He laughs, “Liam, God son,” he takes a deep breath. “My guess, you’ve got a fight on your hands?”
I tip my head, rolling his words around and trying to form an answer. Before I can speak, he opens his mouth and continues.
“I always knew, with how badly I had to fight just to get your mom to give us a chance, that it would come easy once we finally got there. She has and always will be worth every fight and every struggle. I knew the second she came into my life that she was it. One look in a smoky, crowded bar, and I was knocked so hard on my ass I’m sure that I still have the bruise to show for it even now two decades and then some years later.”
With nothing but an empty glass, I lean back and wait for him to continue.
“When you were playing ball in high school, what did I tell you?”
Clearing my throat, I say, “That anything worth having is worth fighting for.”
“Exactly that. I don’t listen much when your mother is yammering on the phone with the girls. I sit back and let her do her thing knowing if she needs to clue me in, she will. So, son, tell me about her.”
“Tell you about?” I hedge.
“Megan.”
“You sure you don’t listen in, old man?” I laugh.
He winks and I laugh. Then, just like Mom, I tell my father everything about Megan and Molly. As I speak, his knowing eyes get bright and I watch as, through my story, my father loses himself in his own memories. When I finish speaking, he clears his throat and drains his glass dry.
“It’s like history repeating itself, Lee,” he oddly adds when I finish speaking. “Not the exact same, but the foundation built on the same rocky ground.”
“Riddles don’t suit you,” I quip.
“I suppose not when you’ve got more on your mind than you can keep up with.” He studies me before speaking again, “One look, you said?” At my nod, his smile grows. “Buckle up, son, it’s going to be a bumpy road.”
“I’ve got four wheel drive,” I laugh.
“Liam, I’m really not sure I can add anything here that will help you. As far as I can tell from what you’ve just told me, you’re about ten steps ahead of where I was when I was wearing your shoes. Half the battle is already won. You’re in and breaking down that wall, you just need to make sure you’re ready to catch her when she falls from that prison she’s been living in.”
“And if she doesn’t ever get to that point? Because I’ve got to say, I have a hard time seeing the end game through all of this right now.”
His hand comes out and grips my shoulder, hard. “That is not an option you give yourself, bud. You don’t give up and you damn sure don’t allow her to give up on you or herself. Your plan’s a good one. Hell, it’s a great one. But I promise you, it’s one that is going to have her hurting before she can heal. From what I know about Megan, she’s been given a lot of pain in her life. It’s up to you to show her that in pain there is always beauty to be found.”
“I don’t want to give up on her.”
“Then don’t. Honestly, son, this isn’t about you right now. Sure, in a way it is, but until you get her to . . . what did you call that list?”
“Feeling Alive,” I tell him.
“Yeah, until you get her to remember how to live past that pain she’s been clutching tight to, then you need to hold on and gear up. What’s the next step?”
“Number two on the list was karaoke.”
His brows furrow. “What in the hell is there about karaoke that put it on the list at number two?”
I smile, feeling that determination that I had started to lose come back.
“You have to learn to laugh when you feel so scared that you just want to run and hide. You have to hike those big girl pants up and even though you want nothing more than to run back to your little bubble of safety, and push through the fear to let yourself dance to the music.”
He smiles and I look into my father’s eyes and give him a big grin of my own.
“Proud of you, son. She isn’t going to know what hit her with my boy working that Beckett magic.”
I laugh, “I hope she doesn’t. Thanks for the chat, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you too, bud. Now tell me how much you hate those ten-hour shifts.”
We spend the next hour talking about how my shifts at work are going now that I’m on patrol. He tells me how things are going down where he works at Corps Security and as always reminds me that he wishes I had decided to come and work for him and not joined the force.
By the time my mom joins us we’d moved into the living room, beers in each hand, and the television on the sports channel. I don’t leave until long after my mom had filled my stomach with a meal fit for a king and a calming sense of purpose to get my girls.
IT’S BEEN A WEEK SINCE Liam stood at my front door and hugged my daughter goodbye.
A week of silence from him.
A week of me missing him fiercely.