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“…I dunno, Brandon. It’s just seeing you this time around, hearing how well you’ve done. And with my own business going down the toilet…. Hell! Can ya blame a guy for wondering where he went wrong?” I hear my dad asking him.
“It’s just you and me now, B. So I’ll be honest…I’m fucking jealous as hell you’ve made it, and I’m still stuck out here in the sticks, greasing up old trucks ‘cause folks can’t afford new ones. And after twenty years of that, I’m still living fucking hand to mouth.”
Jesus. I had no idea things were that bad. I definitely need to lift my tutoring game. Be more careful with money.
I’m telling myself all this out of reflex, but after hearing my dad out, Brandon’s equally quick to remind him of some facts.
“I told you, Steve, name the amount or just say the word. I’ll cut you a check right now,” he says, sounding like a man who’s repeating himself.
And I get the strong impression that Brandon and dad talked plenty at the shop earlier, Brandon probably seeing for himself just how well dad’s little business is going.
“I don’t want your charity, Brandon,” my dad groans. “I want…I guess I want the past twenty years back so that I could do it differently. Do it better for May. Y’know?” he says.
I feel a stab of emotion in my chest. For my dad, for everything I know, he’s always done for me.
Putting family first, even if ‘family’ is just him and me. It’s what gets him out of bed every morning.
“I do know,” Brandon says soothingly. “And that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Moving back here isn’t just to hang out and rub your nose in my success. I’m here to help you if you need it, dammit. So stop being so damned pig-headed and tell me how much is gonna get you outta the shit.”
My dad goes quiet, finally mumbling something I can’t quite hear, but if I stay out here much longer, I’m gonna freeze or get caught.
I move to go, not wanting to listen in on what’s obviously something between my dad and Brandon.
I freeze up, grimacing when I make a branch snap under my feet, and I literally have to cover my mouth to stop myself from gasping.
But I hear my dad saying something before I do go that stuns me.
“Brandon, all those years ago. After May’s mom left and I had nothing. We had nothing. Remember who set me up in that little auto shop?” he asks, not expecting Brandon to reply, but it’s enough to see me hang back so I can hear what he’s talking about.
Anything to do with the past is interesting to me because my dad absolutely refuses to ever talk about it.
“It was you, Brandon, all of it, and you know it. If it wasn’t for you and all the hard work you put in, paying off that damned loan, May and I wouldn’t be where we are today. And there’s no way she would’ve gone to college.”
My dad’s voice breaks off, full of emotion suddenly. And I hear Brandon shifting his weight across the room.
“C’mon, Steve. We’ve been through this a million times. That loan was to get both of us started, remember? And we always said whoever paid it back first would never owe the other a nickel. Remember?”
So it looks like my dad has a few skeletons of his own in the closet.
It’s nothing terrible. I just never knew it was Brandon’s doing that set them both up all those years ago.
“I remember,” I hear my dad groan, deciding it’s best if I leave these two to have a private conversation.
But I can’t help wondering just what else I don’t know about Brandon.
About how much he’s helped out in other ways over the years.
As I said, my dad’s a clam when talking about the past.
And although we never keep secrets in our house, I’m a little shocked that tonight’s the first I’ve heard of any of it.
A night of many firsts for me, it seems. But my first time with Brandon is obviously gonna have to wait.
And seeing my chance to make a clear getaway home, I leave them to it, to talk over whatever it is they need to.
And praying like hell already that Brandon doesn’t spill the beans about us.
Not yet.
