the one you chose for me, but I’m happy. I love what I do, and I love my friends, team, and Mackie, and I hope you can see that.” I glance at him and find him watching me. “And be proud.”
“I’ve always been proud of you.” His hand touches my arm where it rests loosely on the steering wheel. “Most kids would rely on our name and money. Not you. It’s like you had a point to prove. All my friends always said how amazing you are for forging your own path, and how proud I must be since their sons only wanted handouts. I was—amproud of you. I’m sorry I never showed it. I don’t need you to be like me, Noah. I just need you to be happy. Don’t waste most of your time like me, chasing unimportant things. Life moves too quickly, and before you know it, you’ll be old and gray with regrets.”
My heart aches, and I don’t have the ability to tell him I will never be old and gray. I can’t break my father’s heart like that because one day, he will have to bury his child. I just hope it isn’t anytime soon.
“I pushed Mackie away for a long time, thinking I didn’t deserve him. I regret that, but I have no intention of ever making that mistake again. I am who I am, Father, and not because of your name, but because of who you raised me to be—strong, confident, driven. We’ve both made some mistakes, but I’d like to try again,” I tell him. I’d like to know my father. I’d like to have a relationship with him.
“Then let’s try.” He squeezes my arm. “And feel free to invite Mackie. I like that kid. He’ll keep you on your toes.”
That makes me laugh. “Always. Let me get your door?—”
