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“Really? More important than the welfare of your wife and your daughter?”
I was too angry to notice the guilt on my father’s face. It wasn’t hard to see when he got defensive, however.
“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it. Don’t make it sound like I’m here on vacation. I’ve been working my ass off to keep a roof over your head and provide for my family.”
“Bullshit. We both know why you’re here and it has nothing to do with us and everything to do with the fact that you’re too chickenshit to face your responsibilities as a man.”
“How dare you talk to me like that? I’m your father, you ungrateful leech!”
“I will talk to you anyway I like. You’re no father to me. You abandoned us, you son of a bitch!” The shocked look on his face was priceless.
That is what it came down to. Growing up, my father was always busy, whether it be football or his career on television.
The only time we saw him was during my matches because, God forbid, people viewed him as a deadbeat dad to a football-playing son.
It took me a minute to understand that the love of my father’s life wasn’t us, but his career. Yes, he provided a roof for us and paid for everything, but if he had to pick one over the other, guess which one it would be?
Things got worse when he moved to Sacramento to become a commentator for the NFL.
We couldn’t just drop everything to move there like we did when we were younger. So, my parents decided to commute from Sacramento to San Diego. As time went on, we saw him less and less.
I hadn’t cared either way. My mother was always there for us to make up for his absence. My sister, however, was the one who suffered the most.
That he bailed the one time my mom couldn’t take care of us made it that much harder to accept his selfish behavior.
“Well, I got news for you, Dad. It’s not my role to clean up after your mess. Not anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m leaving.”
“What? Now? After all the fuss you just made to get my attention?”
“No, I’m leaving home. They accepted me at the Naval Special Warfare Preparatory School in Great Lakes, Illinois. I’m going to become a Navy SEAL.”
“Over my dead body, will that happen. You’re going to Notre-Dame. I had to pull some serious strings to get you that scholarship.”
“No, I won’t. You can’t make me do shit.”
“Oh, yes, I can. My roof, my rules. And don’t count on that trust fund either. I can easily take away what I gave you.”
“Can you?”
“Yes, dear boy.”
“It’s going to be hard to do when I’ve already emptied the account.”
“What? How?” he stammered.
“I went to the bank.”
“Why wouldn’t they call me?”
“You seem to forget I’m eighteen. I didn’t need your authorization to access the money.”
“But five million dollars? What the hell could you have done with five million dollars?”
Oh, let me count the ways.
