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Authors: Sloan Johnson
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that likely wasn’t ever going to amount to anything and a woman with two kids I would die for. They might not be mine biologically, but it wasn’t long after we started dating that I knew they were the ones I couldn’t live without. All three of them.”
As if to help prove his point, Devon comes running through the yard, panting by the time he reaches the top step of the deck. “Dad, did you see that? I hit it all the way over to the Mickelson’s yard! I can’t wait for spring ball!” Aaron congratulates his son, ruffling his short brown hair as he pushes him to join his friends and keep playing.
“That is what I gave up music for,” he says, pointing to the yard. “If I had managed to defy the odds, I probably wouldn’t be here to congratulate him when he’s proud of himself. I couldn’t tell him that being the best isn’t everything when he falls short. If I was on the road, he’d be no better off than when I wasn’t in their lives because he still wouldn’t have a father in his life. And a boy needs that to grow into a strong man.”
I pick at the label of my beer, wondering if Aaron knows how deeply his words cut. If my own father was more like the man sitting next to me, I could talk to him about these decisions. But he’s not. He’s the man who pushed me to be something I’m not and then pushed me away when he realized I would never be the person he imagined I would become since I was a baby. He assumed that having a son meant he’d have someone to take over the shop when he decided to retire. As I got older, he talked about how I could go to college first and run the business side until that day came. The day I told him none of that was going to happen; I might as well have slapped him in the face.
“Where is this coming from? Ever since the day I picked you up at the bus terminal, all you’ve been able to talk about it your music. And how you wanted to prove to Lea that you can be a man she’s proud of.” He leans back against the railing of the deck, hovering over me, arms crossed over his chest. “Seems to me you’ve done plenty to make her proud. How’s quitting going to help you achieve any of your goals?”
Even though he’s only ten years older than me, I feel like Aaron was put in my life to be th e father-figure I always longed to have. He’s not letting me off the hook, but he’s not telling me that I’m stupid, either. He’s pushing me to come to my own conclusions. Guiding me to make the right decision rather than the easy one.
“I never said I was going to quit,” I say defensively, taking a long draw off my beer. But isn’t that exactly what I implied? That I was at least thinking about quitting? “I’m just thinking about everything more now because I’m not sure Lea wants this. I know she said she did, but now that it’s happening, she seems upset. What if she figured I would come down here and get it out of my system while she was in school so that, after she graduates, she could have what Rebecca has?”
“You have got to be kidding me,” he argues. “First of all, I was there. She was so fucking proud of you the night I brought her into the bar that she just about started crying when she saw you up there. She actually had to hold onto her chair to keep from running up to tell you in the middle of your set. And secondly, I guarantee you —she doesn’t want what Rebecca has.”
Why wouldn’t Lea want that? Rebecca has the ideal American life. Husband, kids, nice house, she has it all. Fuck, she has everything I want to give Lea. Everything a woman deserves to have.
“Do you think it’s easy for Rebecca? Every time life gets tough, she thinks it’s because I regret it. She thinks I resent her and the kids.” It’s like he could see the confusion plastered all over my face. And now, he’s on a roll, pointing out to me how not perfect their life is. It gives me even more to think about.
“I still don’t understand why she seems more pissed
As if to help prove his point, Devon comes running through the yard, panting by the time he reaches the top step of the deck. “Dad, did you see that? I hit it all the way over to the Mickelson’s yard! I can’t wait for spring ball!” Aaron congratulates his son, ruffling his short brown hair as he pushes him to join his friends and keep playing.
“That is what I gave up music for,” he says, pointing to the yard. “If I had managed to defy the odds, I probably wouldn’t be here to congratulate him when he’s proud of himself. I couldn’t tell him that being the best isn’t everything when he falls short. If I was on the road, he’d be no better off than when I wasn’t in their lives because he still wouldn’t have a father in his life. And a boy needs that to grow into a strong man.”
I pick at the label of my beer, wondering if Aaron knows how deeply his words cut. If my own father was more like the man sitting next to me, I could talk to him about these decisions. But he’s not. He’s the man who pushed me to be something I’m not and then pushed me away when he realized I would never be the person he imagined I would become since I was a baby. He assumed that having a son meant he’d have someone to take over the shop when he decided to retire. As I got older, he talked about how I could go to college first and run the business side until that day came. The day I told him none of that was going to happen; I might as well have slapped him in the face.
“Where is this coming from? Ever since the day I picked you up at the bus terminal, all you’ve been able to talk about it your music. And how you wanted to prove to Lea that you can be a man she’s proud of.” He leans back against the railing of the deck, hovering over me, arms crossed over his chest. “Seems to me you’ve done plenty to make her proud. How’s quitting going to help you achieve any of your goals?”
Even though he’s only ten years older than me, I feel like Aaron was put in my life to be th e father-figure I always longed to have. He’s not letting me off the hook, but he’s not telling me that I’m stupid, either. He’s pushing me to come to my own conclusions. Guiding me to make the right decision rather than the easy one.
“I never said I was going to quit,” I say defensively, taking a long draw off my beer. But isn’t that exactly what I implied? That I was at least thinking about quitting? “I’m just thinking about everything more now because I’m not sure Lea wants this. I know she said she did, but now that it’s happening, she seems upset. What if she figured I would come down here and get it out of my system while she was in school so that, after she graduates, she could have what Rebecca has?”
“You have got to be kidding me,” he argues. “First of all, I was there. She was so fucking proud of you the night I brought her into the bar that she just about started crying when she saw you up there. She actually had to hold onto her chair to keep from running up to tell you in the middle of your set. And secondly, I guarantee you —she doesn’t want what Rebecca has.”
Why wouldn’t Lea want that? Rebecca has the ideal American life. Husband, kids, nice house, she has it all. Fuck, she has everything I want to give Lea. Everything a woman deserves to have.
“Do you think it’s easy for Rebecca? Every time life gets tough, she thinks it’s because I regret it. She thinks I resent her and the kids.” It’s like he could see the confusion plastered all over my face. And now, he’s on a roll, pointing out to me how not perfect their life is. It gives me even more to think about.
“I still don’t understand why she seems more pissed
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