Page 10 of Good Intentions, Vol. 2

“Just don’t, Heather,” she turns around and swipes underneath her right eye.

“But…”

“Leave it,” she says and starts walking out of the room. “Besides, you’re in no position to say anything.” Her words hit their mark. I know she’s lashing out of fear, not because she judges me. Still, the sting of them makes me flinch.

“I’ll just say this one thing and then I won’t but in, I’ll just support any decision you make,” I rush out to say, stopping her. “Don’t go down that path again, honey. Last time, it almost destroyed you. You gave that man three years and he wasn’t even here. And now when you have Max he decides to come back?” As I talk my voice rises until I’m almost shouting. I don’t care, the man left her alone after promising her the world. And she stayed behind waiting, hoping, dreaming. But it never came true. “Well, fuck that. Fuck him! Max is a good man. He’s good for you. Fuck, Erin, I can see how he looks at you, he’s half a second from coming down to his knees and kissing the ground you walk on every time you come near him. Do not give up what you found with Max just so you could give in and find the answers to the motherfucking question that doesn’t need to be ever resolved. Live your life. I’m begging you, babe, just live your life without any regrets from the past, because Graham sure as fuck doesn’t deserve your love. But Max does. And you know he does.”

I have so much more I want to say to her, so much more of the practiced speech, but she doesn’t give me the chance.

Her shoulders sagging, her head bowed, she doesn’t look at me, only whispers, “I’ll be okay, hon. You just go and see your Dad.” And with that she leaves.

*~*~*

“I fucked up, Daddy,” the words burst out of me. “I’m scared I’m becoming just like her.” Erin was right, what I found when I came to see my Dad is not what I was expecting. Gone is the shell of a man I once knew. Instead, he’s gained some weight, his face isn’t blotched with red stains anymore and his eyes are no longer glassy. Sure, there are new lines around his eyes and on his forehead, but that’s from living his life, not from drinking himself to death.

The smile he gave me and the fierce hug he enveloped me in was like going back in time when all was right in my world.

Unfortunately, the memories of my mother’s destruction came right on its heels and the shame started to consume me.

“No, you’re not.”

“How can you be so sure? You don’t even know what I did, what I’m doing.”

“And I don’t need or want to know. But one thing is sure. If you did become like her, you wouldn’t be so torn by guilt, you would only think about yourself and what you want, damn the consequences.”

“But…”

“No buts, baby girl. No buts.”