Page 33 of Heart Like Yours
“Better than sex?”
My face is no doubt crimson red once again. “Yeah. You’ll find out in a few minutes. Kenny makes the best food in town.”
Garrett hums his acknowledgment, but instead of commenting now, he changes the subject.
“What’s your favorite memory from growing up here?” he asks, giving me his full and undivided attention.
I smile, diving into a couple different stories of my favorite café in town, of hanging out with the Garcia sisters at their father’s auto shop and pointing out all the cute boys. While there wasn’t a lot to do here, we always managed to find ways to have fun. Sometimes that meant hanging out at the lake across town. Other times it was chilling at Lilly’s house and binge-watching our favorite shows that made her brothers tease us endlessly. And yet, instead of leaving, they always somehow ended up watching them with us.
We’re both halfway through our burgers, laughing at my cringy teenage stories, when a familiar voice slurs my name. It feels as if ice is injected into my veins and I can’t stop the flinch when the scent of stale alcohol invades my nostrils. The potato salad I had been enjoying turns sour in my stomach and I stiffly set my fork on my plate before turning to the voice.
“Dad.” The word feels foreign on my tongue, which is oddly fitting considering the fact that the man himself is equally so.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he hiccups. “Couldn’t even let your own father know you were in town.”
“I was going to come by and see you once I checked into the hotel.”
“Sure…” He pauses to burp. “Why bother? From the looks of the suit across from you”—he hiccups again—“you don’t need anything from me.”
I rub at my forehead, shielding myself from Garrett’s assessing gaze, and try to placate my father. This was something I had wanted to hide from Garrett, not give him a front row seat to my family shit show.
“I don’t need anything,” I assure him. “I was just going to see how you are doing.”
Isn’t that what normal families are supposed to do at least?
Before he can respond, Jenna pops up beside him.
“Hey, Rob, were you heading out? I can close out your tab if you were.”
She keeps a safe distance while trying to coral him away from us. However, the way she stands her ground and something about her forced smile tells me this isn’t the first time she’s had to deal with my dad drunk.
To no surprise at all, he motions to my plate in front of me with a laugh that turns into a cough.
“I didn’t think you could eat that much.”
“That’s because you never paid attention or helped feed me.”
No, the little bit of money he did make always went to booze.
His eyes narrow and he sways on his feet but somehow remains standing. “Well, you used to complain about the girls in school making fun of your weight. I was just helping your diet.”
My jaw drops at his words. Over the years, I always assumed he was just too drunk to notice my eating habits or just hellbent on spending his money on liquor. So learning that he knew what I was doing and didn’t do anything to help or stop me burns like salt in a wound.
“Diet, Dad? I was starving myself.” My voice sounds small even to my own ears and my blood pounds so heavily I almost don’t catch his next words.
He shrugs, the movement over exaggerated and causing him to stumble. “You’re stronger because of it.”
I blink. Then blink once more as I stare up at the man I haven’t known in years.
There are still very muddled memories of him playing with me and Mom, of the three of us spending summer days at the lake or him taking me out for ice cream. However, the good no longer outweighs his bad.
Squaring my shoulders, I pull the napkin off my lap and meet his glossy eyes. There’s a good chance he doesn’t remember any of this conversation, but I’ve done all I can. I came here, went out of my way to check up on him when he hasn’t even acknowledged me in six years.
“I’m not stronger because of it.” I push my chair out and stand, causing him to stumble back a step. “I’m stronger in spite of everything. But my strength had a price. One that no one should have to pay. It’s not a strength that I starved myself, that I now have an unhealthy relationship with food and suffer the consequences of my past eating habits. It’s not strength to survive despite the fact that the man who raised me turned a blind eye to me. You’re my father. You were supposed to lookout for me more than anyone else. Yet no one, aside from Lilly, batted an eye when I skipped a meal.”
The laugh that slips from my lips sounds hysterical. I know Garrett and Jenna are both watching on, the former standing from his own seat as if he plans to step between us, but I can’t stop myself.
“Little did I know you weren’t reacting because you thought it was ‘good’ that I was sick.”