Under the Stars and Stripes (Under Him)

“Happy may not even be a strong enough word to describe what I am these days,” I tell her.

Simon and I invited the two of them — the other of the two being Tony, of course — to spend this Covid-stained Independence Day with us at Simon’s house, which has since become Simon’s and my house.

We only thought it fitting since very little celebrating will be happening anywhere else. The guys have gone to grab pizza for dinner and we’re awaiting their return.

“You think that some people will still do fireworks?” she asks me.

“God, I hope so,” I tell her. “I can’t imagine not seeing fireworks. Especially not with a view like this.”

“So much has changed…” she trails off.

“Yeah, but it’ll all be better soon,” I tell her. “I mean, a pandemic can’t last that long, can it?”

“I think that’s what they said back in December… and in March… and in April, come to think of it. But that’s not what I meant.

“Oh?”

“I meant in our own lives. A lot has changed for you and me. Just think about how vastly different our lives are today than they were the day the diner closed, and I got laid off. Who could’ve guessed that a pandemic would have so many positive effects on us?”

I sip a glass of wine I’ve been keeping in the float’s cup holder.

“I know. I mean, it does suck, of course, for so many people. But we just kind of lucked out.”

“More than lucked out,” she says, “A lot of people got the leeches, and we just got the surprisingly beneficial leech facial. Weirdest beauty treatment ever.”

“Hands down,” I agree.

“Brittany?” a voice interrupts our introspective nonsense from the side of the yard.

It has startled both of us right off our floats and I fly into high gear trying to save my wine.

“Who is that?” Sarah asks, trying to scoop hers back into the glass after it’s spilled out and is starting to look like an exploded eggplant in the pool water.

Around the corner through the gate, my dad approaches the pool.

He sees us there and we both fly backward.

“Omigod. Are we not past this?” I ask. “Dad, you need to go! Tony and Simon will be back any minute and I wouldn’t be here when they return, if I were you.”

“Brittany, listen, I’m not here to fight.”

“Well, then what are you here to do? Because the only other thing I know you to be good at is drinking and I’m not letting you bust into Simon’s expensive ass liquor.”

“No, no, I… well, I actually quit drinking.”

I’m speechless.

Maybe for the first time since the night he slapped me.

And for a very different reason this time.

“I wanted to come back and ask your forgiveness. I know it’s probably too late, but I was miserable that night I left here: I don’t want to lose my only child and especially not over how horribly I’ve treated you. I already lost your mother for the same reason. I can’t make that mistake twice, it will kill me, and there won’t even be anyone left to give me a funeral.”

“Dad… I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, I’ll finish apologizing so you have more time to think of something,” he says.

Only, as he opens his mouth, the back door opens and both Simon and Tony walk through, and I can see that they’re prepared to attack.

“Don’t!” I tell them. “He wants to make amends. He’s apologizing.”

“Really?” Simon asks. “Why on earth should anyone believe that?”

“I can’t expect you to believe me, but I did quit drinking and since I stopped, I’ve gotten some perspective on what matters,” my dad tells me. “And having my daughter in my life and grandchildren someday to visit me when I’m old… that’s what matters to me.”

“Pfft…” I hear from Tony. “Happy Co-Dependence Day, Barry Berry.”

We all roll our eyes, but Sarah and I at least get out of the pool now, as I get the feeling he’s being serious. The one thing about my dad is that I never had to wonder if he was lying to me when he told me how he felt, because he only ever behaved one way toward me, and it was not kindly.

When I say that this is a side of my father that I’ve never seen before, it may not even be an accurate statement.

This is more like meeting my biological father from whom I was taken at birth by some evil look-alike who never loved me the way a father could.

“I’m sorry that I was so controlling,” he says, as he turns from me to Simon. “And I’m sorry to you, too. I didn’t give you a fair chance, nor did I respect your business. And in truth, it wasn’t my place to be giving anyone chances. I’m the one who should be begging for a second chance, and I am. I hope you’ll forgive me, because I’ve seen your work and I’m very impressed. Not to mention that from what I’ve heard from the other agencies about you and your partner, you’re pretty good guys, too.”