“I never noticed,” Trevor admitted.
“That’s because he doesn’t get falling-down drunk. Doesn’t look that drunk at all, which is actually a bad sign. He’s a functioning alcoholic, but an alcoholic all the same. Wouldn’t admit it. Your grandmother scoffs at the idea, too.”
“So…you think you might’ve been an alcoholic, too?”
“You mean, I inherited the tendency?” He frowned. “I didn’t think about it that way. All I knew was, I might have to—” I might have to give up going to college and work side by side with my father, but I didn’t want to be any more like him than I could help. That wasn’t even fair, he knew. His father had been faithful to his wife, he hadn’t abused her or their kids, he’d been a good provider. He wasn’t that bad. “I wanted different for you and Bree,” was the best Richard could sum it up.
“Like, me not getting a girl pregnant my senior year of high school?” Bitterness dark in his eyes, Trevor looked at his father.
“That, too,” Richard admitted honestly.
He let Trevor go for the pizza. Waiting, he felt sad and exhilarated both, a crazy mismatch of emotions. This was the first time they’d really talked since… Hell, he thought it was a phone conversation they’d had back in July. Somehow they hadn’t connected in August before Alexa contacted him. He’d figured that Trevor was busy with his job and friends, but in retrospect he realized that was the beginning.
Do I dare ask him outright?
No, he decided. One problem at a time.
Trevor set the pizza in the middle of the table and they each dished up a slice.
“What would you have said to Caitlyn today?”
“She goes by Cait.”
“Okay.”
Trevor set his slice down. “I guess I’d have said I was sorry for being such a…” He swallowed whatever word he’d been about to use and said “jerk” instead.
“You mean last night?”
“And before, too,” Trev mumbled, head bent.
There was a lot Richard wanted to say or ask, but he only waited.
“When Mom got pregnant…um…” His cheeks had reddened. “Didn’t you use a condom?”
“She was on birth control pills.”
His head jerked up. “Then how…?”
Truthful answer: I don’t know. Or, worse, I think I do know. What he said was, “They can fail, too. No method is a hundred percent. She might’ve forgotten to take a pill or two, or if a woman is on some medications they can interfere with how a hormonal contraceptive works.”
Trevor sat staring at him and Richard absolutely could not tell what he was thinking. “So you didn’t do something stupid like I did,” he said at last.
He’d trusted Alexa. That was stupid. Maybe. He never knew, not really, only suspected. He hadn’t asked or accused, because that might have made building a life together impossible, and by then they had an unborn child to think about.
“I guess not. Things happen.”
“I don’t want it to have happened,” Trevor said, barely whispering. “I want her to get an abortion.”
“I don’t blame you.” Richard was hurting, too.
“So why does she get to decide?” Trev’s eyes were suddenly hot with rage and his voice trembled.
“You should be involved in the decision. But reality is, this is her body. What if you were trying to insist she have the baby and keep it? Would that be right for you to force that choice on her?”
“I wouldn’t!”
“Are she and her mother churchgoers? Abortion might be a choice that would be morally repugnant to them.”
“Wow.” Elbows planted on the table, Trev buried his head in his hands. He was rocking, Richard saw, and yanking at his hair so hard it had to be painful. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up.”
Richard felt compassion, sure, but this was one of those moments he realized how mad he was, too. No condom. God help them all.
“I don’t know if they go to church,” his smart/stupid kid mumbled. “How should I know?”
How should I know? He’d gotten the girl pregnant, and he didn’t know whether she believed in God. Oh, face it; what boy his age would care? All that mattered was would she or wouldn’t she.
That probably wasn’t any fairer to Trevor, Richard realized, than his earlier thoughts had been to his father. So what. I don’t have to be fair. Serenity wasn’t a by-product of parenthood. More like an antonym.
“Let’s take the rest of the pizza home,” Richard decided, and went to get a box.
CHAPTER SIX