The Certainty of Violet & Luke(22)

I plan on telling him that I’m fine again. That I called him just to give him a heads up on what’s going on with my mother, but suddenly words are leaving my lips that I don’t mean to say. ‘I told Violet I love her.’ Fuck.

‘Oh.’ He’s silent, thinking about who the fuck knows. Probably that his son is still screwing up, something I’ve proved to him quite a few times with my drinking and gambling habit.

‘I told her right after she told me about mom,’ I say then add with a sarcastic laugh, ‘Perfect fucking time, right?’

He chuckles on the other end of the line ‘I told Trevor I loved him during his grandmother’s funeral.’

‘Well he married you so it must have worked.’ I aim for a light tone but suck at it big time.

He chuckles again. ‘I was just telling you so you’d know that when it happens it happens and sometimes we can’t help it when we fall in love. It just sort of blindsides us, you know.’

He’s completely right. When I first realized I was in love with Violet, it came out of nowhere. It was like one minute I liked her and wanted to help her and the next minute I loved her and would do anything for her. ‘I’ve known for a while.’ I free a trapped breath, deciding if I want to go down this road with him, where we talk about our feeling and personal shit. What the hell am I doing? This doesn’t sound like me at all. But am I really me anymore? My eyes wander to the rearview mirror, the person staring back at me isn’t me either. They look healthier. More stable. My eyes less glossy, skin less pale.

‘That you loved her?’ He carries on with caution

I squirm at the sound of the love. Unlike Violet, I did hear it a lot from my mother while growing up, but it always felt wrong when she said it … and the way she showed it. ‘Yeah … I’ve known for like a month and have been waiting for the perfect time to say it to her. But like I said, I fucked up on that one big time.’

A gap of silence passes.

‘What did Violet say after you told her?’ he asks.

‘Not much.’ It’s painful just remembering it, the endless silence that followed. ‘There was a fuck-load of awkward silence and then she said she needed to go down to the police station to see if she could identify mom as the person in the house that night.’

‘So where are you now? ‘

I pick at the crack in the steering wheel as I look over at the police station, noticing a guy standing beside a tree near the entryway, smoking a cigarette. I wouldn’t even have noticed him probably, but he’s staring directly at my truck. ‘Outside the station waiting for her.’ I lean forward trying to get a better look at the guy, but it’s too dark to see his face. For all I know, it could be Preston. But would he dare come to a police station?

My father grows quiet as I continue to stare the guy down and he looks as if he’s doing the same thing back. I think about getting out, start reaching for the handle, when he takes a drag of his cigarette, then flicks it on the ground and walks off toward the parking lot. I open the door to get out, but by the time I get my boots planted on the ground, he’s walked up to a Ford Taurus where a pregnant woman is waiting for him. He kisses her then opens the passenger door for her and the light from the lamppost in the parking lot hit his face. It’s not Preston, but it’s a realization of how worried and paranoid I am and how much I never relax.

I just want to be able to relax again. Not worry.

‘So Trevor and I were thinking about taking a trip out there soon.’ My father interrupts my thoughts and I look away from the guy and fix my attention on the night sky again. ‘Maybe we could fly out in a couple of weeks … help out with anything you guys need help with.’

‘I have football games on the weekends,’ I tell him, which is true, but I’m also not sure I want him to come out yet, not sure if I’m ready for that.

‘That could be fun,’ he says with a hint of excitement. ‘I’ve never seen you play before.’

I want to say that’s because you abandoned me, but I’ve been trying to work on that shit ever since I had to borrow money from him to bail me out of a gambling debt, which he won’t let me repay. And I don’t want to be the kind of son that uses his father for money.

‘I have to work on Sundays too,’ I say. ‘But if you’re okay with that then sure. Come out.’

‘Are you still working at that bar?’ he wonders with concern. I don’t blame him for worrying. Recovering drinker working at the bar. It’s not the ideal situation but I’m looking for something else that will work with my school schedule, games and practice. But still, the fact that he’s bringing it up is kind of annoying me.