A Trophy Father's Son

I don't know why bad things happen to good people. If the crazy fucked up world we live in had some logic then bad things would happen to bad people, and good things would happen to good people. I became accustomed to bad things when my dad walked out on us. I was only ten years old, but I dealt with the pain not how a kid would but how an adult would deal. I was more stable than my mother at the time, and that's saying something. I think we all learned to deal with the unbearable pain and constant emptiness that doesn't go away by itself. When people ask me how I took care of my sisters at a young age I always just shrug my shoulders and cracked jokes, because I don't even know how I was able to pull that off. Mom was always working double shifts, and when she wasn't working she was finding another job to have food in the fridge for three kids and beer in the fridge for her deadbeat of a boyfriend. There's one thing that I never tell anyone not even Kitty. When I stumble in at night so drunk that I can't even make my way upstairs, that's when all of the pain floods. When most people are drunk their mind is blank, but I'm the complete opposite. Most of the empty barren grueling thoughts that take place are usually about my father. Why did he walk out on us? Were we not good enough for him?

8 am. One of the most silent hours in the Mathews household. Everyone is asleep except Blair, she's usually in her room keeping to herself. One of the most shocking things was, wait for it, I was sober because I spent my prior night with no other than Kitty staying up late talking about everything. You don't need alcohol when you can be drunk off someone so lively. Then there was knocking at the door.

"Shit." I muttered, rubbing my tired eyes.

I waited a minute to see if Audrey or Blair would answer the door. Then the quick rasping at the door went again.

"I'm fucking coming." I yelled.

Stumbling out of bed, I mentally cursed the whole way downstairs. I mean really who the fuck is up at this hour? They better have a good reas-

No. Nope. I peered through the peephole mid-thought thinking it would be one of the Greaseheads exuberant for the day ahead, but then I realized no one would be up. My throat closed up, and I could feel my heart rate skyrocketing. He was back. Why?

"Keith."

His voice hadn't changed, and I couldn't bring myself to let him in. We're fine without him, and he can't just waltz in almost ten years later acting as if nothing happened. Bare feet "pit-patted" down the creaky wooden stair case, and Audrey's pale eyes locked in with mine.

"Let him in."

"No."

Audrey elbowed me in the ribs pushing me out of her way to let him inside. It's not his house anymore he can't just do this. He stared at us, and those eyes stared at the two of us. My eyes. God fucking dammit, even after all of these years I still look like him. Audrey and Blair are spitting images of mom, and then there's  me. Without a doubt, I'm his son, and maybe that's why I bitterly hate him despite the damage he's already caused. He stands at 5'10, broad shouldered, slim and lean, gray blue eyes colder than ice, and his brown hair wearing thin turning gray.

No words escaped my mouth. Audrey was hugging him acting as if he was in our lives even after all this time. Like nothing changed. She was babbling away, and I just stared at my bare feet hoping that he could leave at any minute. More than anything I just wanted him to fuck off.

"Two-Bit."

"I don't have anything to say to you." I spat.

Audrey let out an over dramatic sigh, and led the asshole into the kitchen. Audrey and dad were sitting down, and their faces went from cheerful to serious within the span of 30 seconds. I couldn't bear to look him into his eyes, because I know I would have to see those eyes later when I look myself in the mirror. My stomach tied into knots, and I grabbed a beer out of the fridge sitting at the table turning my head away from him.

"It's not good to drink this early," Dad finally said.

"Yeah, like you ever cared. All you ever did was drink in the mornings."

He became silent, and I smiled to myself knowing that shut him up. Audrey shook her head at me, and I shrugged my shoulders and took a sip. Then the conversations began. Audrey went on about how cold and distant Blair's been, and she thought that his presence could change that.

Yeah right. I couldn't listen to this anymore. I couldn't I felt the same familiar feeling building in the pit of my stomach, I couldn't allow myself to cry especially in front of my little sister and my asshole of a father. I promised myself when I was eleven I'd stop wasting tears over someone who would never care.

"So, Tibby what do you think?"

A part of me felt bad for missing 98% of the conversation, but I couldn't give less of a fuck. The questions zoomed around my mind. The questions never answered, and all of them spilled out all at once.

"Where have you been?"

"I-"

"It's been fucking hell the past years."

"Ke-"

"I don't think you understand all the damage you've fucking caused."

He was silent.

"Don't look at me like that. Even when you were my father you weren't home to tuck any of us in at night. I had to lie about my dad, and I still thought that you were the best."

His gaze softened, but he was still listening.

"You don't even care. You never missed us, you were too busy getting drunk and fucking some high class slut. I spent years wondering if you gave a single fuck about us, but it's pretty damn obvious. Why did you walk out on us? Was it something I did? Was it something we did? I don't think you ever understood what it's like for kids to understand to have their father leave them. We never understood this. The last thing we heard was you were leaving for work, and then two months later we heard from mom that you're off on the east side with a new everything."

Audrey's eyes welled up with tears, and I saw Blair poke her head into the kitchen. Always so silent, enjoying living in the shadows.

"I want answers. I want you to tell me why you left us. You ran away from your problems. You're a coward. So tell me, I'd love to know, really. I spent years wondering why my own dad would leave us. You were my hero, but now I could care less if you dropped dead. Frankly I'd love it if you dropped dead, I wouldn't care less."

"Two-Bit!" Audrey cried.

"Do you think this is a family? Is this what you call a family? I just want to know." I breathed, and I wanted to feel guilty for all of the harsh words I spat at him, but I didn't regret anything. I spent years and years wanting to ask him this, and I finally did.

The room was now silent.

"I could fix this."

"Like hell you can."
****************************************************
"Oh god." Kitty repeated over and over again into the phone receiver.

I know she was speechless, but I had to tell someone what happened.

"What do you say about getting out of here? I'll pick ya up. We can get out of Tulsa, just for the night."

"Pick me up in ten."