“You okay, Oliver?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Gathering myself stand, I step out into the hallway.
“It’s okay to miss him, and to continue to deal with this loss the best way you can. There’s no shame in that, and no one expects you to simply bounce back. We’re here for you to lean on.” He squeezes my shoulder, and I fall against his chest and hug him tight.
“I miss him so much, Dad.”
“I know you do, son.”
“I want to know that he’s okay, and at peace. It haunts me. I brought this trouble onto my family. I was cocky and ignorant. Quinn expressed her concern and I waved it off. Knowing all I had to do was listen to her, and this might’ve been avoided is what gets me the most.” My voice cracks.
He cups the back of my head, and I’m taken back to being a small boy—when my parents’ wisdom and very presence made me feel like everything would be okay. “You can’t live your life wondering what would’ve happened. You can’t turn back time. That’s a lesson I learned the hard way. I went through life hating myself for the mistakes I made. It ate me from the inside out and soured my relationship with others. It’s a slow-moving poison that’ll ruin everything you touch. I refuse to sit here and let you make my mistakes. You got a good woman, a job you love, and family and friends that are here to support you. Take advantage of that. I also think you should see a counselor. This is too big for you on your own.”
“Why do I deserve absolution?” I jerk away from him. “I should be tormented for the rest of my life.”
“No, son, and hearing you say that aloud, should be a sign to us both how much you need healing. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and so were Quinn and Roland. No one left this situation unscathed.”
“But why him, Dad? Why my boy?”
He shakes his head, and his eyes shine in the light. “That I can’t answer. I wish I could. No one knows that.”
I dash at my eyes and sniff.
“Better?” he asks.
“A little.”
“Let’s get you some beer. Water isn’t going to do it this time.” His no-nonsense statement makes me laugh. I’m amazed at how close we’ve become. A few months ago he wouldn’t have crossed my mind as a person to call if I was having trouble. I follow him to the fridge and accept the pale ale he pops the top off. “I meant what I said about Quinn. You don’t expect her to stay on without a serious conversation and a deeper commitment.”
“We were talking about it being our goal one day before ... before Rolly was killed.”
“Have you talked about it since?” he asks.
“No, we haven’t exactly had an abundance of alone time.”
“What are you planning on doing next?”
“Getting the house fixed up and selling it. I can’t live there, and I won’t force Quinn to either.”
“She’s coming with you then?” He leans against the counter.
“Absolutely. That much we spoke about.”
“Are you thinking about a home or an apartment?”
“I’m not sure. We need to have that talk. I think more than anything we wanted to check in and let you guys see we were okay.”
“I’m glad you did. We were worried. There were too many close calls.”
“Yeah, there were,” I agree.
“We should rejoin the others before they send a search party.”
As we walk out, I ponder my father’s words. Maybe seeing a shrink wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“HOW WAS YOUR NIGHT with your family?” I ask as I roll onto my side.