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I gulp.
With a step toward me, Dad grabs my arm softly. “Orlie, what’s going on? You can tell me.”
I take a shaky inhale. My face tightens. I’m trying to hold it all in, just as I’ve been doing for the past month. And that’s evidently way too long at this point. I’ve never broken. I’m not used to breaking. It’s been years…
But now here I am. “I’ve done something terrible, Dad.”
“Whoa, let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“No, I have. I…” I haven’t told anyone about what happened. Not at the cabin. Not in Kira’s office.
And it’s my dad. He knows how to bring all the emotions out of me.
“Is this about Kira?”
My eyes widen. “How did you…”
“You’re my son, Orlie. It’s obvious something’s been up with you and…well, I just pick up on things.”
Turns out I’m not as sneaky as I thought.
“Now.” Dad links his arm around my neck. “Spill.”
So, I do. We each pop a squat on a bench and lean in close so that no one can overhear me as I tell him…well, everything. Within reason, of course. This is my father after all.
He listens without judgment, a few mm’s and ah’s here and there, and when we get to the part I’ve been dreading, about how I implied Kira had been sleeping around on me, Dad throws his hands in front of his face as if witnessing a car crash.
“You didn’t.”
“I did! Because I had gotten a vasectomy!”
“But it’s Kira Solace. She’dnever!On anyone. And certainly not you.”
“How would I know that?”
Dad rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t. Because you’re a dope in love and you can’t even see your nose for your face.” He taps the tip of my nose and I suddenly feel five again.
It’s a nice feeling. I’ll always be my dad’s kid, even when I’m telling him the embarrassing and somewhat unsavory details of my life.
“Okay, so that’s why she hasn’t been into the office for the past –”
“Don’t remind me,” I grumble. “But, turns out…my vasectomy didn’t take. It’s rare, but it happens. So. Yeah. It’s mine.”
A smile appears on my dad’s face and, out of nowhere, he thwacks me on the arm.
“Hey! What was that for?”
“I’m just happy for you.”
I rub the spot he hit. It doesn’t hurt. I’m just holding onto that supportive touch. It’s nice for someone to be happy about this situation when all it has caused in me is dread.
“Don’t be happy for me. I fucked everything up.”
“No, you didn’t. Not yet.”
“I don’t know, Dad. She hasn’t –”
“Stop waiting for her to come to you and you go to her! Are you crazy? Haven’t you ever seen a romcom in your life, son?”
