Chapter Twenty-One
Jaxon
Every time I come home to visit, I work out with my dad. It’s been that way ever since I left for college. But this morning’s workout was awkward, to say the least. I went with Dad and Matty, meeting up with Deuce and Trace. It was like being the fifth wheel on a double date. The boys paired up and did their own thing, under the watchful eye of their dads. And the two retirees went through the motions of maintaining their physique. Neither of them is as solid as they used to be, but they aren’t slouches either.
The only thing that made it bearable was Deuce’s incessant chatter and jokes. Where Dad clammed up whenever we talked about my role in football, Deuce had no problem ribbing me, which is the way I like it. Yes, he pokes fun, but there is no doubt in my mind Deuce has mad respect that I stay on the team, despite the very real possibility that I’ll never actually play a college football game, just because I love the game.
Dad doesn’t seem to get that. No, he stayed quiet for the two hours we were at the gym. Even Deuce noticed Dad’s abnormal demeanor and asked if he was getting laid enough. Then he laughed his ass off at my gagging sounds.
Now that we’re home and Mom and Lucy are off on their annual Black Friday shopping trip, there’s no buffer between us and the obvious distance. I need to get out of here, so I can get out of my head.
Me: What are you doing this afternoon? Wanna hit a movie with me?
I’m not expecting Kade to answer right away. We’ve texted back and forth a lot the last week or so, just random shit. He really is as into comics and video games as I suspected. But I’m also coming to the realization that Annika was right—he has no one.
Based on our conversations, no one realized he came to visit me, and he disappeared for almost thirty-six hours. Not his mom, not his teachers. He didn’t even have any friends who were looking for him. It makes me sad for him. But it also makes me feel sad for me. He’s my brother. For the most part, I’ve been surrounded by loving and supportive family my entire life, while my dad’s son has been all alone. It’s not fair.
Kade: Hell, yeah! Marvel just released the newest one. I’ve been dying to see it.
I snicker. Yeah, he’s a total comic book freak. But at least we have something in common—I have yet to be disappointed in the big screen version of the characters.
Me: Cool. I can be there to get you in about an hour. That gives you plenty of time to shower and get all gussied up for the ladies.
Kade: See you then.
Ok, there aren’t actually any ladies we’re going to see, but I’m not quite sure how else to encourage his hygiene habits. Maybe it’s not my place to say anything, but clearly no one else has. And if he wants to make friends, maybe smelling a bit better will help.
Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I grab a Tupperware of cooked chicken breasts out of the fridge and make a plate to tide me over until I get some movie theater popcorn.
“What are you up to?” Dad saunters in the room, going for a plate too. When he puts it by mine on the counter, I snag another two chicken breasts with my fork and pop them on his plate. Working out makes all of us hungry.
“I’m heading out in a bit. Kade and I are going to a movie.”
I don’t have to look to know his whole body just stiffened. I can practically feel the concern rolling off of him.
Looking him in the eye, I challenge him with, “You gotta problem with that?”
He sighs and shakes his head. “I just want you to be careful. I don’t trust his intentions.”
“You’ve never met him. You have no idea what his intentions are.”
After placing one of the plates in the microwave, he leans against the counter and crosses his arms. “I’ll give you that one. But Jax, don’t you find it weird that he randomly comes out of the woodwork fourteen years later? It just makes me wonder if his mother put him up to it because she needs money.”
“Seriously?” I sneer. “My brother finds me after all these years because no one else bothered to enlighten me on the subject, but you automatically assume it has something to do with you and your money? He’s my brother.”
“You don’t know that yet. And besides, you already have a brother. He’s upstairs playing video games.”
Finally, I snap. “I. Am not. A HART!” I yell.
My dad reels back like he’s been slapped, which should make me feel bad. But he doesn’t get it. I look at the floor when I speak again because I don’t want to see the look of hurt on his face. I may never be able to explain this to him again.
“I am a Hart because of nurture, Dad. You’ve raised me to be who am I since I was seven years old. But there’s another part of me. The Bryant part. It’s not perfect. It sure as hell isn’t athletic. But it’s me. And if you can’t accept that part of my life, that part of my history…” I run my hand down my face in exasperation. “If you keep dismissing that part of me like it’s irrelevant, then you’re not the hero I thought you were.”
