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Michael was leaning in, hanging on every word. “But he’s on disability?”
“Yeah, but it’s not much. Nowhere near enough to support them. Mom brings in a little extra money cleaning houses, but it’s not steady work.” My new drink arrived, and I raised it in a mock toast. “Life sucks sometimes, you know?”
He shook his head softly. “Yeah, it does. I don’t even have a dad.”
“Oh damn,” I said. “One-upping me. Well played.”
Michael winced. “Crap. I wasn’t trying to do that…”
“I’m kidding.” I put a hand on his arm to reassure him. It felt like chiseled stone underneath his dress shirt. “Did your dad pass away?”
He finished his beer and raised a finger for another. “I wish. I’ve never even met him. He was a deadbeat. Knocked up my mom and then ran off to Europe or Australia or something. We don’t even know for sure. Mom raised me on her own. Never remarried or even dated anyone else.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine not knowing my father. That sucks in a completely different way than my situation.”
He swung his head in a nod. “Want to know the kicker?”
“Obviously.”
Michael leaned closer. “I’ve never met my dad, but I owe him everything.”
I frowned. “How so?”
Michael stood up straight and gestured at his body. “I’ve got his genes. Ever since I was eight years old, I’ve been the biggest kid in school. They made me take a knee for my second grade class photo because when I stood up, I was taller than the teacher. That led to me joining the football team, making Varsity for three years, and eventually getting a free ride to Virginia, which we never could have afforded on our own. And that degree is how I got my job at the NMCF.” He leaned his elbows on the high table and stared into his new beer. “I’ve never met this guy, and I hate him for the situation he put me and my mom in… but I still owe him everything.”
“That’s selling yourself short,” I replied. “You must have worked hard to make the football team, and to get that scholarship.”
“Sure, I did,” he admitted. “Mom worked extra shifts to send me to the best football camps in Arizona. I knew how expensive they were, so I busted my ass to make sure my mom didn’t spend the money for nothing. But a kid half my size would never be able to play college football, no matter how hard he works or how many football camps he goes to. At the end of the day, my size is my foundation, and that’s all because of dad. It’s a tough thing to reconcile.”
I took a long look at him while he studied his beer. I had opened up about my life, and he had done the same. I never would have expected someone like him to show a softer side like that. Maybe that was shitty of me for assuming that based solely on how big and muscular he was.
Before I could say anything comforting, August came striding up to our table. “Jesus Christ, this looks like a funeral. Who died?”
“Ginny and I were talking about our families.”
“Ugh. Of course you were.” He turned to me. “Do you have a depressing family situation too?”
“Afraid so,” I replied. “Dad’s in a wheelchair.”
August whistled. “Ouch, that’s a good one. I think she’s got you beat, Mikey.”
“It’s not a competition,” he replied.
“Yeah, well, if there was a Sad Backstory Olympics, I think she gets the gold.” August looked around. “Where is everyone?”
“Allison had a thing. Nobody else has shown up yet.”
“Don’t take it personally,” August said to me. “You could be Charlize Theron and we might get two people, three tops. Everyone just wants to go home at the end of the week. I’ll order you two depressing kids some shots to make up for it.”
“I don’t think I want a shot,” I began to say, but he was already walking toward the bar. He returned at the same time our spring rolls were being delivered by the waitress.
“Everyone take a shot,” August said, passing them around with little wedges of lime. “If youreallydon’t want to take one, I’ll totally respect that. I don’t want to pressure you into anything. But before you decline, I want you to know these are shots ofverynice tequila. The kind they usually don’t let white people drink.” He raised his shot. “To Ginny’s first week, and to family dynamics that are totally normal and even a little bit depressing.”
He threw his back, so I did the same with Michael. I winced and started to reach for the lime to bite down on, but then stopped. “Wow. That’sreallysmooth.”
“Only the best for the foundation’s newest grant administrator.”
“How expensive was this?” Michael asked while sniffing the empty shot glass. “You know Theresa isn’t going to let me expense this.”
