The only pool table in the place is hidden in the back room. My dad and I used to come here on the weekends when I didn’t have hockey. We’d hang out and have a couple sodas while he taught me how to shoot a pool cue, so I know exactly where to find him.
“Mind if I join?”
My dad glances up from his perfectly lined-up shot. “Evan?” He stands up straight, the pool stick at this side. “What are you doing here?”
His jeans are worn-in around the knees, and his work boots are completely scuffed and discolored at the toes, telling me he came here right from the construction site. My dad is a blue-collar man who works back-breaking jobs to provide for his family. His kids are both extremely successful in their respected fields, yet he continues to put in hours, offering his blood and sweat, regardless of how many times Lindsey has volunteered to retire him.
“I wanted to see you.”
My dad stands still in shock.
“I was hoping we could talk.”
He finally nods his head. “We can talk.”
I walk around the table opposite him, both of us keeping our eyes on the random pool balls scattered around the table and not on each other.
“Re-rack them,” my dad suggests.
I do as he says, lining up the balls for a new game. I sense his confused stare on me all the while, and it follows me as I pull a cue off the wall.
When I turn back to face him, he quickly pulls his eyes away from me. “Go ahead and break.”
A small smile slides across my lips. “You can’t just give me the break.” I pull a coin out of my pocket, holding it up and reminding him this is how we always used to do it.
His chest vibrates with a small laugh. “Tails.”
Flipping the coin, I grab it from the air and slap it down on the back of my hand. “Tails it is.”
We stay silent as my dad breaks, tension thick in the air between us. But it’s not a negative form of pressure. It’s just that we both know there are a lot of things about to be said.
One of the striped balls falls into the far-left corner, giving him another shot.
We remain silent as he lines up again.
Four more shots alternate between us before finally, as I’m lining up my stick, I look up at him.
“I saw Mom.”
His eyes dart to mine. “What?”
I lean my pool stick against the table as I stand up straight. “I invited her over last week.”
His face drops with sympathy. “Oh, Evan. Are you okay?”
I nod, unable to speak.
“What did you two talk about?”
“We didn’t really talk. I talked. At her.”
He stays silent, staring at me. My dad’s eyes are an interesting shade of gray, the skin around them wrinkled from age and years spent in the sun. They hold a thousand questions as he looks at me, though he doesn’t verbally ask a single one.
“I’ve been so angry for so long,” I remind him. “I took all that anger out on you because you were here, and she wasn’t, but you didn’t deserve any of it. She had way too much power over my life, and I was tired. I wanted my control back.”
Those gray eyes of his turn a bit glossy. “You had every right to be angry at me. I’m the reason why she left.”
“No, you’re not. Mom is the reason Mom left, but you stayed, and I haven’t been able to thank you for that.”
He keeps his head down.
“I’m sorry for holding it against you all these years. I was selfishly so hurt that I couldn’t see what you were doing at the time. I felt abandoned by both of you, but you were gone because you were working more, making sure my life wouldn’t change. Hockey isn’t cheap, but I never missed a tournament because of you. You covered Lindsey’s LSATs. You made sure I had a good place to live. I never went hungry. I had everything I needed, and I haven’t thanked you for that.”
He nods, keeping his eyes on the ground.
“So, thank you, Dad.”
He quickly uses his calloused fingertips to wipe under his eyes.
Finally, my dad looks up at me. “I know I wasn’t the same dad to you that I was before she left, but I tried. I really tried, Evan.”
“I know.”
“I was hurting in my own way, but at the same time, I felt guilty that I wasn’t enough to make your mother stay. I was the reason she left you, so sometimes it was hard to be home and see you. I thought you hated me, and I didn’t blame you one bit.”
Fuck, now my eyes are burning. “I never hated you, Dad. I needed you then, and I still do now.”