Page 86 of Good For Me

“I just told you—”

“You weren’t happy, kid,” he says. “There might have been aspects to bartending you liked, but it didn’t really make you happy. If it had, you wouldn’t have bounced around between jobs.”

“So we’re back to me being a screw up.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” he says, sounding maybe angrier than he has been all morning. “You’renota screw up. You’re just a man who hasn’t figured out what he wants yet. Did your mother and I want you to figure it out? Of course we did. Because we love you, kid. You have all these special gifts, all these things you’re good at. We just wanted to see you use them and be happy.”

I have the strangest urge to punch something. “Now I know you’re full of shit.” I point a finger at him. “You wanna tell me I’m not a disappointment, fine. But don’t feed me this nonsense about mygifts.” I sneer the word, anger flashing hot and sharp in my chest.

He stares at me for a long moment, like he has no idea how to respond to me. Then he surprises me by pulling out his phone. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling your mom,” he mutters. “This is definitely a two-parent kind of conversation.”

“So you want Mom to come in and deal with me because you don’t know what to say,” I scoff. “Sure, let’s ruin her morning, too.”

“I don’t want your mother to deal with you,” he says, sounding pissed again. “But you’re sure as hell not listening to me. Maybe you’ll listen to her.”

“Can we just skip all the bullshit?” I ask. “We’re supposed to be talking about the baby. So I’ll sit here like a good boy and you can tell me how pissed you are and how immature I am and whatever the hell else you want to say.”

He looks at me for a long time, silent, the phone forgotten in his hand. Suddenly he stands up, the scrape of chair legs on the old wood floor startling me. He surprises me even more when he comes around the table and takes the seat next to me, pulling it close to mine.

“Dad—”

I cut off when he grabs the back of my neck, bringing my forehead to his. “Apparently you and I have a lot to talk about,” he says in a measured voice. “There’s time for that. But you’re not leaving this room until you understand something.”

My throat is thick and I try to pull back, feeling too exposed, too raw, but he doesn’t lessen the pressure on my neck.

“Listen to me, River,” he says, voice no longer quite as measured. “You are my son. You are one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been given. And there has never been a day when I haven’t felt lucky to be your dad.” He swallows hard, his voice a little shaky. “And there has never, ever been a day when I’ve been disappointed in you. Do you understand?”

I definitely can’t speak, so I just nod. He holds my face close to his like that for a long moment before letting go, but he doesn’t move his chair back.

“I’m sorry I reacted like a dick when we started this conversation,” he says. “I was…surprised. And pretty damn scared for you, to be honest. But that’s not how things should have gone.” He eyes me. “I should have started like this—how are you feeling?”

I let out a shaky laugh. “I think I changed my mind about the coffee—you got any whiskey to put in there?”

He grins at me and something loosens in my chest. “I think this is definitely a time for whiskey.”

He grabs a bottle from the cabinet over the sink then comes back to the table. He pours a measure into both mugs and slides the one I refused earlier back over to me.

“Thanks.” The coffee has cooled off a lot but the whiskey feels warm going down, burning off some of the thick emotion that was lodged in my throat. I mentally promise Jas that this will be a one-time thing, me drinking during her pregnancy. I have a feeling she wouldn’t hold it against me considering the circumstances.

“I take it your sister knows?” Dad asks.

“Yeah.” I take another gulp of coffee. “She’s the only one.”

He nods. “Rose was very adamant when she gave us all the speech about no one giving you guys a hard time.”

I sigh. “Jas has been really overwhelmed and stressed out. I just wanted her to have a relaxing weekend before shit starts to get real.”

“This is a good place for that.” He clears his throat. “So, uh, you wanna tell me anything about how this happened?”

I narrow my eyes. “You have five kids, Dad. Do I need to tell you how it happened?”

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Who is this girl? Did you know her at all before, uh…you know.”

I bark out a laugh. “For a supposed rock star, you’re awfully prudish, Dad.”

“You wanna keep giving me shit here, kid? I’m trying.”