Page 82 of Infinite

It’s not the insult I expect from Emer. What it is, is the slap across the face I never saw coming.

The slow shake of his head follows the reddening of his eyes. “You’re right about one thing,” he says. “Daddy didn’t want to love you. But he did.”

Emer stands, walking to the end of the porch and walking back again. This time, it’s me who’s quiet and watching him closely.

“You weren’t even two years old when you got really sick. Momma was up all kinds of hours, rocking you, trying to soothe you. Daddy was nowhere to be seen. I was just a little over five, but I remember looking for him and wonderin’ where he’d gone.”

I don’t move, worried that if I do, Emer will stop talking.

He doesn’t.

“I walked into his office and found him in the dark trying to sleep. He couldn’t, you know? All he could do was stare at the ceiling, listening to Momma pace above him, her soft voice trying to comfort you, and you crying like you were in pain. I watched him for a long while. Kept waiting on him to go up and check on you. It seemed odd for him to be hiding away like that, being as worried as he was and unable to sleep.”

“Did you ask him?” I question.

“No,” Emer replies. “Hell, even then, I didn’t like talking much. But all Daddy did was stare at that ceiling. He knew you weren’t his, Hale.” He releases a breath. “And it broke his Goddamn heart, because he wanted you to be.”

“You don’t know that,” I snap, my temper flaring. “That’s just an excuse, something a kid would tell himself to feel better about what he felt or saw.”

“Don’t tell me what I felt or what you think I did or didn’t see,” Emer fires back.

“I can and I will,” I grind out. “It’s the same thing I did as a kid, Emer. Every time Daddy ignored me, every time he hurried away, I tried to justify why he didn’t treat me the same, coming up with any reasonable excuse to explain his actions away. I didn’t want to think I wasn’t his or that I mattered less. But even then, I knew, Emer. I knew he didn’t want me. Except there I was, trying to convince myself that Momma’s excuses were true. That he was just busy.” I huff. “Busy for me, but not for the two of you.”

“All right,” Emer says. “You want more proof? How about everything he did show up for, you attention seeking whore? It wasn’t enough to be a football star. You were an academic scholar, too. You were a lifeguard and saved lives. When that wasn’t enough, you made All-American.”

“Are you listening to yourself? How much I had to do? How hard I had to work to get a speck of attention? I killed myself so he’d notice me, Emer. I did everything and more so he’d see and recognize that I was worthy. I couldn’t just be me. Not if I wanted his attention and love. I had to be better—”

“Than us?” Emer offers, cutting me off.

I don’t want to admit as much as I do. But I won’t lie. “Maybe,” I reply.

“There is no ‘maybe’,” Emer shoots back. “You were better and you always will be.”

I try to deny it, but Emer interrupts. “You couldn’t just take one honors course. You had to take all of them. A 4.0 was never enough. You had to exceed that and duke it out with Trinity Summers for class valedictorian. Sports? Why only be good at one? Let’s make you captain of the football team, captain of the basketball team.” He held out his arms. “While we’re at it, maybe you should co-captain the baseball team, too. All in one year. Splitting them apart would’ve been too much.”

“You don’t get it,” I say. “All the things I accomplished and worked my ass off for had to be done. It was the only way I could get Daddy to see me. Do you haveanyidea how many times he turned his back on me? How many times I wish he’d just talk to me. Two words, Emer. That’s about as much as he’d feel obliged to say to me for every twenty to forty he’d easily share with you or Carson. You had his attention. You had his love by simply breathing. By being his boys. I had toearn it.”

“And you did,” Emer adds, casually. “Not because you were the glory boy this entire town couldn’t get enough of, but because you were the son Dugan Myers had the balls to touch.”

That’s a name I hadn’t heard in almost twenty years. But it’s a name I remember well.

“You remember good ol’ Dugan Myers? Rich asshole, pseudo Christian, and mouthiest mother-fucker you’ll ever meet? Four daughters, four sons, all scared to death of him?”

Hell, anyone with any sense was scared to death of him. Dugan wasn’t just mean. He was crazy.

Emer laughs about as friendly as Carson did. “I remember him, too. Tonya Myers, his middle daughter and perfect princess, got knocked up. She couldn’t tell him the father was Blane Rogers. Not when Blane’s family barely had two nickels to their name and not when he worked at that shoe store. So, she up and told her daddy it was yours.” He scoffs. “She probably thought you were the only guy Dugan wouldn’t beat her ass for being with. She was wrong about that, wasn’t she?”

I don’t reply. I remember seeing Tonya not long after that sportin’ a black eye. Everyone knew her daddy had hit her. Just like they knew I’d never been with her. Everyone except Dugan.

“Daddy could’ve easily believed Tonya’s father and let him kick your ass when he showed up here. But he didn’t, Hale. Daddy jumped on top of him the moment Dugan struck you and ran him off this land.”

My eyes widen. Despite all the memories bouncing around in my head, this wasn’t one I’d thought about, not really.

“You think it was all about sports and academics? Do you really think our father was that heartless? Then you don’t know as much as you think you do and you sure as shit aren’t as smart as you thought. Daddy couldn’t fight worth a damn and you know it. But he did that day. He fought like a lion. He bled for you. And it wasn’t because you had won us the State championship a few days before. It was because someone had dared to put his hands on his boy.”

I don’t feel myself rise or ball my fists. But here I am, standing and staring at the porch we’d worked so hard to build. A breeze sweeps in from nowhere, scattering small leaves across the wood boards. The porch needs sanding and a fresh coat of stain. I see it when a tear falls and permeates into the wood.

Emer’s feet step into my line of sight. “I’m not saying Daddy didn’t try to keep from loving you. Regardless of what you think of me, I’m no liar. Hewasn’tsupposed to love you, Hale. You were the result of another man taking his wife. And, I think, if we’d known sooner, rather than later, about you, maybe we wouldn’t have loved you, either. But we did. All of us, even after we learned the truth about you.”