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These are the small moments I don’t want to miss, the seemingly unimportant ones that make up the bulk of his life.
“I’m not looking for someone to parent my child 24/7,” I tell my father, irritation evident in my voice. “I thought the point was to have someone around so I can have a job.”
“And to get some space.”
“I don’t need even more space from my son,” I tell him, lifting my glass to my mouth, frustrated by the implication.
My father lets out a groan. “Would you listen to the subtext here, Cap? I’m trying to tell you that you need some space to get your dick sucked.”
I choke on the scotch, mortification flooding just about every inch of my body, from my ankles to my hips to my ears.
“Well don’t choke and die just because I’m implying you need to get laid,” he tells me.
“That was not an implication. That was…” I shake my head and cough one more time. “That was something I never want to hear come out of your mouth again.”
“Fine, I won’t use those words,” he tells me. “But I still think it’s true. I’m not trying to say I understand how things were between the two of you before she died, but my guess is that you have been through a drought.”
I breathe out deeply and cover my face with my hands, not wanting to have this conversation.
“You need to stop sitting around the house thinking about how this one woman betrayed you and get out there. Remember what it’s like to be a man desired by women. Because trust me, the Palmer genes are never a disappointment to the ladies.”
My dad quiets after he’s seemingly made his final point, his eyes turning to watch Teddy as he tries to twist himself in the swing.
As much as I appreciate my father, his usual words of wisdom, and how much he loves me, the last thing I ever intend to talk to him about is my sex life, either with Melody or after her.
When I was with Melody…well, the truth is that my wife probably wasn’t satisfied by our sex life and sought physical pleasure elsewhere, a realization I’ve been coming to over the past few months while reflecting on her many affairs.
And after her? Hell, I’m not ready to think about that yet. There’s a part of me that wants to never be with a woman again, that believes nothing would be worth the risk of another opportunity to get hurt, be betrayed. And yet there’s another part of me that thinks I should go out and have sex with as many women as I can to get back at Melody for that betrayal.
Do I know that’s trash? Absolutely.
Do I still feel that way? You betcha.
She slept around through our entire marriage while I was a faithful saint. Even through the long dry spells when I thought things weren’t clicking between us. In reality, she was just getting dicked by someone else while I was jerking off in the shower.
Now it should be my turn. My turn to be a slut, to fuck around and have fun, to find somewhere warm and wet and willing.
And there is absolutely no fucking way I’m sharing that thought with my father.
“She starts Monday?”
I nod.
“I don’t even know how I’m going to handle her being here,” I say, vocalizing my concern out loud for the first time. “All I’ve done for the past three years is take care of Teddy all day every day.”
“You’ll have plenty to do,” he says, misunderstanding me. “Just lay out a plan. Clean out your office. Work on your resume. You’ll figure it out.”
I don’t take the time to correct him or to tell him I’ve already cleaned up my resume. The point he’s missing just isn’t something he can really understand. I don’t think my father would ever be able to appreciate how hard it will be for me to keep myself sequestered away from my kid while someone else gives him the love and affection I’m so used to providing.
He might have worked from the house when I was growing up, but he never seemed to have any issues avoiding me or my two younger sisters because he never saw our care and the daily tasks of raising us as his responsibility.
But I do see those things as mine, so figuring out how to balance it all, how to keep a rein on my role as a father while letting go of the need to be immediately available to my son all the time…it’s not going to be an easy task.
Eventually, I’ll leave the house and head to the campus to teach, so that should alleviate some of the difficulty. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. But the transition period, these next two weeks while I’m trying to sort out my lesson plans and Emily and Teddy are running around in the yard and moving through the house…I don’t think it’s going to be easy.
I shake my head and down the last of my scotch, wishing I could change the circumstances.
“You’ll figure it out, Cap,” my father tells me, reaching out and resting his strong, wrinkly hand on my shoulder. “I know you will.”
