I nodded at him. “Father.”
“I see nothing’s changed. Still wasting your life chasing a dream.”
I shook my head in disagreement. “A lot has changed. You can’t be bothered to see it, and frankly, I don’t feel like sharing. How did you find me?”
“The postmark on one of the letters you sent. It wasn’t hard.”
“Why are you here?”
“I am done being patient. It is time for you to return to Vancouver.”
I gaped at him. “You can’t show up here and order me around like an errant little boy. I am not returning to Vancouver. This is my home.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I think you’re the ridiculous one here. You arrive and demand I leave? You have no right.”
“I’m your father. Your blood.”
I clutched the back of my neck, feeling my tension ramping up. “Yes, you are my father. But you threw away any chance of that meaning something when you chose to ignore me for the past months. Just like you ignored me my whole life.” I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze. “Family is more than blood. It’s caring, love, and support.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “My family is here. If you can be civil, you are welcome to join us for a drink.”
“I will not sit down at a table with those people.”
“Then you can leave.”
“You would choose them over me?”
I barked out a laugh. “You chose work over me. Strangers meant more to you than I ever did. You ignored me for years and belittled everything I loved. Your opinions and feelings no longer matter.”
He slid off his chair and stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. “You owe me a great deal of money. You are coming with me and working it off.”
For the first time, I noticed his speech. It wasn’t as smooth as usual. As he came closer, I realized he had been drinking. I always hated it when he drank. He was never a violent person, but after he had a few drinks in him, his tongue became exceptionally sharp. I needed him to say what he had to say and leave before he caused a scene.
“I’m not going anywhere. I asked you to tell me what I owed in my letters, which, obviously, you didn’t bother to read. Tell me how much, and I will repay you as quickly as I can.” I knew he wanted to be reimbursed for the plane fare and the money he’d sent me. I wondered what else he wanted returned.
“I want it now.”
“I don’t have it.” I hadn’t received the advance in my contract yet, but it was coming.
“You never will.”
“Yes, I will.” I had no desire to share with him why I could repay him. He would only mock it, and I refused to allow him to do so.
“We’ll figure it out together.” Maggie appeared in front of me. She reached behind, grasping my hand. “I don’t like the tone you’re speaking to my fiancé with. I would like you to leave.”
“Fiancé, now? What a loser. Frankly, you stupid girl, I don’t care what you say. He is coming with me, and he can work off his debt. Once he’s done, let’s see how fast you take him back.”
She crossed her arms, pissed. “I will always take him back, but he isn’t going anywhere! Certainly not with the likes of you. Who do you think you are, coming in here and making demands? You haven’t spoken to your son in months or returned his messages. You upset him terribly,” she insisted, her words coming out fast. “You should be ashamed of yourself. All he wants is your approval and your love. He deserves that. Sperm doesn’t make you a father. It’s your actions that do.” She was so angry, I was certain she was about to stomp her foot. “He is a good man. Kind. Loving. Talented. You should be proud.” She shook her head in frustration, her hands curled into fists. “You blind, mean…jackass!” she hurled at him.
My father stared at her, not paying any attention to her heartfelt words. He reached past Maggie to seize my arm. With a gasp, she grabbed his hand, stopping him. His temper erupted, and he pushed her to the side, causing her to stumble. She hit the table behind her, her arms flailing. Patrick and I grasped for her before she hit the floor, both of us livid.
“You bastard!” I yelled, wrapping her close. All hell broke loose. Chris had my father in a headlock, and Patrick was standing in front of Maggie and me protectively. Finn cleared the bar in a huge jump, grabbing his phone, ready to call the police. The entire place watched as my father glared at us but didn’t make another move.
“Let him go, Chris,” Patrick spoke up, his voice stern. He directed his anger at my father. “You make one more move toward either of them, you’ll be sorry.”