Johnny stood in the midst of this blank canvas looking like the rock star he was. Lithe and confident, and…free. He had no baggage. No responsibility to anyone outside of his band. I had to admit, I felt a twinge of jealousy. I could hardly remember what it was like to be entitled to embrace my convictions without weighing heavy consequence. It was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
Johnny could. And it was ridiculous to ask him not to go on a date with anyone…even Clay. However, that was why I was here.
I cleared my throat as I turned to face him. “I’m asking you to cancel your date with Clay.”
The second the words left my mouth, I heard how foolish and audacious I sounded. Judging by the startled look on his face, Johnny did too.
He stared at me for a moment, then cocked his head. “Let me get this straight. You came by with pizza using the concerned dad ploy to save a business deal?”
“It’s not a matter of saving a deal. I just want to be sure nothing is compromised.”
He furrowed his brow and let out a humorless huff. “This was what you were up to all along, huh? You used your kid to soften me up and lure me to complacency…for a buck.”
“No, that’s not true. I didn’t use anyone. I’m stating a concern and making a request.”
“I see. I’m surprised you didn’t wait till we fucked to make demands,” he continued calmly. “I’m assuming that’s where this was going. What happened? Did your conscience come out of hibernation? Kind of inconvenient timing, really. If you hadn’t just opened your mouth, I would have thought you were a really cool guy who wanted to do the right thing for his kids when the truth was that you wanted to do the right thing for your bank account.”
“For fuck’s sake, Johnny, that’s not—”
“Don’t tell me I’m wrong. You just admitted it.” He moved toward the island and smacked his hand on the pizza box. “You brought me fucking pizza!”
Now I was confused. “What does that have to with—”
“You managed me, you fucking asshole,” he growled. “You think you’ve got me figured out. Bring the punk some ’za and tell him some sad single-dad stories to butter him up before oh, so sensitively requesting him to play nice for your deal. Fuck you.”
“Johnny, that deal has nothing to do with my kids.”
“Of course not. It’s all about money. It always fucking is. A big swingin’ dick like you must pay a boatload in alimony. Not to mention the fancy house and the sweet wheels. Money matters to you, Sean. Christ, look at the suit you’re wearing.” He grunted in disgust, adding, “I have no idea what the hell Clay has to do with this, but I’m suddenly looking forward to going out with him this weekend.”
I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, wondering how to get my foot out of my mouth. Nothing came to mind. He was pissed and I was…flummoxed. The more I said, the further I’d bury myself. Time to retreat.
“Okay,” I sighed.
“Okay? Okay, what? You conned me.” Johnny marched around the island and pointed his finger at my chest. “That’s not okay in my book. I fucking hate duplicity.”
“So do I.” I captured his finger, unsurprised when he yanked it away. “Listen to me, Johnny. I’m being honest—totally and completely honest. I tried to tell you I had a lot of balls in the air the last time I was here. Work is complicated, my kids are complicated…at least, one of them is—and I’m scrambling to placate customers, investors, and my ex-wife while wondering what I can do to make every other weekend count so that my kids actually want to be with me.”
“You’re their dad. Why wouldn’t they want to be with you?”
“That’s cute.” I spread my arms wide as if offering myself as exhibit A. “Because I’m me…that’s why. I’m gruff, set in my ways, too controlling, too lame. Take your pick. Dividing time between two households isn’t easy on them. And I’m not gonna lie…it sucks for me. I feel like I’m auditioning every weekend to keep my place. One uncool dad move might set off a firestorm. I can’t be too gay. I can’t be too vocal. I have to be an island and a safe space. No storms, no drama, no surprises. I have to shut up and play a game I don’t always understand so I don’t lose and—” I paused for a moment, my voice trembling with emotion. “I will not lose my kids.”
Johnny looked startled by my outburst. I couldn’t blame him. I’d shared more with him than I did with my therapist. And it didn’t feel particularly cleansing. My chest heaved and my hands shook. I was unraveling faster than a spool of yarn being chased by a cat down a steep set of stairs. If I were smart, I’d apologize and get the fuck out.