Page 31 of The Intimacy of Finding You

I couldn’t help it. I snorted. “Papa, I’m not twelve anymore.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean you can’t still have boy trouble. Is that why you’re picking at your fingers and asking me about Grammy?”

“No.” I squeezed my eyes shut before letting out a long, deep breath. “Okay, maybe. Sort of. I am having trouble with a guy, but it isn’t like that. Not anymore, at least.”

There was silence for a moment. Papa hadn’t even sipped on his coffee. He just held it in his hands, narrowing his eyes as he looked at me. It didn’t take long before he gasped and his eyebrows rose. “Shit, it’s Tobias, isn’t it?”

My mouth didn’t even want to open to confirm what he’d said. It was so hard. So damn hard to say. So hard to admit that, yes, Tobi was back, and I had nothing to show for it. He’d barely even talk to me, and when we met, it was always reluctantly.

Huffing through my nose, I turned to him. “How did you figure that out?”

“Your eyes, Cally. You always get this look in your eyes when you talk about him, even if you’re not saying his name outright. Plus, I’m just old and wise. Don’t you know that by now?”

Old and wise. I wished I were wise. When I was in my twenties, I thought I’d have the answers to everything by the time I was thirty. God, how wrong I was. “Yeah, it’s Tobi. He’s back.”

“Back how?”

I thought about how to answer that for a moment. It wasn’t as easy as it should’ve been. “Physically. Physically, he’s back. Mentally and emotionally? I’m not sure where he is. He’s an alcoholic now, Pops. It fucking hurts. It hurts to see him ruin himself like he is and not be able to do anything about it.”

He groaned and grunted as he got up from the recliner, grabbing his cane for support as he made his way to the couch. He sat right beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Tell me all about it, son. Maybe I’ll have some wisdom for you.”

I leaned into his side, laying my head against his shoulder. “I don’t know. He’s homeless. He looks like hell. I never thought I’d see him again, you know? But then I did, and he’s nothing like he used to be.”

“Well, of course not. Did he tell you what he’s been doing for the last decade?”

“No, not really. He said he’s moved around a bit.”

“If he’s drinking like you say he is and he’s in that bad of shape, I’d be inclined to think he’s gone through hell.”

I closed my eyes, thinking back to all the times Papa had held me just like this and sung to me or comforted me during a bad panic attack. “I know he has. He’s just so closed off. It’s like he’s a whole different person, and I don’t recognize the person he is.”

“Sure you do. He’s got the same heart. He’s got the same soul. He’s just lost.”

“Oh, he’s so lost, Papa. So, so lost, and I don’t know how to help him come back.”

“Well, that’s the thing.” He stroked my hair and sighed. “You don’t need to help him come back, son. You just need to be there for when he’s ready to. You can guide him, but you can’t force him. If he’s lost, he’ll find his way eventually, but you have to let him find that way. You can’t make the path for him.”

A tear I didn’t ask for and didn’t want found its way along my eyelashes. I didn’t open my eyes because if I did, it’d freely escape. I didn’t want it to. I wanted to hold it back. Hold it in, so I could pretend like I never let it get to me just how terrified I was. I was terrified that Tobi would never actually come back, and I’d have to go the rest of my life knowing he was out there drinking himself to death.

I squeezed my eyes tighter, keeping it all contained as I breathed in Pops’ signature coffee and cologne smell and thought about all the times he’d sung to me. I imagined he was singing to me now, and I was just a kid, clinging onto his side for dear life. He’d keep me grounded. “I know. We argued about that. He told me I was just trying to make myself feel better because I wasn’t meeting him where he was but trying to change him. I’ve done better, but I can’t help how utterly helpless I feel when it comes to him. I hate seeing him drink like he is. I hate seeing him so sad and lonely when I’m right in front of him like this.”

“Watching your mother destroy herself, your father, and you was the hardest thing I ever did. I tried to get her help countless times. Your Grammy and I were at such a loss with her. Eventually, we realized it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t going to change anything unless your mother wanted to change. We weren’t the problem—her will to get better was.” He rubbed my shoulder. “Alcohol steals. It steals lives. It steals happiness. It steals health. It steals families. But what hurts the most is how it steals someone’s will and determination so easily. It’s a bastard of a thing, Cally. But if Tobi doesn’t want to get help, then you can’t stress yourself out by trying so hard. He’ll come to you when he’s ready. I know that.”

“If. If he’s ever ready.” I repeated what Tobi had told me before.

“I don’t believe there’s an if here. He’ll come back in his own time, and you’ll be there for him when he does. And I’ll be here for you through it all.”

Could I let myself believe that? Could I be that for Tobi? I fucking hoped so. I really, really hoped so.

After a few minutes of silence, Pops cleared his throat and gently started to rock us side to side. “Hush, little baby, don’t say a word.”

My throat got tight.

“Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.”

My shoulders started to shake.

“And if that mockingbird won’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.”