Offside

Gardner came back out, and we ended up on a bench at the park across the street. Well, Gardner was on the bench. I just moved myself next to it. I could see the bookstore where Nicole was hanging out from where I sat, and I wondered if she even knew how long she had been in there.

“So, where do we go from here?” Gardner asked.

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “I’m kind of living in the moment right now, really.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” he replied. He turned toward me. “Can I help you in some way? I mean, do you still have insurance for rehab? I should be able to put you on my insurance though we might have to have a paternity test first. Did you want to have a paternity test? Fuck…I’m babbling…”

I chuckled into my hand, trying to pass it off as a cough. He was babbling. I was discovering that my biological father babbled a lot, and I realized it was something I did as well.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I really don’t know how to do this. I don’t have any…any other kids. I’ve never been married. I haven’t even been in a serious relationship for over a year. I do want to help you, though. I, um…I don’t have a lot of money, but I should be able to help out with the rehab bills, and—”

“No,” I cut him off. “Don’t.”

He looked over to m

e.

“I’m not trying to buy you,” he said. “I just want to make sure if you need anything, you know you can come to me. I wasn’t around before, and I really regret that now. I don’t make a lot of money by any means, but I’m comfortable enough. If I can help you, I will.”

“My inheritance is pretty big,” I admitted.

“Oh…yeah…” he babbled. “I guess that’s probably true, isn’t it? I mean, doctor and all. What about the house?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t really want to go back there.”

“Is that where he…um…”

“Yeah.”

“That makes sense, then.” His leg bounced up and down as he pulled out another cigarette. I wondered if he was always a chain smoker or if it was just because of me.

“Do I make you nervous?” I asked.

He let out a short laugh.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“’Cause of the chair?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’ve got a colleague in my building at the university who’s been in a wheelchair all her life. We used to share an office, so I’m kind of used to that.”

“What, then?”

“Um…guilt?” He gave me a lame half-smile, which he dropped pretty quickly. “I keep thinking about what I should have done. Starting with Fran, I should have at least made sure she made it back here okay. Maybe she would have told me if I had called her. Then I should have insisted on getting to know you, or at least…I dunno…maybe hired a private investigator to check on you…Shit like that just keeps popping into my head. You’re…you’re my kid, and someone was hurting you. It just…makes me feel sick. I should have done something, and I didn’t—hence the guilt.”

He flicked ash into the wind and sighed.

“With all of that, and you being so quiet, I’m trying to figure out just how much you hate me.”

“I don’t,” I told him. “I don’t hate you. I don’t…I don’t even know you. I’m just trying to figure all this shit out, you know?”

He nodded and finished his cigarette.

“You’re a pretty smart kid, aren’t you?” he said.

I only shrugged in response.

“So, um…” He coughed into his hand a couple times. He took a deep breath. “Do I, um, get a chance, then? I mean, with you? I’m not going to push—I swear I won’t—but I’d like to…to have something with you. Whatever you’re up for.”