Blakely
Frank Stewart looked good. Prison life suited him, I suppose. He had a few more tattoos, a few less pounds, and a ton more wrinkles. Bald and intimidating, Dad looked every bit the hardened criminal that he was.
I had my fingers wrapped around a hot coffee mug while I stared at him. I didn’t even know he was getting out, let alone driving all the way to Tennessee to see me.
I liked Dad. He’d made bad choices, but he wasn’t all bad.
“Thanks for meeting with me. I know it’s early, but my buddy got me a job at a shipping yard nearby, and I have to be there in two hours. I wanted to see you.” His voice was rough and sounded like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.
“Of course. I wish you would have told me you were coming sooner.”
“I wasn’t sure I could make it work. Had to coordinate with my parole officer. I figured you’ve had enough hope and disappointment to last you a lifetime.” I went silent, spinning my spoon in my cup. Unable to sleep, I’d spent all night tossing and turning; Dad’s call didn’t even wake me up. I was happy he was here, but I didn’t know what this meant for me—for us.
“You got out early,” I observed before smiling at him. “I’m proud of you. And you came here? Got a job? Found me, too.”
I reached out to grab his hand, squeezing a bit with sincerity. The world saw anger and a dark past when they looked in his eyes, but I saw a man that made one fatal mistake and had to pay ten years for it. I didn’t get to see him as often as I would have liked, but he wrote me emails and called when he could. We didn’t know much about one another, but we weren’t strangers either. We were just a couple of people bonded by blood and a mutual hatred for the woman that put him behind bars.
“I heard about Sharron. Sorry, kid. I’m sure that was hard for you to deal with on your own,” he murmured before shoveling eggs into his mouth. I knew there was no sadness in his words for Mama. His only grief was for what I had to go through. It made me feel better.
“I’m better now,” I replied.
“I see that. Living with your...brother? I didn’t even know that Sharron had another kid, but then again, I was in and out of her life. She was like a roach I couldn’t kill.”
“Is it possible he’s yours?” I asked. The thought hadn’t occurred to me. Lance had never asked who his father was, and it hadn’t come up in conversation.
“I didn’t meet your mom until three years before you were born. He seems like a good guy for taking you in, but no, he’s not mine. Probably for the best. I can barely take care of one kid.” His head bowed in shame, and I wanted to give him a big hug of reassurance.
“You’re here. We’ll figure out this whole father-daughter shit on the way. I’m stronger than I look, old man. I get that from you.”
“Stop, you’ll make me cry. And I’m not old. I’m refined, like good whiskey. I’m off the bottle, by the way. Guess prison helped get me clean, but I don’t touch the shit now that I’m out.”
“That’s awesome, Dad,” I replied with warmth.
“So tell me about you, and Lance, is it?”
“He lives near here, and I have a nice bedroom at his loft. It’s the first time I’ve felt safe in a while. It’s also nice to not worry about bills or chemo. I’m starting at this really cool magnet school for geniuses.”
“No shit? That’s awesome, kid. You were always too smart for your own good. There were days I wasn’t sure if you’d lead the country or a gang in prison.”
“Why not both?” I replied with a wink.
Dad tilted his head back and laughed so loud the entire diner turned to stare at us. “Well, let me know if you have science fairs or whatever it is geniuses do. I’ll come, okay? And if you need to leave Lance’s house for whatever reason, I don’t have much, but I do have a futon and some good opportunities on the horizon. I’m man enough to admit that you’d probably be happier with your brother, but the offer stands. Day or night, okay?”
“Okay, Dad.”
We continued to eat, joking and catching up while veering the conversation away from Mama or the time lost. I was really glad that Dad followed me out here. He seemed to have his life back on track. Maybe Lance would like to meet him.
The hour passed quickly, and too soon it was time to say goodbye. I paid the bill, purposely ignoring the brief flash of shame crossing Dad’s features. I knew there would be a day when he could pick up the tab, but I was happy to do it now. We both got up, and Dad wrapped me up in a giant hug, emotion bubbling up in his chest and flowing out through his gruff, choked words. “Thanks for seeing me, kid. I’m here for the long haul, okay? I appreciate the chance to be in your life. I don’t…” His words broke off, his emotions too strong. I watched as my badass, larger-than-life father wiped a stray tear from his eye before crashing me to his chest once again. “I don’t know what I did to deserve your forgiveness and kindness, but I’m so damn thankful. I won’t let you down again.”
I was just about to pull away and offer him a drive to work when a hard, unrelenting voice stopped me in my tracks.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Decker asked. Dad gripped me tighter before glowering at Lance and Decker. Pulling away, I turned to face the two, broody men. They looked like they’d just rolled out of bed. Lance’s eyes were wired as he looked at my dad, confusion and disappointment on his face.
“What am I doing? What are you doing here?” I asked before crossing my arms over my chest. Lance at least had the decency to seem confused by my change in direction, but Decker held still, looking at my father up and down like a predator.
“You disappeared at four in the morning. We thought you ran away or were abducted. You can’t just leave without letting us know,” Lance said, and I felt my father relax beside me.
My heart softened a bit, but the tender moment disappeared the moment Decker’s voice broke through. “Didn’t realize you were meeting a fuck buddy,” he growled. Dad squared up, fists flexed like he was about to land himself back in prison. I placed a hand on his chest before turning my attention back to Decker.
“Decker, meet my dad, Frank Stewart. Dad, meet asshole and my brother, Lance.”
Simultaneously, Lance relaxed and Decker paled, realizing his disgusting mistake. “Shit, I’m sorry, Blakely. We were just so worried. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Lance said in a cautionary tone, giving Decker the side-eye before walking forward and stretching his hand out for a handshake. He searched Dad’s expression like he was looking for something, and it confused me until my father responded.
“Nice to meet you, Lance. I’m not your father, by the way. Met Sharron three years before Blakely was born,” Dad replied lamely while shaking Lance’s hand.
“Oh, yes, of course,” Lance replied, a blush on his face. “Are you h-here to take Blakely?” I stared at my brother, completely and utterly shocked at the anxiety pouring from his pores. His eyes were wild, his head pelted with sweat.
“Nah. I’m still getting on my feet. Just got out of prison for killing a man.” My father gave Decker a pointed stare, likely trying to scare him.