Right, well, bullshit aside, I find the name that I was looking for and I press the screen to call him back.
“Hey, so we’re coming out of the relationship closet, huh?” Damian asks as he answers the phone.
“I’m sorry about that,” I tell him. “I said one stupid thing and then the DJ wouldn’t let go of it and the callers just made it worse. I really am sorry, I didn’t mean for it to go that way.”
“It had to happen sooner or later,” he says. “I bungled the fuck out of a scene today, and afterward, Tammy came up to me to inform me there’s a rumor going around about us.”
“Yeah, she told me about that too,” I say.
“Yeah, so all things considered, I guess it was inevitable. Still, it would have been nice if we’d actually gotten to make that decision ourselves, but I can think of worse things than being in a relationship with you,” he says.
There’s a knock on my door.
“I’m actually kind of surprised to hear that,” I tell him as I get up from my chair and walk toward the entryway. “This morning, it didn’t seem like you were open to any kind of discussion, much less a solid decision.”
“I guess I just needed a little push,” he says. “But you know about Danna and you know that there are going to be times when I’m going to have to be with her and help her and stuff, so really, we may as well have come out with this already.”
Okay, that’s a little irritating.
“I really wish we could have gotten this far this morning,” I tell him, and unlock the deadbolt. “If we’d come to some sort of understanding, Tammy’s gossip thing probably wouldn’t have been on my mind so much and I wouldn’t have been so irritated with the girl at the desk and… I would… Damian, I’m going to have to call you back,” I tell him, and hang up the phone.
“Want me to come over?” he asks. “You’re probably in for a shitstorm.”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I think you’re right about that.”
I’ve opened the door, and standing on the other side waiting for me to answer is the last person in the world that I want to see.
No, it’s not Ben.
It’s my father.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “I told you that I didn’t want to see you again.”
“Now is that any way to greet your old man,” he says, stinking of the same cheap whiskey he used to drink when I was growing up.
“You didn’t drive, did you?” I ask.
“No,” he says, “took a cab. People around here drive like they’re taking acid or promethazine or something.”
“Promethazine?” I ask. “I think that’s an allergy pill.”
“Whatever,” he says. “Whatever they’re on, they’re on something.”
“Well, that’s great and it’s been a lovely chat, but I think it’s time you got back on the road now,” I tell him. “You don’t want to run into traffic.”
I wouldn’t mind it if traffic were to run over him, but that wish doesn’t get answered.
I’ve tried.
“Listen,” he says, “I know you and I’ve had our bad times, and I know I had somethin’ to do with that, but I always taught you that family comes first, now didn’t I?”
“What do you want, Dad?” I ask.
“See, that’s the thing,” he says. “I’ve been doin’ real well at the factory lately—even got a promotion. Thing is, Jandi–” that would be the evil stepmother if we’re going to use such terms, “—needed this new car for work, and I didn’t know she was going to go for the shorter financing period and we just got into this new place and the mortgage payment’s been out of control, and well, things are gettin’ a little tight.”
“You came all the way out here to ask me for money because you and your wife can’t budget?” I ask. “Get the hell off my property,” I tell him.
“Look, now we ain’t always gonna have each other,” he says. “A dad and a daughter have a special kind of bond, and I want you to know that I’ve been seeing a therapist, and he’s really helped me see where I’ve gone wrong in the past—”