Page 107 of Beg Me

“I know, bud. I’m so sad that you’re going through losing someone again. As you said to Markie, it sucks.”

“The nurses came in needing to do a few things, so they asked me if I’d step out,” he says. “I was ready for a break anyway. It’s a lot in there.”

“You know that you don’t have to sit in there. You can tap out at any point. Just blame it on me, if you need a scapegoat.”

He sighs, as if he’s been holding that lungful of air all night. “At least I got to tell Papa that I love him, right? That matters.”

“That matters.” I pat his leg. “But, even if you didn’t make it here to tell him, you know that he knew that.”

“You think?”

“Well, let me ask you this,” I say. “Do you know that Papa Ernie loves you?”

He nods. “Yeah. He told me every time I talked to him.”

“Exactly. So, don’t you think he knows that you love him, too? He’s probably smarter than you. I mean, I’ve seen videos of you on Brandon’s skateboard.”

I bump his shoulder with mine, earning a lazy smile in return.

The exhaustion that the last nine or so hours has taken on him is written on his face. It tears at my heart as he falls back into his seat. He yawns, leaning his head on me. I contemplate taking him to a hotel but would like to talk to Deidre first.

“Have you talked to Markie?” Gus asks, his voice quiet.

I shake my head. “No, but it’s the middle of the night, my guy, and I don’t want to wake her up.”

“But she didn’t call you while I was asleep in the car?”

“She had stuff to do. I’ll talk to her later this morning.”

“What is she doing about the tournament?” he asks. “That was really important to her.”

Just twist the knife in my heart a little more, why don’t you?

I sigh. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what she’ll do.”

He sits up, his little shoulders slumped forward. “You should be there with her.”

“Nah, I should be here with you.”

He chuckles sleepily. “Dad, I have put a lot of work into your relationship. Please don’t screw it up.”

I laugh, catching the sound before it gets too loud.

“What time’s your first game meant to be?” he asks.

“Two thirty, I think.”

“If you leave now, could you make it?”

“Gus …” I groan, moving around in my seat again. “I’m here with you. Let’s get through this and then worry about the rest, okay?”

He turns, pulling one leg up so he’s facing me. His mouth twists and he looks at me like the roles are reversed—like he’s the adult and I’m the child.

If I wasn’t so tired, I’d find it amusing. If we were home, I’d tell him that he better tread carefully because I know that little smirk. But neither are true.

“You’re a good dad,” he says. “I appreciate you for bringing me here tonight, but I’m here with Mom. You should be with Markie.”

I hang my head again.