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She shook her head to cut me off. “I like her. Isn’t that a crazy thing to say? And I like her for you.”
“She didn’t know about you. Don’t . . . don’t fault her.” It was the last conversation I wanted to be having with Kat. She nodded as more understanding passed between us.
“I have no right to ask Jeffers—Cameron, but will you reach out to my father once in a while and let him know how you are?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Kat swallowed and shrugged off my jacket before handing it back to me. “Thank you, Cameron.” I didn’t know what it was for, but I nodded in response. She looked up at me with a forced smile. One that I knew was first nature after years of hiding. “Be happy. You deserve it. And maybe one day I will too.”
“Take care, Kat. Good Luck.”
She made her way down the narrow hill stumbling in her footing and her father was at her side in seconds. He embraced her, and I could see her crumbling in his arms. She’d never let me be her comfort. She never wanted me to see that far inside of her. A part of me was relieved she was finally letting someone else see her. I had to let go of the anger. She was never my puzzle to solve.
I looked back to my mother’s headstone wondering what she would think of me, of how I’ve behaved. Of what I’ve done. Kneeling down, I pressed my fingers to my lips and then to her grave. “I miss you.”
Half an hour later, I was pacing outside the front door. Nothing was working. Nothing helped. I felt hollow and completely alone. I had nothing to lose, I’d already lost everything that mattered.
Exhausted from battling demons, Kat’s and my own, all that was left was the new throb of Abbie’s loss. Even with Kat’s confession, I got no relief. Mixed up in a way I couldn’t navigate, I stared at the front door.
Thunder rang in the distance as droplets of rain began to fall on the porch, pinging off the empty plant stand. Thinking better of it, I took the first few steps away from the door when it opened.
“Cameron?”
I stopped my retreat and turned to see my father in the doorway, his eyes searching mine. “Son?” He took a step forward and put his hand on my shoulder as I faltered.
“Hey Dad,” I croaked out as I crumbled on his doorstep. For the first time in my life, I let him see that I needed him. “How . . . how about now?”
That night I sat at the bar staring through a hockey game. My conversation with my father on replay. I left out the details about Kat, but I was sure he knew. He spared my pride by keeping it to himself as I talked, and he listened. He was, for the first time in his life, careful with his words when it came to me. He didn’t lecture, he didn’t judge, he just listened.
And when all was said and done we were better off for it. It was a start. After he closed the door, I realized that he had the same need to connect as I did.
“Looks like they’re getting their asses kicked.” The voice came from the newly occupied seat next to me.
I mumbled a “yeah,” without a clue to what team he was referring to and motioned for the bartender for my check when I got a text from Max.
Max: Damn it, man. We’re all here. Where are you? Don’t do this again.
“You a fan of hockey?” The guy asked, indifferent to my vibe.
&nb
sp; “Sure,” I said as I pulled out my wallet and turned to address him.
The resemblance was unmistakable.
“Oliver,” I said as my heart drilled out beats.
“Yep,” he said coolly, rolling a toothpick on the side of his mouth. He was wearing a tux and his tie was hanging loose on his collar.
Panic crept in. “Is she okay? Abbie—”
“Thank you,” he said as a beer was set out in front of him, he swallowed half of it before he brought his menacing gaze to mine.
“How did you know I was here?”.
“I asked someone where an asshole would go to get a beer around here.”
“Cute,” I said as he glared at me with clear accusation.