I chance another look at him. Except for the tick in his jaw, he hasn’t moved.
Pushing my plate aside, I grab my car keys. “I gotta go. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
I don’t bother waiting to see if he’ll stop me. I leave, slamming the door behind me.
* * *
The snick the door makes sounds louder than normal because of how quiet it is in the house. I guess everyone is asleep since it’s close to midnight. Everyone except my dad.
The light from the TV tells me exactly where he is—sitting on the couch in the living room with his feet up on the coffee table, watching ESPN. What I didn’t expect was the bottle of Johnny Walker Black sitting next to him.
“Gift from Henry Davidson?”
Making a sound of satisfaction when he swallows, he lowers his glass and pours two fingers in a second glass I hadn’t noticed before. “It’s good stuff. Try it.” He hands me the extra glass.
Bringing it to my lips, I try not to grimace from the smell. The burn on the way down my throat is even worse.
“Must be an acquired taste,” I say through my cough as I beat my own chest.
He gives me a half-hearted smile. “I should have picked up more Shiner when we were out today.”
“I was born and bred in Texas. It’s almost a requirement to drink it.”
The rumble of his chuckle is the only response I get before we go back to sitting in silence. I guess that’s better than fighting with him, but I don’t like how awkward things are between us. He’s my dad. He’s a great dad. I just don’t know when I became such a disappointment to him.
“I fell in love with you when you were seven years old.”
His words cut through the silence like a knife. Choosing my words less carefully than I should, my automatic reaction is to banter.
“That sounds creepy, Dad.”
He looks at me and smirks. “Someday when you’re a father you’ll understand what I mean by that. It’s the only way to truly describe what it feels like to be a parent. I love football. I love my mom. I love my job. But I’m so in love with my kids, sometimes it hurts to breathe.”
“Then why are you disappointed in me?”
There. I said it. I laid it on the line and put the ball in his court. We may never have a chance to hash this out again. I’m ready to have this conversation and be done with it.
His expression isn’t what I expected. He looks…sad. “I’ve never, ever wanted you to think I’m disappointed in you.”
“Well, you have a shitty way of showing it.” I take a breath to gather my thoughts. “I’m not yours. I know it. I’ve always known it. I’m not able to follow in your footsteps. Not in football. Not in business. I’m not who you want me to be.”
“That’s not true,” he vehemently denies, pointing at me. “You are exactly who I want you to be. And you have always been mine.”
“Really? You’re not at all disappointed I’m not going to be working in the industry?”
He looks back to the TV, not making eye contact, and I know I’ve nailed it on the head. It hurts, I admit. I don’t like being a disappointment to him.
“It’s not that.”
“It’s not?” I challenge. “You won’t even talk to me about Matty’s games. Mom is the one who tells me when he’s accomplished something, not you. Sure, you start telling me. I hear the excitement in your voice, see how proud you are in every gesture. Then you you look at me, your disappointment shows all over your face. You clam up and pretend it never happened when I’m around, because it’s just a reminder that I’m lesser than.”
He looks stunned that I would call him out. “That’s not what happens at all. I just…”
“You just what?”
“I don’t ever want you to think I’m prouder of him than I am of you. Or that I love him any more than I love you.”
“You have a really bad way of showing it.”
Our eyes make contact and hold, like we’re vying for control. For the first time in maybe my entire life, he’s the first to look away.
“In this family, you’re either allowed in on the celebrations or you’re treated like you don’t deserve to know.” I spew out the words, not with malice, but with all the hurt I’ve felt over the years. “That’s not keeping me from feeling like Matty is more important. That’s drawing a line in the sand. You’ve made it clear I’m either a part of football in this family or I’m not part of the family completely.”
“Jax—”
“No” I cut him off. “I was in that hospital room with you every time Dr. Bates reminded us of the side effects of my treatments—potential growth issues, potential heart issues, potential sexual issues, potential dental issues. I knew, knew, any dreams I had of going pro were dead before we ever got the all clear on the cancer. But Dad, they were the dreams of a nine-year-old boy. Those dreams die for almost everyone. You’re one of the very few who had them come true.”
His cheeks are flushed, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s angry or ashamed. But now that I’m on a roll, I can’t stop.
