The Good Father
Page 98
“And a good husband.”
“As good as he could be.”
“What does that mean? Are you telling me he hit you when I was little? How could I not have known that?”
“No, son. He didn’t. But he’d fly into rages. Say horrible things. Call me names. Threaten to leave me. He told me once that he understood his father’s need to hit something.”
“I never heard any of it.”
“Because I learned his triggers. Learned how to manage them.”
“Manage them?”
“I’d get you kids out of the house. Or I’d leave a room, and he’d follow me.”
“This was before Livia got sick? Why’d you stay with him, then?”
“A lot of reasons. I loved him, for one. I understood that he was only spewing what had been spewed at him. I knew he didn’t mean any of it. He’d scream obscenities, accusing me of all kinds of horrible things, and I’d hear the translation, you know, it would go something like, ‘Help, I’m feeling in over my head here. I’m afraid I’m not good enough for you. As smart as you. I’m bad and you’re going to leave me. I need to know you love me.’ He also acknowledged afterward that he’d been wrong. He’d beg me to forgive him and promised that he’d learn to keep his mouth closed when he started to feel like he was losing control.”
He’d never known. “How could a kid live in a house with that going on and not know?”
“It didn’t happen often.”
“And the rest of the time?”
“He was just as you remember. A great father. A good provider. And for the most part, my best friend.”
“So what are my chances?” Might as well just put the problem right out on the table.
“They are what you make them, Brett.”
“You told me to let her go.”
“Because you weren’t going to marry her.”
“Do you think I should?”
“Only you can know that.”
“What would make you proud of me?” What the hell? Where had that come from?
“Ah, Brett. You are above and beyond anything I could have ever hoped to produce. It goes way beyond pride, son. You make me a better person just by getting up in the morning and taking the next breath. I can’t tell you what to do because I don’t know the answer. But there’s one thing I do know.”
“What’s that?”
“Whatever choice you make, you’ll make it for the right reasons.”
“I love you, Ma.”
“I love you, too, son.”
“Will you call again?”
“I don’t know. Probably not.”
He’d known her answer before she gave it.
There were some things that would never change.