AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why would I ask you for money?” He snorts at that. “You send money home from time to time already. To your mom. Your sisters. I’m not a total idiot. I know where it comes from.”
Oh. I didn’t think he knew about that. I guess the cat-beans have spilled out of the bag.
“And I wouldn’t dream of apologizing for what I said to you,” he goes on—still speaking to me in a frustratingly polite tone of voice. “As I stand by it. You’re better than this life, Isaac. What’s wrong with my saying that? What’s wrong with a father dreaming bigger for his son?”
“You don’t know what kind of life I lead.”
“I think I sure do. One where you strip your clothes off on a stage. When’s the last time you nursed a bird back to health? Where’s that boy I used to know who would find a wounded bird in the backyard and nurse it back to health? I still see the light in your eyes when you let it back into nature. It’s like you found God or something, the way your eyes would light up.”
Even when he scolds me, he sounds kind. My father has never once raised his voice, even when he says horrible things.
Also, he doesn’t know about the cam site stuff.
It’s for the best. And honestly, he’d probably see it as the lesser of two evils, since it’s basically at-home stripping and one hundred percent safer.
There’s also no use in arguing with him the ethics of what I do for a living. I could assert that I save lives just as well by doing what I do—mending wounded, lonely hearts with my dancing. I do a very important duty of making men and women all over the world feel less alone, even if it’s temporary and … paid for the way you pay for a pizza.
He wouldn’t hear a word of it. “Fine,” I sigh. “So you won’t ever apologize or take responsibility for anything. What’s new? So why the hell are you here? I seem to recall the specific words of our last conversation … What were they, again? … ‘I don’t want you or your lifestyle anywhere near your sisters. You’re making your mother cry with your life choices, and you’re the deepest disappointment a father could know.’ Did I get that right? Or am I paraphrasing?”
He peers down at his feet, for a moment letting a glint of hurt cross his eyes. He scuffs his foot against the side of the building like a bored, restless teenager. “Alright,” he finally murmurs. “I do think that’s paraphrased and exaggerated quite a bit. But if that’s how you perceived my parting words to you, then I can’t change that. But it don’t mean—”
“Well, since it’s no longer a secret,” I go on, “I have clearly disobeyed your wishes over the years, sending regular money to my sisters and to Mom. So is that why you’re here? To scold me?”
“The money is what brings me here tonight to you, Isaac. Though you … didn’t bother to ask.” He spreads his hands. “Long story short: you don’t have to send money home anymore.”
I lift an eyebrow. That statement seems to lack an uncomfortable amount of context. “What?”
“I’m off disability. I’ve got myself a job. A well-paying job, too, back down at the factory, but in the offices now. It’s boring, but it’s a good job.”
I squint at him, not following.
“In other words …” He shrugs. “You’re right. Your money is the reason I’m here … partially. See, you don’t need to send your sisters or mother cash anymore. I’m able to take care of them myself.”
I was wrong.
There is a new low my father could stoop to.
And in such a polite voice, too. “You came all this way just to tell me that to my face? Tell me I’m not needed anymore?”
He lets out one curt, breathy chuckle. “Your … occasional ‘gift’ was never needed, Isaac. Your sisters have wanted for nothing. Your mom and I keep us all fed well-enough without your money.”
“Ah, I get it.” I smile, throwing just as much of his fake politeness right back at him. “This is more of a string-clipping conversation, huh? ‘Thanks, son, keep your sweaty stripper dollars, we’re good now, I decided to stop taking money from the government and sucked it up for a desk job, now I can properly disown you.’ You could have saved your breath and time by just sending a text. It would’ve been just as effective.” I go up to the back door and give it a couple bangs of my fist, hoping Mack or Larry are nearby to let me in.
“Isaac, that isn’t at all what this is. Don’t twist my words around. C’mon, son, have the decency to turn around and look at me. I came here to—”