“I don’t keep playing football because I have a dream or because I’m trying to win your approval. I play football because it’s fun. I have friends on the team. I get the best seats in the stadium when I dress out and sit on the bench. And Dr. Bates said I need to exercise for the rest of my life. Why not have fun doing it instead of getting used to a row machine and treadmill already?
“I’ve never strived for greatness in the game. But you know what I have strived for greatness in? Math, science, and statistics. Those are things I enjoy, that I’m not only good at but are also attainable. You missed that part, didn’t you? It wasn’t an extension of your dreams, so there was no reason to notice that part of me until I changed my major.”
He points his finger and interrupts my rant. “Now that’s not true. I’ve always known you were good at that stuff. That’s why we talked about you being an agent.”
“No, you talked about me being an agent. I went along with it for a while because maybe, just maybe, I’d be included in this family if I did.”
“That’s not fair—”
“You’re right. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to me.” I shake my head, exhausted from the emotion of this conversation. “I was the only Bryant left until Kade came along, and you remind me of that every single time you shut me out of the Hart side.”
Taking a deep, calming breath, I suddenly have the need to be alone to put myself back together.
“Look, Dad, you’ve been the best father a kid can ask for. Always. But you have to sort this shit out. If you’re trying to protect my feelings, or whatever, stop. It doesn’t work and the only thing that happens is you shut me out. My dreams are mine. Just like Matty’s dreams are Matty’s. None of them are yours. Support us and encourage us. But for the love of Christ, stop trying to manipulate them.”
I turn and walk away, unwilling to see how badly my words hurt him.
“Jason, tell him.” I stop dead in my tracks as I hear my mom’s voice calling from their bedroom door. “Tell him the truth. Stop trying to protect him from your own insecurities and level with him.” Her breath hitches, and I know she’s trying not to cry, but I refuse to turn around. “I’m tired of the two most important men in my life struggling to get along because they keep skirting around their issues.”
I hear their door close, and I assume she went back to bed. My dad clears his throat before speaking. “It’s not disappointment. It’s never been disappointment. It’s always been fear.”
His words make me lose my breath. “Fear of what?”
He sucks in a couple breaths, like he wants to answer, but it takes him a few tries before he finally gets his words in order. “Before Matty was born, I was afraid of how that would change our relationship. I knew I loved you all the way into my bones, but with him being my biological child, I didn’t know if it would feel different, ya know?”
Whether he wants them to or not, his words make my gut clench. I’m afraid of what he’s going to say. No kid, even if he’s an adult, wants to hear that his father loves his siblings more. Even in these circumstances. As much as I stand to lose, as much pain as I may face, I can’t walk away. I have to listen.
“But then he was born. And not only did I have so much love for him, but the love I had for you grew. I didn’t know I could feel that strongly about anyone. I didn’t know those feelings could intensify. But they did. And it happened again when Lucy was born.
He takes a sip of his drink, and I hear the empty glass hit the table as he puts it down. “Then Matty started getting really good at football and you…”
“Didn’t?” I offer, finally turning around.
He gives me a pointed look. “Found other interests. My entire life has revolved around football. I didn’t know how to talk about math and science, but I didn’t want our relationship, our closeness, to change.
“As Matty gets older, I see so much of myself in him. The same drive, the same determination. It’s actually weird how much alike we are.”
“And I’m like Austin, the man you hate.”
I expect him to agree with me. To say he has a hard time not seeing the man he hates whenever he looks at me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he shrugs.
“I don’t know. I never met Austin.”
“But you don’t dispute that you hate him.”
He sighs. “Hate is a strong word. From everything I know, he was a wonderful father to you, and I will always be grateful for that. But I have a serious lack of respect for the way he treated your mother. When she hurts, I hurt. So yes, if I think too much about it, it still makes me angry.”
“And with Kade showing up, now you have to think about it more.”
“I admit, it’s been harder to put out of my mind recently. Mostly because I had to see the look on your mom’s face when that old wound opened up.”
I cringe and squeeze the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “I didn’t want to tell her, Dad. I don’t know that I could have seen her crushed like that. I still remember how much she cried before you came along, and I was only six.”
