I watched my father lick his lips for a good half hour, constantly looking around. He wanted a drink really bad. Coming to a bar was a bad idea. Hell, I wasn’t even supposed to be allowed inside the bar. But Dad threw a twenty at the bartender and made sure everyone at the bar got a cheap draft beer on him.

He fumbled with his hands. He was feeling it pretty good being in a bar.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” I said.

“Why?”

“You look…”

“I look what?” Dad asked, curling his lip.

“Nothing,” I said. “Sorry. So, when did you get out?”

“A few days ago,” Dad said. “I’m good though. I’ve got a place. Above the bar. And I’ve got a job. Washing the dishes here. All just temporary though. That’s not going to be my life, kiddo. No way. I’ve got big plans.”

“Yeah? That’s awesome, Dad. I’m proud of you.”

“Ah, fuck that. I’m proud of you. Keeping your shit straight. I hated to go back inside, you know? But things happen.”

“Hopefully those things won’t happen again.”

“Hey, don’t be a fucking judge here,” Dad said. “I’ve got enough people breathing down my neck. Over every little thing I want to do.”

I felt my gut hollow out with guilt and fear. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“How was your night? How’s your girl? Who is she again?”

“Rose,” I said.

“Frank’s kid.”

“Yeah. You know Frank?”

Dad’s lip curled. “Yeah, I know Frank.”

“You don’t like him?”

“I don’t like anyone, Kingsley.”

I hated my fucking name. Why did he have to call me by my name?

“Yeah. I hear you.”

“You hear me? What the fuck is that? Some fancy ass language now?”

“No.” I smiled. “So, do you think I can live in the apartment with you?”

“That’s the bitch of it,” Dad said, rubbing his chin. “It’s too small. I’m going to push hard. Was thinking… I mean, if you had a job…”

“We could get a bigger place,” I said, nodding.

“Yeah.”

“I’m in,” I said. “Shit, Dad, I’m in.”

He laughed. He knocked a fist on the table. He grabbed his iced tea and sipped it. I could see the look of disgust on his face that it didn’t have the punch of a shot of whiskey.

“You love that girl you’re with?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. I actually do.”

“That’s good. Don’t believe in that too young shit. I met your mother when we were both fourteen.”

My mother…

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Oh, man. My Ginny. Virginia. The first thing I asked her was if she was born in Virginia. You know, she’d never been to Virginia? Ever. How strange is that?”

“Pretty wild,” I said. “You two loved each other, huh?”

“Like wildfire to dry grass,” Dad said. “Her father hated me. Oh, Kingsley, he hated me.”

“Dad, everyone calls me Foster. You know that.”

“Foster. Right. Shit. Foster. Tough guy now. Okay. Foster, your mother’s father hated me. He did everything to keep her away. Then he got into a car accident and was on his deathbed. I went to go see him. Out of respect to your mother. That old motherfucker grabbed my hand and told me to take care of Ginny.”

“That really happened?”

“Damn straight, kiddo. And I loved her with everything I had. In a way that I could never do again.”

“So what happened?”

Dad looked at me. “Life, Foster. Life. That’s all I can say. We lived full. We lived like it was our last day. Things got out of control sometimes, but that was how it went with your mother. She was fast, man. She was lightning. She would wake up at three in the morning and just want to go somewhere. Fucking drive across the country with no money, no gas, and then we’d claw our way to the coast. She’d dip her toes into the water and spin around, the beach breeze hitting her face, her hair tangled up, and she’d have the next adventure planned. Sometimes we’d stop and spend a week in a hotel. Party. Get into trouble. Get arrested.” Dad laughed. “Beg the police for one last kiss as we were put into separate police cruisers. Ah, fuck, I miss her.”

I swallowed hard. I’d never heard Dad talk about my mother like this before.

“What happened to her, Dad?”

He blinked fast. “Enough was enough. For both of us. We forgot about each other. And the only time we remembered each other was when we were apart. It just never worked, Foster.”

“So she left us?”

“Eh, I guess so.”

“She had me and took off.”

He pointed a finger at me. “Don’t fucking talk about her badly. I didn’t come here to talk about who she is or was.”

“Right,” I said.

I swallowed some more hurt. It felt like broken glass in my throat.

“I wanted to tell you… if you do love that girl, then you do right by her. Don’t get lost in the adventure. Don’t buy into that bullshit hippie stuff, Foster. Get lost in her. You could travel the world and see every possible amazing thing on Earth… but if you look into the eyes of the woman you truly love, the world is there.”

Dad picked up the iced tea again and sipped it. He frowned at the glass.

I turned my head and looked around the bar.

I thought about Rose. I didn’t mean to hurt her if I did. I just wanted to care for her. I wanted to envision our lives together. But Frank made it clear to me that I needed to sort my shit out. Find something I could turn into a career. I hadn’t done that yet. Other than playing in a few bands, getting a few shows, making a few dollars.

