These days, it seems as if he's always here, networking and either buried in email, or nose-deep in a self-help book. He's throwing everything he's got into this campaign and he seems tired. The bags under his eyes give it away. He looks up at me, momentarily annoyed that I've broken his concentration.
"What is it?" he asks.
"I need to talk to you."
"Lance, can't this wait? I'm in the middle of an important project."
"What's new? You're always busy. The mockery of your entire campaign is that family has never come first for you. Please tell me that irony isn't lost on you?" I say.
"If you were planning on telling me how awful of a father I've been to you over the course of your life, spare me the sob story."
"Look, this can't wait. It's urgent."
The word 'urgent' catches him by surprise. I now have his full attention, so I take my hands out of my pockets and sit down, and I steady my nerves and continue, "I have a confession."
"Go on," Michael says slowly.
"It's about Jocelyn… and the baby."
I watch as Michael sits up in his chair, his body erect. The muscles around his mouth are rigid. His eyes look like broken glass and are hinting at violence, but I continue, "her—and I—we—" I'm stumbling, trying to find the right combination of words.
"You can't be serious," he says, cutting me off.
"I love her."
"You don't know the first thing about love," he growls. "You've dipped your dick into anything with two legs and tits. Who are you kidding?"
"You're one to talk—sitting in this house married to a woman you never loved. What kind of marriage is that? It's one of the greatest charades I've ever seen."
"You have no idea the sacrifices I've had to make. Not just for me. For this city. And for you."
I understand more than you think, and Jocelyn's pregnancy—well, that baby is mine, and I plan on being more of a father than you've ever been."
Michael slams his fist down on his desk, flashing his teeth at me. "You ungrateful little prick! I invite you into my house; I feed you, I give you a place to live, I give you work, I introduce you to my network—some of the most influential people in the world—even after you nearly cause WW III with the president's daughter, and this is the thanks I get? You have some real nerve."
"I didn't mean for any of this happen. I swear it on my mother's grave."
"Ha! You should watch what you say. Do you take me for a fool Lance?"
"No, I don't. You're too manipulative for a fool. Even I know that. Let's face it, we're all pawns in your master plans."
“You’re all too stupid to even be pawns,” he snarls at me. I can’t believe there are times when I alternate between thinking of him as Dad instead of just Michael. “You’re all a weight on my feet, dragging me down.”
“You’re the only weight on yourself, Dad,” I say, raising my voice. My blood is pumping. “Maybe if you were more open and honest people would help you more.”
Michael bows his head and rubs his hands against his temples. His body language changes, and he seems resigned. "It's a tough pill to swallow when the world isn't willing to accept you—perhaps can't accept you, or isn't ready to. Do you think it's easy to live a lie? To wake up every day and don a series of masks? No, of course you don't. You've never had an ounce of real responsibility and sacrifice in your life. You don't know the meaning of it."
"I do now," I say, and when it comes out of m
y mouth, I mean it. "I have a family to take care of."
"I may not have been in love with Jocelyn, but I was good to her. I hope you understand that. I tried. I really did, but then I met Kenneth, and with him, I slowly felt my masks come off."
He stops for a moment and looks pensive, like he's struggling to find the right words.
"There's something you should know about me."
"I think I already do."