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Dylan nodded. The two of us emerged from his bedroom holding hands. His parents were waiting for him with worried expressions on their faces.
“Dylan,” his mother started, but he interrupted her.
“I want to apologize for my behavior earlier,” he said.
I could tell that this was hard for him, but just the fact that he listened to what I had to say meant a lot to me. Even his parents looked shocked at his apology. His father was the first to recover.
“Does that mean you’re finally going to talk to me?” he asked.
Dylan looked at me, and I gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.
“I guess I can try,” he said. “Our relationship hasn’t always been… the best.”
“I know, son,” there was a tinge of regret in his father’s tone. “I’ve come to realize that over the years, but I haven’t figured out how to address it.”
“Maybe the two of you can talk it out?” I suggested, feeling like the neutral party in this situation. “I’m sure that some things can be resolved by talking.”
“Dylan,” his father stressed, “I know I have my vices. But it’s not like I don’t love you.”
“He hasn’t had a drink since last weekend,” his mother jumped in the conversation, her tone was urgent. “I think he realized how badly he upset you.”
“I have an addiction, Dylan,” his father continued. “It’s not easy for me to kick the habit just like that. But for you, I’ve been trying.”
Dylan looked up at his father, his expression was a mixture of disbelief and pride. “Have you… Have you been trying to quit?”
“I don’t think I have too much time left in this world,” his father lamented. “If my love for the bottle keeps me away from my only son, then I don’t want it anymore.”
“Dad, all I ever wanted from you was for you to try and get better,” Dylan said. “If you’re willing to get help, then I will put you in the best program in the country. You just need to tell me.”
“Will that get my son back?” he asked with tears pooling in his eyes.
Dylan went and hugged his father. The two men had years of bad blood between them and seeing them come together was an emotional moment, even for me.
“If you promise you’ll try and stay clean, I’ll promise to be by your side,” Dylan assured.
From that moment on, the two of them got along just fine. I watched from the sidelines as they talked for hours about things they hadn’t spoken about in years.
“You know, it was my deepest wish that they would reconcile before it was too late,” his mother came up behind me that evening as we had just finished having tea. Dylan and his dad were now watching a football game together. “But seeing Dylan be so adamant, I was beginning to give up altogether.”
“There’s always hope for things to get better,” I replied. “I could see that Dylan still cared about him. He was just too hurt to show it.”
“My son has always been adamant about doing things his own way,” she continued. “You must be really special if you got him to change his mind.”
“I just talked to him,” I blushed. But I felt happy that I had played some part in this reunion.
The last day of their stay went by smoothly. It looked like Dylan and his dad were finally on good terms. It was heartening to see it. Last night, Dylan and I had still shared a room. He had made a habit of holding me in his arms when he slept each night.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked him when I noticed him still stirring in bed even though it was late.
“Today’s just been crazy,” he admitted, and then turned his face toward me. He looked tired but I could see that he was happy.
“It must be a good feeling to finally hash things out with your dad,” I said softly.
“The last time I talked to him properly was when I was a teenager,” he replied. “So much time has passed since then, that I now realize I missed out on so much of his life, just like he did with mine.”
“It’s never too late to make things better,” I said. “That’s what I always say.”
I felt him observing me for a long moment. “How do you do it?”