“It wasn’t your job to tell her, Jax. She and I are a team. It’s my job to support her through bad times like it’s her job to support me during bad times. But you’re missing my point.”
Sitting down next to him, I prop up my feet on the table in front of us and stare blankly at the TV, mirroring his pose.
“Yes, I’m excited about seeing Matty’s future. I’m excited for all the possibilities. And I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a stage dad.”
The comment makes me chuckle. “I’ll say. Did you really tell the coach Hart men are destined for football greatness?”
He groans and rubs his face. “Yeah, that wasn’t exactly my finest moment.” Turning to me, he gently punches my leg with his fist. “Jax, it’s not that I don’t want to talk about Matty with you or that I’m trying to exclude you. Hell, you’re the one person I want to talk to about it! You get it. You have such a love for the game that I want to share it with you like we used to. But I’m fucking terrified that somehow I’ll screw up my relationship with you by staying too focused on football. Or that I’ll make you feel that I don’t love you as much as I love him. When I see you, it’s a reminder not to let my excitement take over.”
That’s it? That’s what this whole issue has been? “You’re trying to tell me you have been having your own version of adoption issues?”
He shrugs and turns back to the TV. “That’s what my therapist calls it,” he says quietly, and my head whips over to look at him.
“You’re…in therapy?” All my life, my dad has been the strongest man I know. The one who holds everyone together. To hear that he’s been getting professional help himself, it feels like I’ve been doused by cold water. Of course, it also makes more sense as to why he was adamant about me getting therapy after Annika’s attack. He knew it would help, because it helped him.
He rubs his finger on his lip before answering me. “I know things have been off between us for a few years, and I don’t know how to fix it. You used to look at me like I hung the moon, and now you look at me like…” He shakes his head but doesn’t finish his sentence. “I didn’t know how to fix it so I started seeing someone in the area. Apparently, this rift isn’t that unusual in families like ours. I guess there are a lot of parents out there who have both biological and adopted kids, and sometimes the lines get blurred of how to feel and how to react to things. I’ve never, ever wanted you to feel less than, so I overcompensated and ended up doing the exact same thing I was trying to avoid. I have to live with that guilt. The fact that I caused my child an enormous amount of hurt by trying to keep him from being hurt is a tough pill to swallow.”
“You do know how ridiculous that sounds, right?”
“You know how ridiculous I feel? Although not that any of us should be surprised. I’m not always the sharpest knife in the drawer. Your mother has quite a few examples, even from way back when we first started dating.” We both chuckle, both of us seeming to feel the tension leave the room for the first time in a while. “I’m sorry, Jaxon. I never meant to make you feel less than. I’ve never been disappointed in you. Not once.”
“Not even that time in high school when I drank half your vodka and filled the bottle back up with water?”
“Okay maybe once. It took me forever to figure out why my vodka went into the freezer as a liquid and came out as a solid.”
We laugh again and spend the next few minutes sitting in silence, both of us wrapping our brains around this conversation. It never occurred to me that my dad would be afraid of losing me. That he struggles with his own adoption issues like I seem to be struggling with mine. In some ways, it’s a weird kind of bonding moment.
Clearing my throat, I decide it’s time to make my own confession. “I’ve been thinking about the foundation.”
He stiffens just slightly, and I know it’s because he doesn’t trust where this is going. “What about it?”
“Dr. Bates is getting up there in years, ya know?” I look over at him, and he’s watching me, with a ghost of a smile. “You’re probably gonna need to replace him at some point. Maybe even around the time I get through my oncology residency.”
His lips quirk up. “I’m not sure I could get Dr. Bates off the board if I tried.”
“Maybe. But it might be cool to have someone with the latest training working alongside him and all his experience. Maybe he could mentor someone to take the reins.”
He puts his arm around me, clasps my shoulder and squeezes. “I’d like that.”
Finally, finally we’re on the same page. It feels good to clear the air, although it still is kind of mind-boggling that a parent could struggle with their own version of adoption issues. That never even crossed my mind, and I’m not sure I totally understand it. But I guess until I adopt a child of my own, if I ever do, I’ll just have to take his word for it.
And I wonder briefly, if that means he’ll back off about me spending time with Kade and let his concerns go. I chuckle to myself. Not likely. But that’s a fight for a different day.