“Your dad wants to see you,” his mom said, breaking the silence swirling in the room.
“My dad is dead, or have you drank too much and fucked too many men that you can’t remember him anymore?” He didn’t turn to look at her, but he landed a direct hit, judging from her swift intake of air.
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t.” His voice was dead and void of emotion.
“Your biological dad, not Jim.” She touched his shoulder lightly, trying to get his attention, but it only made the anger simmering inside him overflow. He wanted nothing to do with that bastard.
“Not interested,” he said, flipping through the channels, barely registering the pictures and commercials as they flipped on and off the small screen.
“I think you owe him a couple minutes of your time. He’s your father.”
“He’s the man you had an affair with, the man who ruined our family. He’s your dead husband’s brother and my inconvenient sperm donor. Beyond that, Brad doesn’t mean anything to me.” Alec stood up, his heart jackhammering against his chest as memories best forgotten rushed to the surface. He didn’t want to talk about his past, ever. There wasn’t any reason to. It was better relegated to the dustbins of history. “Is Brad the only reason you’re here? You want to plead his case? What the fuck has he ever done for us, for me?”
“He wants to change that,” she said hurriedly, wringing her chapped hands together.
“What’s in it for you?” There had to be something because his mom didn’t do things out the kindness of her heart—she didn’t have one. Her heart had shriveled up long ago. She had an affair with her husband’s brother and lied about it for ten years, and then she had the nerve to blame everything on her son. For eight fucking years, she reminded him how much better her life would be if he were never born, that she should have had an abortion when she had the chance. That Jim, the man he thought was his dad, would still be alive if she had aborted him. Not exactly the type of information that made a child feel warm and fuzzy.
His mom’s eyes bounced all over the room. She looked like shit. Her dark shiny hair that used to look like black silk was threaded liberally with gray. Her dark blue eyes, so like his and Taylor’s, were foggy and surrounded by heavy wrinkles. Time hadn’t been kind to her and he didn’t even feel a twinge of sympathy for her plight. The evil in her soul finally seeped out and destroyed all her superficial beauty. It was about time karma kicked her ass. She was only fifty, but she was the poster child for what fifty years of hard living looked like and it wasn’t pretty.
“I’m sick. I have cancer,” she blurted out.
“And…?” he prompted, not showing any hint of compassion. Sure, his stomach twisted a bit with that announcement. After all, she was his mother, but she had shoveled so much shit on him his entire childhood that he couldn’t say he would miss her or spend a single sleepless night cataloging the ‘what ifs’ in their relationship because there weren’t any. She was a pathetic excuse for a mother, and no matter what he did differently; it wouldn’t have altered her choices.
“I joined Alcoholics Anonymous because I can’t drink anymore. As part of the program, I need to make amends to people I’ve wronged.”
A dark, bitter laugh escaped his mouth. “Save your breath with me. I’m not interested.” And he wasn’t. Nothing she could do or say would change what she put Taylor and him through. Now that her mortality was shoved in her face, she wanted to say sorry. Fuck that. She was a decade or two late for that shit.
“I owe Brad, too.”
“That sounds great. Go seek your forgiveness from Brad because you aren’t going to find it with me.” He walked toward the door, his eyebrows lifted in disdain. “Are we done?”
“No.” Her lips thinned into a straight line. “I need your help and I’m not leaving until you agree to give it to me.”
“In that case, I hope you enjoy the couch, because you’ll be here a long time.” Alec raked his hands through his hair. “Or I could call the police and have you removed.”
Her eyes narrowed and he could see fire raging behind her eyes. “Why are you such a bastard?”
“I can’t help it. You spread your legs and fucked your brother-in-law and I’m the result. By definition that makes me a bastard. What can I say? I’m acting accordingly.” Her hands fisted next to her legs. Based on her past behavior, it’d only be few seconds before she had a full-blown tantrum. He’d seen enough of those in his life. He didn’t need to witness another. He opened the door. “Leave.”