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"No, Dad, you raised me to be hardworking, self-sufficient, and to always wear a condom. ‘Cause the worst fucking thing I could’ve done with my life was get some chick pregnant.”
"I didn't warn you to be careful because I wanted to make you feel bad. I said it because I didn't want you to—"
"Make the same mistakes you did. Yeah, I got it."
He sighs. “I wanted you to have choices. I wanted to give you the chance to become part of a tradition your grandparents built. But you wanted to run wild, get drunk, shirk your responsibilities...”
I can hear the words he’s holding back, clear as ice.Just like your mother.
“I didn’t ask for those responsibilities,” I tell him. “You put them on me.”
“Because I wanted you to take pride in something. To see the value in carrying on a tradition.”
“I guess I was just too busy trying not to end up like you.”
He scoffs and then grimaces. I’ve obviously hit a nerve.
For a second, I regret saying the words. Then I think to myself,Fuck it, he deserves to hear this.My dad thinks he can follow me out here and reprimand me like I’m sixteen, without having to take a look in the mirror.
“You knew your life would’ve been better if you hadn’t gotten Mom pregnant,” I tell him. “And you made damn sure I knew it, too.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I never said—”
“You said you wanted me to have choices. But I know you didn’t choose to work here. Youhadto work here, because suddenly you had a kid to raise, and this was the most convenient job while you were still in school.”
I don a mask of resentment in an effort to hide the pain that’s threatening to seep out the edges of my eyelids. This argument has been a long time coming, but I guess a part of me always hoped I could avoid it by staying away.
“Why do you think I moved out as soon as I was old enough?” I ask. “Because I was tired of being the reason you stopped living. But apparently, my leaving didn’t change anything, because you’re still here doing the same shit, over and over.”
“Because you weren’t the reason I stuck around.”
I shake my head. “You stuck around because you’re resigned to this place. And the difference between you and me, Dad, is that I know when to pull out. You can think I’m an asshole, and you wouldn’t be wrong, but at least I never let myself get backed into a wall.”
“You didn’t wear a condom last night,” Noelle says. I don’t know when she came out onto the deck, shivering in just her boots, socks and sweater. How much of our argument has she heard? “Guess it’s a good thing I’m on the pill.”
I slip my coat off. “Jesus, what are you doing out here dressed like that?” I try to wrap my coat around her. “It’s fucking freezing.”
She steps out of my reach. “I’m f-fine.”
“No, you’re not. Your teeth are chattering.” I shadow her around the deck until she finally stops and lets me drape my coat over her shoulders.
“How ironic that you’ve literally backed me against a wall,” she mumbles.
I groan, exasperated. “Please go inside and put on some fucking pants.”
Noelle looks to my dad, who seems to have calmed down. He nods.
“We’ll be in in a minute.” He waits until she’s back inside the house before he says, “The difference between you and me, is that I know how to hold onto a good thing when I find it.” He points to the door Noelle just stepped through. “I look at her, and I see the best thing that’s happened to this family in a long time. Maybe you can’t see it, or you’re too damn stubborn to admit you see it. Whatever your excuses, you have no right to put this all on her.”
“I’m not blaming her—”
“Acting like she’s crazy to expect more from you than the bare fucking minimum you’re willing to giveisblaming her.” He jabs my chest. “You brought her here. You started this.”
He turns toward the sliding-glass door, then pauses.
“You want to know the real difference between you and me, son? I don’t hold other people responsible for the pain I cause them. So if your life’s mission has really been to turn out nothing like your old man, congratu-fucking-lations. Mission accomplished.”
Chapter Ten