“Dad, is it okay to dream big?” I asked.

“Fucking right it is,” he said. “Look, Foster, we all fall on our face. It’s the way it goes. Just be fucking happy.”

“I’m trying. I don’t want to live in a house that isn’t mine. With people that have to be nice. Or people that aren’t nice. It’s fake.”

“Okay,” Dad said. “Let me see what I can do. I’ll make some calls and shit.”

“Hey, yo! Kevin!” a voice boomed.

It had been a while since I heard someone call Dad by his first name.

“Ah, I gotta help out at the bar,” Dad said. “Hours mean money.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess so.”

“Hey, tomorrow morning, come here. Eight. I’ll get us some breakfast.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Hell yeah, Foster. Let me get through the night here. Figure out the shit in my head. Then we’ll have some breakfast and make a plan.”

I hurried to stand up. “Hey, Dad. Uh… the people I’m with now. She’s got some stuff. Nice stuff. And cash hidden. I’m sure I could… you know… help myself.”

Dad grinned. He put a hand to my shoulder. “Foster. My son. My only son. Look at you. We’ll figure this out. Together. Right?”

“Right,” I said.

Dad winked and slapped his hand to my face. He walked away, cutting between two guys at the bar. He made a loud comment about cutting people off from drinking.

I stood there, proud.

Proud?

Proud.

I felt good for my father. Holy shit. Talk about a great night.

I left the bar feeling really good. I walked by Roses’s house and saw Frank’s car there, so I kept going. No need to cause any trouble this late.

I snuck my way back home, already planning on telling Jack and Nancy that my friend decided to drink beer so I left. You know, being a good guy and all. They’d eat that shit up.

Once in bed, I put my hands behind my head.

I smiled, falling asleep thinking about Rose. Thinking about family.

Everything I ever wanted.

* * *

I ate a bowl of cereal so Jack didn’t think something was up. I grabbed my guitar and told him I was meeting up with a buddy to jam out. He made some gesture with his fingers and stuck out his tongue, telling me to rock it out. The guy was a fucking dork, but he meant well. He’d be a great father. Like a really great father. The father that ran the sidelines at a soccer game, holding a camera. All that stupid shit.

I’d be out of their hair soon enough and hopefully they’d get the baby they’d always wanted.

I had to take my guitar with me to make my lie legit.

When I got to the bar, I pulled at the front door and it was locked. I pulled again and again.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

I stepped back and looked up to the apartments above it. There had to be a way to get up there.

I walked around the side of the building and found a set of wooden steps. They ended at a big landing with two doors. One of those was my father’s.

Smiling, I hurried up the steps.

I knocked on the first door. No answer.

I tried again and switched over to the other door.

Knocking again. Waiting again.

“Shit,” I whispered.

I looked around.

I walked down the steps and eyed the back door to the bar. The door then flew open and out came a skinny and rough looking old man. A crooked cigarette between his lips.

“What’cha looking at?” he croaked.

“I’m looking for Kevin,” I said. “My father.”

“Huh? Kevin…”

“Yeah. He works here. Lives up there.”

“Lives up there? Ain’t no Kevin living up there.”

“How do you know?”

“I live up there,” the man said. “And my neighbor is a woman named Marge.”

“What? My father was here last night. I was here. He said…”

“Kevin,” the old man said. He plucked the cigarette out of his mouth. “You’re his kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Follow me.”

I walked through the back of the bar. The smell of old grease and cheap cleaner stung my nose. The old man pushed through a squeaky door and we went to the front of the bar. It was quiet, calm, almost scary. No neon lights. No TV’s. No noise.

“Fucking fell asleep here,” the old man said.

“What?”

“Got twisted up on booze. Got into a fight and got his ass knocked out.”

“That’s impossible,” I said. “He was sober.”

“Was… sure. Look. There’s still blood on that table.”

The old man pointed. I walked to the table where we had been sitting. There was a little blood on the table.

“I’m sorry, kid,” the old man said. “He was drinking shots. Beer. Didn’t pay a tab. Got knocked out. So we left him here. Figured this morning we could get money out of him. He slipped out this morning before I could get my hands on him.”

I looked back. “Did he say anything about me?”

“No. Nothing at all.”

“He doesn’t work here?”

“No.”

“He doesn’t live here,” I whispered.

There was that sinking feeling I was used to.

My father being a fucking liar and all. Coming and going. I never understood why he’d do that. Show up, build me up, and then take off.

“Kid, you gotta get out of here,” the old man said.

“Right,” I said. “Sorry.”

The old man showed me to the front door and unlocked it to let me out.

I stood there on the street corner and had no idea where my father was.

I refused to let it bother me. But that only meant taking my pain and throwing it at someone else.

My cell phone rang – Rose was calling.

I shut my eyes.

If I went near her… I would only end up hurting her beautiful heart.