I know the answer. It’s the same for any person who’s lost someone special.
More time. One more hug. The good-bye they never got.
Jennie reaches for that invisible locket, the one that’s supposed to be hanging from her neck. “Princess Bubblegum. It’s stupid, I know. It’s just a stuffed animal, just a necklace. I can’t get my dad back, but…at least I got to carry him with me.”
She surprises me then with a smile, wide and brilliant. Even with so much lingering sadness, it’s easily the most breathtaking smile I’ve ever seen.
“Have you ever seen The Parent Trap? It was my favorite movie when I was younger. Annie and her butler had this secret handshake. It was this huge thing, super extravagant. My dad and I, we spent hours learning it. We’d do it every day. Every single day. Before he left for work, before he tucked me into bed.” She smiles wistfully at the memory. “I think if I could have anything, something that were actually possible…it would be cool to do that handshake again.” She waves a hand through the air. “What would you ask for?”
My thoughts drift to earlier tonight, the way my family was whole as we sat on the couch together and laughed, just…existed together, happy and carefree. So I tell Jennie exactly that.
When I’m done, she asks, “You and your dad don’t have the best relationship?”
“It’s just strained. He carries a lot of guilt, and the time away from each other allows the distance in our relationship to grow.”
“What does he feel guilty about? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” With a tired sigh, I drag a hand through my hair. “My parents were high school sweethearts, and my mom had me when she was seventeen. When I was six, they got married. My dad…I guess he felt like he missed out on a lot of things, becoming a father so young. He started drinking a lot, and it spiraled out of control pretty quickly. My mom decided enough was enough when he forgot to pick me up from hockey practice when I was nine because he was drunk at a bar.”
Jennie’s expression is careful while I tell her about my parents’ short-lived marriage, my dad’s struggle with alcohol, even after my mom left him, but her eyes shine with hurt for me, hold the betrayal I felt all those years ago when the person I was supposed to be able to rely on most was never able to be there for me because he wasn’t coherent enough to do so.
“When I was eleven, my dad took me for dinner. We went to this shady dive bar. It was dark and reeked like stale beer. I ate my pizza in silence while he drank. One hour turned into two, and eventually it was after ten on a school night.” My hand slides along my jaw at the memory that makes my throat tight. “I drove home because he couldn’t.”
“Garrett.” Jennie gasps softly. “You were only eleven.”
“Our neighbor saw me trying to drag him up the pathway and into the house. My dad lost his license and all visitation rights.”
“I’m sorry, Garrett. That sounds so difficult. I wish I could hug you.”
“It is what it is. In the end, it was for the best. It was the push he needed to get help, and he did. He put the work in, and he hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since. I’m proud of him.”
“You’re a good son.”
“When you told me you didn’t drink, I had to kind of sit on that for a while. Maybe I’d made the wrong decision by drinking after everything my dad went through, after what he put me and my mom through. Should I have avoided it?” I shrug. “Maybe. Probably. But I guess I didn’t want to let his past mistakes control my life.”
I see the wheels turning as Jennie contemplates my words. “Do you think I let the way my dad died control my life by choosing not to drink?”
“I don’t think that at all, Jennie. I think you saw the devastating effects alcohol could have on a family and you decided you wanted nothing to do with it. We handle it differently, and neither of us is wrong.”
“I’m glad you don’t let your dad’s past affect you.”
“Sometimes I think it does. Not much, but a little. When he was drinking, he said a lot of things he didn’t mean, or maybe he did. A lot of hurtful things, regardless, so eventually I learned it was safer to keep my mouth shut. If I was quiet, I was less likely to be on the receiving end of his words. Sometimes I still have trouble speaking my mind, like I’m worried someone might not like what I have to say.”
Guilt tugs at Jennie’s mouth. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t speak freely with me before.”
I shake my head, chuckling quietly. “I appreciate the apology, but it’s not necessary. Sure, I was intimidated by you and that made it hard for me to talk around you. But that’s because you were sexy as hell, spoke your mind, and I wanted you but knew I could never have you. There was a good chance anything I said was gonna get me de-dicked, by either you or your brother.”
She flashes a grin, dimple-popping and extra charming. “I would never de-dick you. I love your dick.”
“You’d love him more if you let him inside your Disneyland.”
Jennie laughs, but there’s a strain behind it, a sign she’s retreating just a little. She drops her gaze, and silence beats between us. I don’t know when the fuck I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut, to think a little harder before I speak. Ironic, considering the conversation we just had. But now that I’ve gotten to know Jennie, I feel at ease with my thoughts. I don’t feel like I need to withhold them from her so much, because I know she appreciates my honesty.
So while the intent behind my words may have been innocent to me, I can recognize they might sound different to Jennie.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to push you to have sex with me, and I realize it must sound like that. I respect your decision, and I won’t bring it up again.”
Jennie nods, tracing some sort of pattern on her bedspread.
“You can talk to me though; you have to know that.”
Her head lifts, blue eyes careful. “Talk to you about what?”
“About what happened.”
Her gaze goes hazy and dark. “Did Carter tell you?”
“No, Jennie. Carter didn’t tell me anything.”
I wish I were there to have this talk with her in person. Her first instinct is always to run, and mine is to hug. All I want to do is wrap her in my arms and promise her there’s another side to whatever happened, an ending where she’s able to move past it and stop letting it impact her life the way it does.
“You shut down every time we go down any direction that leads toward high school, exes, and sex. That’s how I know. And I want you to know that if you ever want to share it, I’ll keep it safe.” I’ll keep you safe.
She picks at her blanket, licks her lips. “Do you think we’d be friends even without Carter? If you sat down next to me in a coffee shop?”
“I think we share a connection that goes beyond your brother. With or without him, I wouldn’t hesitate to place you in my life and keep you there.”
There’s something so heartbreaking about the spark of life those simple words bring to her eyes, the way she bites back this trembling smile that wants to spring free, like she’s never felt so wanted and she doesn’t know what to do with the feeling. It makes me want to dedicate the rest of my life to making sure she never goes without it again.