Chapter Twenty-Four
Shawn
Breakfast was fun. In a lot of ways, it was just like old times. It was great! I was able to hang out with Valerie without worrying about stupid Dalilah breathing down my neck and worrying about what hell she was going to give me when I saw her next.
I was worried about what she was going to do, but I had meant what I said. If she messed with Valerie, she wasn’t going to like my response.
As far as Valerie’s car was concerned, I knew that I was slightly jealous, but that was nothing all that new. Everyone knew that and I felt like I had good reason to be.
Like I had told Valerie in the diner, it had nothing to do with her. I was happy for her. If her mother was not married to my father, I would have absolutely nothing to say or think about the car, except for my happiness for her. But I wished my father had shown me even a fraction of the love, support and enthusiasm that he showed Valerie.
Since he could give her things and encourage her to do well, I knew he was capable of it, so I didn’t think I was as jealous as I was angry at the impossibility of ever being treated fairly by either of my parents. My mother simply didn’t care about me and my father always seemed disappointed in. me.
Yet, in light of my new situation, I was beginning to think that staying with my father was going to be the lesser of two evils. At least there, I had two people that I knew cared about me.
Then again, if I moved back home, where would Valerie and I go to get away?
This decision was a process. I knew that, but the fact that the thoughts were even crossing my mind made me seriously contemplate the conversation that we had on the way back to my mother’s house.
“So…” Valerie said cautiously, “How is it living with your mom?”
I laughed and answered honestly, “Terrible!” Then, I looked at her and answered, “Although living alone isn’t so bad, except when there is only alcohol left in the fridge. That sucks a little.”
Valerie made a face and I had a feeling that I had said too much. “Eww…Are you hungry?”
I shook my head. “No. I always find something.” I shrugged and added, “Mom is almost always at her boyfriend’s. I don’t really have much to do with her and just like when I was little, she has very little to do with me.” I shrugged. “I guess it’s a mutual thing. I’m not really sure.”
“Well, have you ever considered coming home?” she asked me, almost as though she was far too hopeful about it.
I tried to remain neutral. “Yeah, I guess. But it’s not like it’s much better. My dad definitely doesn’t want me to come back.”
“You don’t know that,” she answered. “I think he misses you. My mom thinks he misses you and we know that we miss you. My mom talks about you all the time.”
I considered it for a moment and answered thoughtfully, “You really think so? You think he actually misses me, you mean?”
“Absolutely. You’re his son. He wants you to be happy.”
“But this,” I replied, unable to stop myself, “makes me think that he is just the same as he always was.”
“He is. I just think that you two should try to work things out. Instead of being so passive aggressive with him, you need to talk to him. You should tell him that what he is doing bothers you and that you want to have the father you remember back.”
I stared at her strangely for a moment, since I wasn’t used to her being so blatant and open with me. “I don’t know. I think that he’s just going to shut me out.”
She shrugged. “All you can do is try.” After she stopped the car at a light, she looked over at me and answered with a heavy connotation, “At the very least, the ratio of food to alcohol is always far more appealing. If you don’t want to starve, that is.”
I knew that was going to come back to haunt me, I thought, realizing that probably wouldn’t be the last time I had my honest words used against me.
I shrugged and even as I made my defense, I knew that it was not only lame, but also far too late. “It’s really not that bad. I mean, I’m not starving. I always manage. It’s just annoying.”
She nodded. “Well, that still doesn’t sound like an environment I would like to have to spend my last year of high school in. Your father might be rough on you, but at least you know that he loves you and is going to provide for you.”
“Yeah…If he’ll take me back into ‘his house’ as he likes to say.”
“I’m sure he will,” she answered and then as she started the car again, she smiled. “In fact, why don’t we test the waters? Come to the house one night next week. Have an actual home-cooked meal and enjoy our company. I know that my mother and I would love to have you and if you feel so inclined, you can talk to your father about moving back home…or at least have a conversation with him about how you’re feeling and if things don’t go well, you can just go home.”
With that, we pulled into my mother’s driveway. I stared up at the house and realized that I really didn’t want to stay there for much longer. I must have really felt weird though, because I realized that I was seriously considering what she was saying. In fact, after a few moments of contemplation, I realized that I actually did want to go to dinner with them. I wanted to enjoy a meal at the table where I had grown up and spend time with the people who mattered to me, just as much as I mattered to them.
As I found out, somewhat begrudgingly, that was an extremely short list.
Finally, I answered, “You know what? Sure!”
“Really?” Valerie asked, seeming extremely excited about the possibility of me working things out with my father.
I didn’t know why she cared so much, but I was happy that she did. It made me feel good to know that at least somebody was looking out for me.
“Yeah,” I smiled, realizing that her excitement was somewhat contagious. “I guess I could do that. Just tell me what day to show up. My schedule is open.”