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“If we’re going to be friends, we should probably know some stuff about each other.”
“Where I’ve lived doesn’t matter. I don’t like looking back. I look at what’s ahead and focus on that.”
He’s being evasive again, but why? What’s the big deal about telling me where he’s lived? Why wouldn’t he want me to know?
“Were you in prison?” I ask.
He coughs on the wine he was drinking. “Prison? Why would you ask me that?”
“You’re being so secretive about your past that I thought maybe it’s because you were in prison.”
I don’t really think he’s been to prison but I had to say something that might prompt him to tell me more.
“Boston, New York, Dallas, and L.A. That’s where I’ve lived. Happy now?” His tone is harsh and he won’t look at me.
“It was just a question. You don’t have to get angry about it.”
“I wasn’t. I was just stating the facts.”
“You seem mad. Is this just how you are? Sometimes you’re nice and sometimes you’re an ass?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry. I just really don’t like talking about myself.”
“Then maybe we can’t be friends. After what I went through with my dad, I’m not comfortable being around someone who’s secretive. And if you act this way with the people in town, they’ll make up their own stories about you, and believe me, they’re way worse than anything you could come up with. You’re better off telling your own story. Keeping quiet will just make things worse for you.”
“Where I’m from and what I do. That’s all they need to know.”
“And what aboutme? I’m not allowed to know more?”
“Maybe later. Not now.” He sounds irritated so I don’t push him. Maybe he really is just a private person and needs more time to open up.
“So what are you studying?” he asks.
“Human resource management.”
“HR.” He nods. “Tough field. You’ll have to fire people.”
“And hire them. I’m hoping I’ll do more hiring than firing. I want to work at a company that actually wants their employees to succeed and doesn’t just say that they do.”
“Those companies exist?” he asks in a kidding tone.
I smile. “Believe it or not, they do. I just don’t know if they’ll hire me.” I look down at the table. “What’s funny—well, not in a haha way but in an ironic way—is that human resources is all about people. Learning how they think. What they want. What motivates them. I took all these classes on psychology and human behavior and yet I couldn’t even figure out my own father and what he was up to.” I pick my wine glass up and swirl it around. It’s nearly empty but the motion distracts me from the feelings that bubble up whenever I think about my dad. “I should’ve seen the signs. They were all laid out in front of me and yet I didn’t put it together. My mom was too blinded by love to see what he was up to. She needed me to tell her. I should’ve been the one to see through his lies. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“Because you wanted him to be someone else.” Kyle takes my glass from me and sets it down.
“But I knew he wasn’t. In my heart I knew he hadn’t changed but I wouldn’t let myself believe it. If I’d just trusted my instincts, I could’ve stopped him. I could’ve found out what he was doing and kept all those people from losing their money.”
“It was probably too late. A scheme like he had going could take years to develop. He’d probably spent half the money he stole by the time the feds found out what he was up to.”
That’s exactly what investigators think happened. According to what they told my mom and me, my dad started this scam years ago and spent the money as soon as he got it. They said guys like him are impulsive and buy whatever it is they want as soon as they get the money. But then they want something else so they have to keep the scam up to get more money. It becomes an addiction. The more they spend, the more money they want, and they live off the high that comes from stealing from people without getting caught.
“You can’t blame yourself.” I feel Kyle’s hand on my arm and look up at him. “I know, thinking back, it seems like you should’ve seen the signs, but when you’re in the moment, sometimes that’s just not possible. You want the person to be who you want them to be, so you look past any signs that go against that. You see what you want to see and make excuses for whatever doesn’t seem right. Or you may not even notice it.”
He’s almost talking like he’s experienced this himself. Maybe it was with an ex-girlfriend. Maybe she lied to him, or stole from him.
“How do you know all this?” I ask.
“Know what?”
