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“Bud Light please.”
Nathan has a piece of paper in his hand, staring at it, while sipping on his whiskey. He nods at me, and continues. Why did he ask me to come here if he isn’t going to talk to me? This is a waste of time.
“What is that? You okay?”
His demeanor is different. A woman comes up to him, leaning up against the bar between him and I. He doesn’t even look her way. Even when she asks him to buy her a drink. She scoffs and takes off to find someone else.
“Seriously, you are scaring me. Since when do you turn down buying a lady a drink?” He doesn’t respond, so I snatch the paper out of his hand.
“I think we should talk,” he says, his eyes peering into mine.
The paper is a letter from none other than my father. Why the hell is he reaching out to Nathan? How the hell does he even know he exists?
“How did my father get your address? Why would you even open a letter from someone you don’t fucking know?” My fist slams down on the bar.
A couple two stools down glare at me.
“I need you to tell me what is going on right fucking now.”
His face turns white. “I’ve never told you some things, Theo. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out, but I have no choice.”
My lips pinch together and I scratch the back of my neck. He’s just making this harder. What is he hiding from me? Does he know my father? How? My posture stiffens.
When his mouth opens and a heavy sigh releases, I prepare myself for whatever he is about to tell me. From the look of him, it can’t be good.
“My father… he knew yours, years ago.”
Everything around us turned to dust. All I can hear is his voice. Those words. Our fathers knew each other. He never thought to mention that before? After the years we have worked together, hell and even been friends?
“When your father stole all that money… It broke my family. My father went into a financial crisis and my mother left him. He has never gotten over that.”
My stomach drops. All these years I have never stopped to think how those families were affected by my father’s actions. Sure, I thought about how they lost all that money, but not how their lives would be ruined because of it.
“That still doesn’t explain why my father wrote to you.”
He shuffles on the stool and places his hands in his lap. “You might want to read it.”
Nathan stands up and pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it. And remember, I didn’t want you to find out this way. I never wanted what your father did to affect our friendship. You are nothing like him.”
Nathan walks out the door and I’m left with this letter in my hand. I bite my lip and can’t bring myself to look at the letter.
“Another beer, please!” I yell to the bartender at the other end.
After she sits it down in front of me, I chug it down and then my eyes land on the letter.
Nathan,
You might not ever open this letter. You might not even know who I am, and I hope that’s the case. But I had to write to you regardless. My name is Hiram Navaldi. I met you when you were just around ten years old at a family barbecue. You reminded me a lot of my own son. A happy, go lucky kid, with no worries in the world. Your father wanted to secure a future for you. Just like I did for my own son.
My fist bangs against the barback. What good he did. The future he secured for me was growing up in foster care because of his stupidity. Nothing he did was for me. Anyone would have known how immoral what he did was. Stealing people’s hard earned money. Why wouldn’t Nathan have ever mentioned knowing my father? Or what happened to his?
My hand slides across my face as the bartender sits another beer down. I don’t know if I can keep reading. Somehow he has found a way to get to me through Nathan and it’s killing me. Why can’t he just leave me alone?
I dive back into the letter, trying with all my might to finish it.
Before he agreed to do business with me, we went out for drinks a couple of times, and he boasted about you for hours. He thought you would end up getting a football scholarship to some big college, and then go on to the pros, but just in case, he wanted to have a trust ready for you. He didn’t want you to have to struggle a day in your life. That’s how a father is supposed to feel about their child. They are supposed to protect their child at any cost. Show them how to be a man. Teach them right from wrong. In that aspect, I failed miserably. Your father had the right idea and I’m sorry that was taken away from him. His gift to you. I can only hope you know how proud your father was of you.
When I was released, there were many things I needed to do, but first I wanted to apologize to your father. After some research, I stumbled upon an article about his death, that he took his own life, and I can only begin to blame myself for that.
