His sigh is deep as he wraps both big hands around his already half-empty glass. He never drinks like this. He抯 always controlled, always steady.
揑 don抰 know, exactly. But, I guess it抯 some form of PTSD. Dr. Dale and I have surmised that it has to do with the couple years of isolation I had when Hazel was born.?He rubs a palm along his stubble and finishes his drink. 揑t wasn抰 like it was anything that could be helped, though. I was unprepared, completely, to be a dad. I thought I抎？fuck, it sounds so lame saying this?but I thought I抎 have her for only short, small periods of time. I didn抰 know I抎？and then, I felt like I was doing everything wrong, when she wasn抰 always meeting the milestones that they say they should meet at those certain points. But she was so brilliant and beautiful and I loved her. I just桰 guess I insulated us? Especially when we learned that she was Deaf, and no one had caught it prior to that. I had to teach myself a new language, along with teaching her. I didn抰 realize just how much I was isolating myself since I was working, still. Writing, at least. But I didn抰 need to be anywhere in person often and going out was such a hassle. I didn抰 trust anyone to watch her back then.?
揗eyer. That抯 all completely understandable. No one could have prepared you for all of that at once. You didn抰 do anything wrong.?
揥ell, I know that now, Jones. But back then it also felt like I was giving up on myself. None of my stand-up material was super sharp or high-caliber, since everything else had turned into these stories that had to have more meaning, more depth. They worked for shows but not so much as jokes. I had to be able to show the whole picture, you know? Still, I was determined to get up there and do it because it was what I抎 always done.
揂nd then I couldn抰。 I didn抰 just fall apart, Fee. I evaporated. I didn抰 even like it梐t all梐nymore. I hated all the faces and all the noise and there was no part of me that wanted that attention anymore.
揑 still love laughter. I still love comedy, but I didn抰 want to get up there and tell jokes about being a dad and how shitty it can be when I couldn抰 go on to elaborate about how god damn Earth-shattering it is when she smiles or learns something new, too. And it抯 not like I had any dating stories, certainly not anything sexy to talk about,?he chuckles darkly, tossing back the ice and chewing on it. 揝o now, I write. And I抦 ok with it. Sometimes I miss that adrenaline, but it抯 very, very rare, Fee. Doesn抰 change the fact that it抯 fucking embarrassing, nor do I totally understand why that changed so much for me. And I really don抰 love not understanding myself. I used to feel like the smartest fucker in the room. Hell, that was why I loved it, why I did it. Now, I know better.?
A tear slides down my cheek and I restrain myself from reaching out to him. 揟he mind is a fickle bitch. I don抰 know how I get places ninety-nine percent of the time when I抦 driving. My brain just manages to take over even when I抦 consciously in a completely different scenario. I constantly wonder 慼ow the hell did I get here.?I抦 sure it抯 the same, in a way.?
His eyes close in agony and he sighs through his nose. 揋od, please don抰 bring up your driving right now. It might be the one thing that terrifies me just as much.?He finishes the drink as he shakes his head.
揑抦 sorry again, My. I hope you抣l forgive me.?
揝top,?he holds up a palm. 揑t抯 already done.?He tries to smile.
It doesn抰 sit quietly in me, though, still has my insides twisting in guilt. 揇oesn抰 this make you miserable? Taking me to do all this all the time??
If I couldn抰 perform anymore?So much of my self-esteem is wrapped up in it now that I can抰 quite imagine the feeling.
He turns my way again, a drop of whiskey or melted ice glistening on his lower lip. 揝urprisingly, not at all.?He doesn抰 elaborate further. And I decide I don抰 want to push him any further.
揧ou wanna get drunk??is what I offer instead.
He shrugs, his shoulders giving a weary little jump, 揊uck it.?
15
NOW
揑f love is the treasure, laughter is the key.?- Yakov Smirnoff
MEYER
I remember my mom complaining every year without fail about the speed at which the holiday season flies by. Something about the short days being shorter than normal, the early dark, and the cold. I suppose the cold was more of a factor back in Ohio versus here in California, but the sentiment still tracks.
The two weeks after the apple picking date go by in a flash, mostly spent in more paperwork and scheduling arrangements. We抳e worked out the pre-tour-tour schedule, and I抳e worked out a vacation back to Ohio for Hazel to spend with my parents, sister, and nephews.
My parents, especially, are both thrilled and shocked. My mom started crying on the FaceTime call and I realized that perhaps I have been too stingy with my trust. They both learned fluent ASL, after all, and have asked to spend more time with her over the years, repeatedly.
I had a perfectly good upbringing, milquetoast by definition, but always felt loved and cared for. And they still loved and supported me even when they didn抰 quite understand my desire to pursue stand-up. My sister and I were never particularly close until I had Haze. Now we are as close as siblings who live states apart can be, I suppose.
Nevertheless, I抦 realizing that I抳e been pretty immovable when it抯 come to letting Hazel stay away for too long, even under their care. So, I抦 sure that this is going to be good for all of us.
We抳e also got the NFL game and seats all arranged for some photo opps, but, without planning it, have already earned some extra credit as far as all that goes. There are officially photos and articles circulating online, thanks to Apple-ocalypse （Fee抯 term, can抰 take credit for it）， and even a few from our mall stroll. I抳e done an excellent job of not looking at the pictures or any captions, though?as has Fee?at least I assume, since she hasn抰 brought anything up.
She enters my mind and the barbell flies up, suddenly light even after numerous sets. I rack the thing and get up, sliding my headphones out and cutting the workout short.
I hit dial on FaceTime before I can calculate what I want to say or talk myself out of it, but it抯 ringing as I walk into the locker room.
Fee抯 face pops onto the screen, brightly smiling until she sees me and it twitches a little. 揙h hey. Meyer桰 was expecting Hazel.?
揧ou always expect Hazel when I call??
揥hen it抯 on FaceTime, yes?Oh, duh. I guess that makes sense.
揢gh ohmy桵eyer!! ACK! Where the hell are you?! God, my eyes!!?she wails, and I turn to see what looks like a frog in a human suit, standing on its hind legs. A naked old man with an indent where his ass should be梖uck梱ep, my eyes sadly went there. The man turns and Fee抯 screams echo through the room.
揗EYER WHY!!!!?
揝hit, I抦 sorry sir,?I say to the man, before I scoop my belongings out of the locker and bolt, he and his naked-old-man-clan shouting expletives behind me.
揥hy did you apologize to him?! Jesus Christ, apologize to me!?
I slide into my car and shut the door before I completely lose it. I don抰 know how long I laugh but by the end of it I抦 clutching my ribs. 揑抦 sorry Fee. I didn抰 even think,?I finally look down at her as I swipe a tear away.
She抯 smiling her biggest smile, chin cupped in her hands, clearly enjoying herself. 揑t抯 alright. You have a great laugh, you know that??
揝o I抳e been told.?Only by her. 揌ey, I wanted to ask you, do you want to get dinner with Hazel and I before the recital tonight??