I swipe at my eyes, furious that my father can still evoke such deep emotions in me.
“For your father, I believe a lot of this stems from wanting control. It’s not an excuse, but maybe knowing his history can put his actions more into perspective.”
“But what about you? If he’s trying to control us, he’s probably doing it evenmore to you.”
My mother gives a little huff of laughter. “You were always the most perceptive one,” she says. “But never mind that. It’s too late to do anything about it.”
“It’s never too late.” Like she said, my heart is leading—always. And I only want to protect her.
“That’s kind of you, but there’s no need to worry about me. I’m just simply pleased to know that you’re doing well on your own.”
“Okay, but if you change your mind, let me know. I’d help you.”
“I know you would.” My mother’s voice softens in a way I’m unused to.
“Oh, before I forget,” I say, clearing the emotion that has clogged my throat. “I can send back the money that should have gone towards my med school tuition.”
“Keep it,” my mother says. “Your father shouldn’t have cut you off anyway.”
After hesitating a moment, I decide to just drop the subject. If my mom says to hold onto the money, I’ll take her at her word. But I refuse to spend it on myself; the money is tainted for me. I’ll just let it sit in the bank until I figure out where to donate it.
“I love you, Mom.”
I don’t remember the last time I called her “Mom” or told her I loved her. It’s probably been… years.
A long pause, and then, “I love you too, Jacob.”
After we hang up, I wonder if I should have tried harder over the years to connect with my mom. She was there for me, in her own way.
Which reminds me of what Sam said about my family. She could have been more understanding, but maybe she wasn’t completely wrong either. At least not where my mom is concerned.
My dad is a completely different story. I don’t think he’s capable of “real connection” unless it happens on his terms—because despite what Sam says, relationships are a two-way street.
I can’t force the man to accept me for who I am. Maybe it’s his past self that he’s unable to accept. Still, the end result is the same.
But maybe my relationship with my mom is salvageable.
The next day, I’m off of work, so I attempt to fill the hours with tasks that I’ve been slacking on. After putting away my groceries and grabbing a quick dinner in my apartment, l decide to head to Tunes and Tonic—TNT as old-timers affectionately call it.
TNT is a place I’ve always felt safe—a spot where people like and respect me and the shadows of my past don’t haunt me. After that conversation with my mom, it would be nice to feel more settled.
Maybe I can chat with my friend Luke Barrett if he’s there. He might even have some tips about this fake dating situation I’ve gotten myself into—he certainly has more experience than I do in the dating department.
Luke and I became friends at Blackwell University after living in the same freshman dorm. While I grew up in Blackwell, Luke is a transplant from Connecticut. During college, Luke would frequently stop by TNT to see me play and bring his date ofthe week with him. After graduating, he joined the staff at TNT as a barback and transitioned quickly into the role of a part-time bartender. Flash forward to now: Luke’s here even more than I am—he just quit his job as a financial analyst a few months ago and is working full-time as the TNT bar manager and attending Blackwell Business School at night.
He’s a busy man.
When I arrive at TNT, I’m greeted by Eddie Hawkins, the bouncer. He was a really amazing football player in his day, and I’m pretty sure he would have been one of the greats if not for a devastating quadriceps injury that ended his career early. But he’s the happiest guy you’ll ever meet, and it always lifts my spirits to see him when I come in for my shifts.
“Hey, man!” Eddie crows as he gives me our standard complicated handshake that’s filled with slaps and fist bumps. “It’s been a while!”
“I’ve been busy at my new job in the ER,” I say, grinning. The relief from seeing a friendly face is more balm to my soul than I’d like to admit. I didn’t realize how tense I was until I opened the door to TNT. “But now things are finally settling down.”
“That’s awesome, man.” Eddie wipes at the sweat already dotting his dark brow with a white handkerchief. “It hasn’t been the same without you here.”
“I’ve missed you guys. I’m not officially here tonight, but I’m back next week.” I have my pick of Friday and Saturday night shifts, which are by far the most lucrative. Plus, I admit that performing for a screaming crowd is an endorphin rush.
“Well, it'll be great to have you back.”
