His problem with me. As I was growing up, it turned out, was simply that I looked like my mum. My brothers looked more like him, brownish hair, blue eyes but my hair was more of a dirty blond and I had the bluey, green coloured eyes that my mum had. And that trait is what had caused him to take a swing at me, every opportunity he got. We sorted out our shit and now he lives in a bungalow on the grounds of my house, with his new wife, Sandra. Sandra works as my housekeeper and cleaner, my dad as my groundsman and they take care of the place and my dogs while I’m away on tour or doing stuff with the band.
None of the shit my dad went through as a soldier gives him the excuse to behave the way he did, but once he was given the help that he needed, he admitted and accepted that he’d been in the wrong. He’d not had a drink in years and was once again playing a major part in the lives of myself and my brothers and their families. Our relationship would never be perfect but he was my dad, and I loved him. I’d lost too much in my life to hold grudges.
“Dad, draw the curtains and fuck off.”
“He’s going nowhere. We’re going nowhere. You’re going to the shower.”
Who the fuck’s voice was that? I opened one eye again and through the bleariness, could see what looked like about a half dozen people standing in my bedroom doorway.
What the actual fuck?
I shut my eye again and huffed.
“I don’t know who you are, or what you want, but I’m telling you all now, I’m not getting up. So you can all go get fucked.”
I turned my head in the opposite direction, just to let them know I wasn’t moving.
“Oi… Reed, I’ve flown twelve thousand miles to come and see you. I’m not talking to you from your bedroom doorway and I’m not coming in because I’m scared of what I might catch. I’d rather take my chances with Ebola than step foot in there and face whatever’s causing that smell. It’s rank.”
For fuck’s sake! They’re not gonna leave me alone are they?
I roll over onto my back and slowly sit. Opening my eyes, I take in the people standing in my bedroom door. There’s my dad, with a bucket in his hand, Lawson, looking thoroughly pissed off, Tyler, standing with his arms folded and trying hard but failing not to grin and the biggest surprise of all, Josh Gardner, my life-long best friend. I can’t help but smile as soon as our eyes meet and then it hits me. Everything I’ve held inside for the past few weeks, every thought, feeling and emotion that I’ve drunk myself into unconsciousness to forget, comes rushing to the surface. I rest my back against the headboard, bring up my knees, drop my head between them and cry, like a fucking pussy… I cry.
My dad is the first one there. He stands at the edge of my bed, pulls my head into his chest and holds me and it feels so fucking good. Something as simple as human contact, being held by someone that genuinely cares well, you can’t put a price on that. I wrap my arms around his waist, press the side of my face into his chest and hold on tight while I just let the tears come. My shoulders shake and my chest and throat hurt with the force that they leave my body. My dad just keeps holding me, gently rubbing the back of my head.
“Let it out, son, let it all out. You shoulda done this weeks ago.” I feel him take a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. “Take it from someone who knows, locking yourself away from the people that love ya and drowning your sorrows in a bottle, never helped anyone.”
Somewhere in the distance, I hear my dad’s wife Sandra, telling everyone to get out and go and wait downstairs.
“We love ya, Con. We’re all worried about ya, mate. Now get yourself in the shower and put on some clean clothes. Sandra’s gonna make some breakfast and strip this bed.”
I look up into my dad’s blue eyes, but he kneels down so we’re at eye level and rests his hands on each of my shoulders. “None of it’s your fault,” he shakes his head as he talks. “None of the horrible things that's happened to you are your fault. You’re a good man, Conner. You could’ve grown up to be a complete arsehole, blaming the world for all the things that were out of your control, but you didn’t. You turned it all around and I’m so very proud of you son, so very, very proud of the man you’ve become.”
I take in a shaky breath, stunned at my dad’s words.
“In saying all of that, you stink boy, so do us all a favour and go and get in that shower.”
I wipe my nose on the back of my hand and give him a small smile.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime mate, anytime.” He pats my back a couple of times.