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He remembered his father pulling him aside and telling him what happened.
Most men might not want to admit what happened, but not his father. He’d sworn to always be honest and upfront.
No secrets between them. They were in it together.
Maybe it was watching the man he looked up to so much in his life feeling as if he failed his son, for failing his wife and not being there to protect her, was what made him want to always do the right thing.
“Yeah,” he said. “He sat me down and told me everything. The only other time I’ve seen my father cry was at the hospital when he found out my mother died and then at the funeral.”
“Just because your father held it all in doesn’t mean you have to.”
“I know. Mia is walking on eggshells around me. I don’t like that.”
“Tell her that,” Brian said. “Don’t say it to me.”
“I tell her all the time,” he argued. He told Brian about the sardines too.
“Dude, that’s gross. And leave it to you to make a joke about it.”
“I just wanted her to know that it’s fine.”
“That’s the problem though. You joke about it and aren’t serious and she doesn’t believe it.”
“I told her it’s just the time of year, not the holiday itself.”
“Prove it to her then,” Brian said. “The anniversary of your parents’ deaths has passed.”
“Yeah,” he said. “And she never brought it up.”
“Because you are closed off about it,” Brian said. “You spent it with your grandfather, didn’t you?”
“Both nights, yes.”
He’d gone to his grandfather’s house both times. They’d had a shot of scotch in honor of his father. Tequila for his mother.
His mother wasn’t one to drink, but he’d never forget a story his father told him about his mother when they first met.
“Share it with Mia.”
“And sound like a wuss?” he asked.
“That’s your problem. Don’t you know that women like it when men show their soft sides?”
He laughed at the way Brian said that. “I’ll think about it.”
Brian changed the subject and then they went about their days.
He sent a text to Mia to see if she could come to dinner tonight. Maybe stay the night.
It took an hour for her to reply. He figured she was busy, but she said she’d be over after work. No word on if she was staying the night or not.
When five thirty rolled around, he heard the garage door open. He’d given her the remote for it. Why not?
“Hi,” she said. “I smell dinner.”
“Spaghetti and meatballs,” he said.
Her jaw dropped when she walked into the kitchen. “You’re cooking it?”
