I look up at him. “I thought you were already selling it ’cause you needed money for booze?”
“Booze? No. I left you a message telling you why I was selling it. Didn’t you listen to it?”
I shrug. “Few seconds of it.”
He tucks the blue chip into his pocket, giving the panel a gentle pat. A smile twists across his mouth. “You know I can’t work computers for shit. Your mom was always better at that stuff.” His eyes fall to a space between us. “The first rehab center I found online was gonna cost me fifty grand. I figured they all cost that much these days, and I don’t have that kind of money. I’ve dipped into your mom’s life insurance policy a bit, but the rest of it I put away for you.”
My eyes widen.
He studies my response with a steady look of assurance. “I’ve known I’ve had a problem for a long time. I made it so I couldn’t touch that money, sober or not. It’s yours when you want it. I called a realtor to put the house up for sale to pay for that rehab center, but then that little spit-fire of yours came to see me.”
There’s a lot of information I should be taking in right now. My dad’s sober, I’m holding keys to the house I never thought I’d step foot in again, but that last thing he just said to me seems to be the only thing I’ve heard.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, wanting for the first time in years to hear what he has to say.
His smile grows to a full on grin now. “The redhead. She’s a feisty thing. Reminded me of your mom a bit.”
My heart knocks against my ribs, hard enough to crack several. “Tessa? She came to see you? When?” I feel myself moving closer, needing this information more than I need to breathe. “Hello? Fucking talk!”
He backs up, holding his hands up in surrender with a laugh. “Jesus. Relax, will ya? She came by…” He looks up at the ceiling for a few seconds, and I think I might actually die before he figures this out. I’m so close to beating the information out of him, but what the hell good would that do me?
He nods decisively, and a loud gush of air leaves my lungs as he comes to his conclusion.
“The day after you gave me my chip back, she came to see me. I’m not really sure what brought her there, but she had these pamphlets with her. Treatment programs for addicts that are run through the hospital. It’s great, and it’s free. I have a ton of support. I can meet with doctors if I’m having problems…”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. What did she say?”
He chuckles through his grin, reaching up and scratching along his jaw. “She laid into me a little bit. A lot, actually. Said some shit you’ve said to me, but it felt different coming from her. It was like she was protecting you or something.”
My mouth goes dry, making swallowing near impossible. “I don’t understand why she would bring you anything. She doesn’t know you. I never talked about you with her.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets, his smile fading. “That doesn’t surprise me. I can’t say anything I’ve done over the past twelve years deserved to be talked about, and I get keeping her out of all that. I do. But women, they figure shit out on their own, Son. Your mom was the same way. When they’re determined, good fucking luck keeping them in the dark about stuff.” He shakes his head through a laugh. “That girl of yours, I like her. She doesn’t take no shit. That’s a good quality to have in a woman.”
“I don’t have her anymore,” I reply.
“Then that’s your choice, not hers. ’Cause she sure as hell didn’t come to that hospital for me.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets, and grabs my shoulders, firmly holding my attention. I see the regret weighing heavy on his face, deepening his frown.
“I should’ve been better. You deserved better.”
“It’s a little late for an apology,” I say, trying to step back out of his grasp. His hands tighten their hold, and he steps closer.
“I’m not here to tell you I’m sorry. I’m not sure it would mean anything.”
“It wouldn’t,” I agree. “It wouldn’t mean a damn thing.”
He smiles. “Good. ’Cause you deserve a lot more than a bullshit sorry.” His arms pull me into a hug so quickly, I can’t think fast enough to protest it. I keep my hands at my side, not reciprocating, but not pushing away either.
“There are a lot of things I wish I could take back, but I can’t, and if you want to hate me, if you never want to see me again, I’ll understand that. What’s done is done. You’re a good man, Luke, and you’re more than I ever deserved to have in a son. I’m proud of you. I’ll always be proud of you.”
His arms release me suddenly, and he keeps his head down as he pushes open the doors that lead to the parking lot. He’s gone before I can even think of a response to what he’s just said. The only thing I’m able to do is stand there, holding the keys to the house he’s just given me.
***
I’m restless, and it’s pissing Max off.
That poor dog has been following me around the guesthouse we’ve been staying in since I walked in the door three hours ago. I’ve moved from the kitchen, to the living room, to the bedroom, back to the living room, where I’m currently trying to keep my mind off the phone charging on my dresser. The game’s on, but I’m not interested.