Chapter 1
Simon Diesel hadn’t seen his father in ten years, but he could remember almost everything about the last time he saw him. Down to the smallest detail. It had been a Tuesday night. One of those nights when he had flown in from California to see his parents. He and his father had ended up having a knock-down, drag-out fight right on the front porch. It was bad enough for Simon to swear he would never see his father again. Yet here he was. His old man. Darkening his doorstep.
“Dad?” Simon stared at his father. It had taken him a beat to recognize him. He didn’t know if it was because his father had changed so much over the years or because his memories had dulled so much he had to struggle to remember what he looked like. All these years later he could recall the fight so clearly, but had a hard time coming up with images of his father’s face.
Had he locked his past away that well? Had he really started to erase what his own father looked like?
“Are you going to invite me in, son?” His father seemed diminished somehow. Instead of the air of bullish arrogance, he was almost contrite. Shifting from one foot to the other he stood in the doorway, his blue eyes never quite meeting Simon’s.
Simon paused. Not sure how to answer the question. He had kept his past so far behind him that letting his father into his apartment was like letting him back into his life entirely. That made him uneasy. Especially with Heather here.
“Who is it, Simon?” Her voice cut through his thoughts as if she could hear him thinking about her.
“It’s...” His voice trailed off as he struggled to come up with the right words. The words that would give her a good enough explanation without giving away how he felt to his father.
His father looked at him expectantly.
She appeared by his side, her hazel eyes wide with surprise. “Oh. Mr. Diesel, is that you?”
“Please call me Onslow,” his father replied.
“Onslow. Of course.” She bit her lip and shot Simon a concerned glance.
An awkward silence fell. Simon didn’t usually give a damn about social graces, but he couldn’t deal with the silence when he had so many questions. The only way to get them answered was to relent, so he motioned for his father to enter the apartment. “Dad, please come in.”
His father stepped in, his worn shoes squeaking against the floor. “Thank you. I appreciate the welcome.”
Simon took his time shutting the door, needing a moment to get his racing thoughts together. Heather and Finn were over, and he had no idea how to navigate something this unexpected.
“Let’s get you to the living room,” he said, leading his father into the expansive living room of his apartment.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” his dad said, looking around in wide-eyed awe. “This place has got to be the fanciest place I’ve ever seen.”
A strange sense of pride rushed through his blood. It wasn’t the same pride he felt whenever Heather complimented him, but for a moment he was nineteen again. Nineteen and desperate for his father’s approval. Approval that had never come, but seemed to be on its way now.
Seeing his apartment through his father’s eyes gave him a sense of accomplishment he didn’t often allow himself to feel. The expansive open concept area was ultramodern, complete with navy blue and silver décor and furnishings. There was state-of-the-art tech everywhere, and right now the temperature was being regulated, the air purified, and the security was humming away in the background. With the security system up and running, even if his father had managed to get upstairs he could still be neutralized in seconds.
The modern luxury of his apartment was in stark contrast to his father’s rather run-down appearance. Suddenly Simon noticed how shabby his father’s clothes were. His father’s jacket looked threadbare. His jeans were faded, his boots were scuffed. The years had weathered his face and turned his hair grey.
Concern made his chest tighten. Things had ended badly with his father, but the thought of him falling on really hard times sent a twinge of guilt through him. Here he was, living with all this wealth while his father was probably struggling. Still, his sudden appearance was raising many questions that he wanted answered.
“How did you get up here?” he asked his father suddenly. There was no way he could have gotten past the concierge and the rest of the security without considerabl
e effort.
“I... might have fibbed to the guy at the front desk,” his father replied. “I said that I was the building’s super and that you were expecting me.” His father held up a keycard. “I might have swiped this from one of the mailboxes while he wasn’t looking. Figured it would make me look more convincing.”
“Why not just tell the concierge who you were?” Heather asked as she sat down on the plush navy-blue sofa.
“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get in if I said I was Simon’s father,” his dad replied. “I didn’t know what kind of welcome I’d receive, considering our history.”
Another pang of guilt. “Please, sit down, Dad,” Simon said as he took a seat beside Heather.
His father sank down into one of the armchairs and let out a sigh when he finally reclined in the chair. “This is a real nice place, Simon. Real nice.”
“Thank you,” he said stiffly, not knowing where to begin.
“I should check on Finn,” Heather said suddenly. “I’ll tell him we probably won’t be going for ice cream after all.”
“No, we’re still going,” Simon said firmly. “Just tell him we’ll be delayed a bit. Maybe he can watch TV in the guest room. And you can give him my tablet, Heather. Download some game apps for him if you like.”
He had promised Finn ice cream, and he was going to deliver. Right now, the poor kid was dealing with his own father abandoning him. A feeling that Simon knew all too well. With his father now here that feeling threatened to boil over, and though he had no idea what the fallout would be he vowed to never break a promise to Finn. He might not be the boy’s father, but he was going to step up and be there for him anyway.
“Thanks, I will.” She headed towards the guest room, leaving him alone with his father.
A tense silence fell. Worse than the previous one. Because this time, he didn’t have Heather to act as a buffer. Didn’t have a way of burying the sudden anger that was rising in him. Anger toward his father for being so eager to let their relationship fall apart.
“Finn? Have you got a kid or something, Simon?” his father asked.
He shook his head. “Finn is my girlfriend’s son. You remember Heather, don’t you?”
His father nodded. “Vaguely. I remember she was a nice girl. Nice to see you guys back together. Dating a single mom must be hard work. Not easy to raise a kid.”
“Not that you would know anything about that,” he blurted, too rattled to control his bitterness.
His father flinched. “I deserve that. I know I do. What a damn mess I’ve made of things.”
“You really weren’t around much when I was a kid,” Simon reminded him.
As if he needed reminding. For most of his childhood his father had been out of the house, working jobs as a fisherman, trucker, or doing whatever work he could get in a factory. On the rare occasions he was around, his father spent most of that time belittling Simon’s accomplishments and mocking his affinity for science and technology. Intellectual pursuits had always been a waste of time to his father and he had no problem letting Simon know it.
“Well, your mother had a way of keeping me away,” his father said bitterly. “She kept you from me. Every time she broke up with me she’d keep us apart. That woman made me stay somewhere else when I was back in town sometimes.”