All I could do at that point was nod. Now that he was here, sitting in front of me, angry questions filled my head. How could you? Do you know how hard my mother works? Do you know how many kids taunted me? We protected you, and I don’t even know why.
If I opened my mouth, the dam would break. So I sat there, silently, swallowing the bitter taste in my throat. Even so — and I’m ashamed to admit it — a part of me still wanted him to like me. Wasn’t that pathetic? After all this time, I was still hoping to make a good impression.
He tapped nervous fingers on the leg of his jeans. They were a dark, expensive color, the sort of thing Stacia would pick out. He had on sleek black shoes, and a jacket which probably cost as much as my mother’s car.
“So, I’m getting a divorce,” he said suddenly.
“I saw those headlines,” I admitted. It’s not like I wanted him to know I’d been cyber-stalking him over the years. But his divorce had hit the news right after I’d sent my letter. Anyone could have seen it.
“Well, I didn’t lay hands on your letter for a few weeks. You sent it to Connecticut, and I’ve been staying in the city.”
I nodded again, trying to focus on what he was saying. But, seriously, sitting there was like having some kind of out-of-body experience. I couldn’t stop staring at him, noticing all the little ways we looked alike. His eyebrows were unruly like mine.
“My wife — my ex-wife — she described the envelope to me, told me who it was from. And that’s when I told her about you.”
“Told her?” The words came out of my mouth as a squeak.
He nodded. “She never knew about you. I made a lot of mistakes, Adam. But last month I told her anyway, even though she’d already left me. Keeping secrets was never the right strategy. It only took me twenty years to figure that out.”
For some reason, that struck me as funny, and I cracked a smile.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing. It’s just…I thought I was slow.”
At that, my father smiled too. But his was sad. “Anyway, I waited another month to see you. Because I didn’t want your name to end up in the articles about my divorce. I didn’t want some reporter deciding that one thing had to do with the other. You don’t need that kind of bullshit attention.” He leaned back on Corey’s couch, crossing one foot over his knee. “And I haven’t told my kids about you yet, Adam. Because I’ve pasted them with so much of my other shit lately.”
And that’s when I snapped a little bit. It was probably the casual way he’d said my kids. The angry response just leaped out of my mouth. “Since I’m already used to being pasted with your shit, what’s the rush, right?”
First, my father looked startled. Then his sad grin came back. “That’s fair.”
But I shook my head. “No, it’s just…” I took a deep breath and let it out. “I didn’t ask you to meet me so that I could yell at you.” But even as I said it, I realized I didn’t have any idea what I expected. I’d always wanted a normal father, but when you’re twenty-one, maybe the expiration date for having one was long passed.
“Adam, it would be weird if you weren’t angry at me. I knew that when I drove up here.”
“You took me by surprise.”
“I know it. But some things just can’t be done on the phone.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I have three younger children. The boys — Ryan and Daniel — are eleven and nine, and my daughter Elsa is seven.”
Ryan. Daniel. Elsa. “That was the hardest part,” I blurted out.
“What was?”
“Having brothers who didn’t know I exist.” I’d seen them that time in Stacia’s neighborhood. I’d told Corey that I didn’t get a good look at them, and that was true. But it was burned into my brain, anyway. I could see one brother’s arm cocked over his head, and the other running across that perfect lawn to receive the pass. I’d never felt more like an outsider than I did right then.
“All right. I’ll tell them when I see them next weekend.”
I shook my head, because it occurred to me that I was being selfish. “You know, none of this is their fault. So don’t worry about it.”
My father leaned forward. “No, you were right the first time. Keeping secrets hasn’t worked out for me. I’ll tell them, and they’ll be surprised for about ten minutes. And after that, you’ll be like a rock star.” He smiled again, and it was one hundred percent genuine. I could see that just thinking about his kids lit him up. “Seriously. An older brother who plays hockey? You’ll have a rabid fan club. Be careful what you wish for.”
I rubbed my knee, thinking about how long it had been since I was on skates.
“You didn’t get to play this year?”
“Nope. I broke my leg in two places.”
“That must have sucked.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, it did. But I’m okay now. And I met a great girl.” It wasn’t lost on me that Corey and I might never have crossed paths if it weren’t for the injury. I might still be in the middle of the world’s most pathological relationship with Stacia.
My shit would not have been shoveled.
“We could go to a Rangers game, all of us,” my father said.