I point to Mom and then back to Roland. “She was supposed to be the one who sent it. Her moment of grace, or whatever, that completely changed your life around without her ever knowing it. That, that moment was the one …”
“Honey,” Mom enters. “What?”
I take a long look at Roland before sharing a very personal piece of his story. Because now it’s part of mine.
“He’d been drunk for years,” I start with the nitty-gritty. “In and out of his parents’ house and all of that. Then one day when he was at the bottom of the whiskey barrel that picture,” I point for effect, “came in the mail. It was the first time he’d ever seen me.” My voice tightens and tears sting my eyes.
“He saw me. He saw him in me,” I whisper, backing toward the door. I’ve been cooped up in this life for several days too long. “It saved him, Mom. And I thought that you’d done that. I thought for a moment you wanted him to be in my life somehow. That for just a brief moment in your life you had wanted to give him a second chance.”
Mom’s eyes light with fire. She walks toward me, ignoring Roland, it seems. “He’s the one who didn’t want one chance, Kennedy. Never mind a second chance. He didn’t want you!” She snaps, her eyes widening as she seems to instantly regret the words.
“But he did!” I snap. “He called you when I was eight. I remember it like it was yesterday. He got the picture and he wanted me and you wouldn’t let him in.”
Roland walks toward the both of us, exhaling with a puff of his cheeks. “Okay, let’s just all take a seat, okay? I’m sure we can talk through this without screaming at each other.”
“Roland,” Mom lowers her voice significantly, “I’m sorry for what I said just now. But you have to understand how hard this is for me.”
He nods, tilting his head to the side. “I do, Wendy. I do.”
“Of course he does,” I spit out. “Because he was the one refused access to my life for almost fifteen years.”
“Kennedy,” Roland’s clipped tone catches my breath. I’ve never heard anything but congeniality from his lips. “That’s enough. Come and sit. Let’s talk about all of this.”
I shake my head. “I need a break. I’m going downtown.”
Roland starts to speak, but I hold up my hand.
“And, no, I don’t care about the rules. Write the demerits yourself if you must, but I need a damn minute.”
With that, I swing the door open. Roland calls after me once my feet hit the stairs, but in a softer voice, I hear Mom sigh.
“Just let her go, Roland. Sometimes you have to let her go.”
***
“All that just happened?” Asher leans back in his desk chair, rubbing a hand over his face.
I shrug. “I don’t do anything half-a—” I cut myself off with a growl, leaning my forehead on his desk.
I basically ran the two miles downtown to the back parking lot of Word, where I banged on the door until Asher answered. I knew he would be in his office; he always does inventory on Sundays. I had half the story of this morning’s post-service drama out of my mouth before we even sat down.
“Thanks for coming, by the way,” I mumble with my head still down, my mouth half an inch from the top of his desk.
“Why’d you ask me to come? I mean, thanks, but why did you want me there?”
“Because you’re normal. I needed normal.” I lift my head and lean back, finding Asher studying me curiously as he usually does. “Why do you look at me like that?”
He grins. “I find you fascinating.”
“Yeah, I’m a treasure,” I deadpan. “Can I please assume that you’ve used the magic of the Internet to fill yourself in on the last few days of my life?”
He laughs and leans forward on his elbows. “You can. And, that’s why I find you fascinating.”
“Why? Just because you didn’t know I was Roland’s daughter? That’s not fascinating so much as a number plucked out of the genetic lottery. Luck for some, I guess.”
“Not for you?”
“Seriously? Oh, yeah, the last few days have been the pinnacle of good fortune.”
It feels so good to be sarcastic with someone who I know without a doubt will get it.
“Alright, I’ll give you that one. Still, I just wish you woulda told me.” He shakes his head, looking down.
“Why? That’s the second time you’ve said that. Is it because you would have avoided hiring me?”
Asher huffs through his nose. “Hardly, but I could have helped you.” He stares at me for a while, and I stare back, trying to read his mind.
“You would have told me to come out with it myself,” I assert.
“Don’t you agree that would have been better than this?”
I growl again. “I don’t even know. What I do know is my mom wasn’t the one who changed the course of Roland’s life, it was Dan.”
“Neither,” Asher cuts it.
“Excuse me?”
“Neither of them changed the course of Roland’s life. God did.”
I pull my head back. “Wh…What…Yeah, okay, but the catalyst—and, wait…why are you feeding me God talk?” I let my eyes roam his large, muscular figure decorated in tattoos to remind myself of every impression I have of him that he’s probably about to blow out of the water.
Kind of a theme in my life lately.
“I’m a Christian, too, Kennedy,” he says as if he’s bored.