Brian
"Hey, B."
I looked up from my homework, seeing Mr. King standing in the doorway of the pool house.
"Hey," I said, pulling out my headphones.
"What's up?" He asked, folding his arms over his chest.
"Uh, finishing up homework," I said, looking up at him.
"Wanna come with me to grab the boys?" He asked, holding up his keys.
"Yeah," I said, smiling as I stood up.
"You're driving," he said, "I have to drive all the way to Detroit at 4 A.M."
Detroit.
My body seemed to tense up at the sound of Detroit. That's where I hoped Andrew was back to by now. With his family. His wife and two sons.
"Meeting?" I asked, grabbing the keys from his hand as I closed the door behind me.
"Yeah," he said, "I was thinking me, you, and the boys could grab some food on our way? Hero's at Amelia's and Fran and Lena are in the city."
"Th-that sounds good," I said.
These are things a father does. Not be absent for eighteen years.
"You okay?"
I looked over at him as we walked out the front door, clenching my jaw. I walked around to the drivers side, getting in the truck.
"Y-yeah," I said, nodding as I put the key in the ignition, pulling away from the house.
"I've spent enough time with you to know you're lying."
I smiled. A genuine smile. No one but Fran could pick up on that.
"Just a lot on my mind," I said, keeping my eyes fixated on the road.
"Is it something to do with you and Fran?"
"No," I confidently said, "no, never. We're great."
"Well, I'm nosey," he said, shrugging.
I chuckled, looking over at him for a split second. My smile was wiped off of my face when I realized this could've been me and Andrew. But it hadn't been.
"My dad," I blurted, shaking my head.
Jo looked over at me, an eyebrow lifted.
"He, um, he came into the shop a while ago," I said, nodding, "he felt familiar, and I didn't really understand why. He told me the other night that he was my dad."
"Brian," he said, "I am so sorry. I know that's a lot."
"And I feel bad, because all Fran wants is for me to talk to her about it," I said, "but I can't. I can talk about everything with Mom, because I'm used to this. I'm used to her disappointing me. I'm not, however, used to having a father."
I felt like so much was lifted off of me with each word. And maybe Mr. King was the only person I could talk to about this, because he was the closest thing I'd had to a father.
"Has he tried to contact you again?" He asked.
"My boss keeps telling me he's been by every day," I said, nodding.
"Does he seem like a good man?" He asked, obviously curious.
"He seems like an amazing man," I said, nodding, "he's a lawyer, he's got two other kids. I'm sure he's the perfect dad."
Jo clenched his jaw, looking out the window.
"But he hasn't been there, so I can't confirm if he is or not."
