“And you’ll come home and he’ll meet your grams and your grams will love him as much as you do. And even though you try to avoid me I show up anyway. So you have no choice but to introduce us. I’ll smile. I’ll shake his hand. I’ll make small talk and I’ll store the little secret you’ll keep buried and hidden from him and from all your college friends because I’ll still love you. But I’ll hate him. I’ll hate him because he’ll give you everything I can’t. And I’ll hate him because he’ll have you and I won’t.”

He looks away.

“You deserve all of that, Becca. You deserve the coffee shop and the campus and the college education and all the experiences that come with it. You deserve for someone to look at you the way I have and love you the way I do. You deserve all of it. Even the stupid fucking hash tags.”

34

-Joshua-

“I entered a skate comp today,” I say, bringing the chair closer to Dad’s bed.

His eyes move to mine, then just as fast, go back to staring at the wall.

He doesn’t mind when I come over for the lawyer appointments because he makes an effort to look normal. Healthy, even. And even though he hasn’t spoken to me since the day I brought Tommy here, he at least acknowledges me now. He’ll speak to my mom and to my lawyer when I’m in the room. Just not to me. He hates my impromptu visits—the ones where he has no choice but to lie in his bed while I sit with him, watching him die, because he’s too unprepared to fake it.

I clear my throat and ignore the knot in the pit of my stomach. “It’s the first one I’ve entered since I found out Natalie was pregnant.” I wait for a reaction and when nothing comes, I continue, no longer afraid of what I want to tell him. “It was kind of a last minute thing. Something I completely forgot about until a couple days ago. I was unprepared but luckily there was this guy there—Chris—he kind of knew me from the skate park…

“So this Chris guy—he knows anything and everything about the skate circuit and between rounds he’d prep me about the opponents and he’d critique my form and he made sure I stopped skating so I could be at the right place at the right time. He carried my gear and made sure I was hydrated. He kind of did everything for me today. Just like you used to, Dad.” I focus on my hands so I can avoid focusing on him. “You remember when you’d take me to the comps and we’d wake up early and mom would pack our lunch but we never ate it because we always liked the food there better? You’d always make sure to know what she’d packed so when we got home and she asked how it was we could always lie about it. And you’d carry my gear and set timers because you knew that no matter where I was I wouldn’t stop skating unless I really had to. Then you’d stand at the sidelines with me, waiting for my name to be called and you’d always just say, ‘skate your heart out.’

“So Chris—he did everything you used to do, well, almost everything. He didn’t encourage me and he didn’t remind me that it didn’t matter if I placed or not, as long as I enjoyed it.

“I guess the reason I’m telling you this is because I haven’t been in a good place lately, Dad. It’s been dark, and hard, and lonely.” I sniff once, pushing back my tears. “Hunter called the other day and we joked that I might have postpartum depression. Which is kind of crazy but not really. I don’t know…” I shrug. “…I think maybe I just needed someone to encourage me—someone to tell me that it was okay to not be perfect. I think I just needed my dad.” I take a few calming breaths, still refusing to look at him. Then I reach down, grab the trophy, and set it on his nightstand. “I came second, Dad. I didn’t win, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even care that I placed. I skated my heart out just like you always told me to do. And I just wanted you to know that I get it, and that I forgive you. Because I know now—I know that it’s really, really hard to be perfect all the time. And you were, Dad. Up until that point, you were pretty damn perfect.”

I sit with him for a while, the preverbal weight lifted off my shoulders. When his eyes begin to drift shut and his breaths become steady, I reach into my pocket and pull out Becca’s note—my heart already racing as I unfold it.

I see you, Josh.

35

-Joshua-

“You look nice,” Maggie, the lady in charge at Tommy’s daycare says, brushing down my suit jacket. “We’re all sorry this is happening to you. You’re the last person in the world who deserves this and I just want to commend you for not letting it affect Tommy. The amount of kids we see whose behavior change because of this kind of stuff… well, you can imagine. My family’s been praying for the right outcome. Good luck today, Josh.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

She smiles a pitiful smile that changes the moment she looks down at Tommy. Then she takes his little hand in hers while he waves at me. “Bye, Daddy.”

I start to wave back but my emotions flood me and I drop to my knees and hold him tight for as long as I can, knowing it might be the last time. “I love you,” I whisper.

“You so silly, Daddy! I see you soon,” he says, but he hugs me back anyway because he knows I need it. He just doesn’t know why.

Maggie places her hands on his shoulders. “We got some new toys in the sandpit,” she tells him. “They’re calling your name.”