A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Here's a quick installment for this love-filled day.
Robby had a hard time sleeping last night because of his anticipation about the visit with his dad that is supposed to happen this morning. He was nervous to see him again. There was a strange combination of hope and cynicism floating through his nerves about the upcoming visit.
His last interaction with his dad was actually good. Probably the first time in his life that he was able to look back on a memory with his dad and call it "good". It was fleeting, though, and then Robby had to go and screw it up by kicking his dad's best student over a railing.
Robby sighed while putting away his mop in the closet. It was his turn to clean the bathrooms this morning, which was probably the worst chore on the rotation, although Robby didn't really care. Maybe it was due to his training in manual labor for Miyagi-Do, but he didn't mind having to be put to work. Except, the dullness of this work didn't distract from his current anxiety.
It was 8:30 and his dad would be here soon — hypothetically — and he needed to get showered and head to the visitation room.
Robby finished his chores for the morning and got himself showered and dressed. He touched his bruised cheekbone and cut lip with his fingers lightly as he stared at his reflection in the blurry mirror. His dad would probably ask why his face looked like this, he thought. Would he even believe me if I say I didn't start the fight? He wondered. He didn't want to argue with his dad during their short visit, but he knew it was likely inevitable — especially when he shows up with a black eye.
Robby walked the rest of the way to the visitation room and signed in. He took a seat at the table with his number on it and waited.
He looked around the room, nervously ringing his hands together. His leg bounced and he wasn't paying attention to it. What if he doesn't come? He thought. Part of him seriously doubted that his dad wanted to be here. He never made the effort to show up for him before, why would this time be any different? Looking around the room at the other kids talking animatedly with their guests he started to feel embarrassed. He couldn't believe he let himself get his hopes up for this.
He looked at the clock on the wall: 9:03
If he doesn't show in seven minutes, then he'll leave. This embarrassment is too much, he thought.
When he turned his head back to look towards the door, suddenly his dad came into view. Robby's leg stilled and his mouth fell open.
Johnny came toward him being directed by a guard. The guard brought him to Robby's table, then both men gave a nod of acknowledgement before the guard left Robby and Johnny alone.
Robby swallowed, his throat dry. He stood up awkwardly as his dad lingered near his table, shifting back and forth on his feet. Johnny unconfidently took a step toward Robby, reaching an arm out to pull him into a hug.
Robby compiled, letting his dad have his moment with his son. He hesitantly rested his head on his dad's shoulder. Breathing in, he smelt the sour scent of sweat, cigarettes, and alcohol on his dad's flannel. He knew his dad didn't smoke — this was likely coming from hanging out in bars. When he pulled away, Robby got a look at his dad's face and could see that his suspicions were right.
He wasn't the only one sporting a black eye and bruises. Johnny looked like he had been hit by a truck. His forehead had a gash in it with dried blood.
They both sat down on opposite ends of the table, neither knowing what to say.
Robby didn't want to be the one to make the first move.
"Your hair looks nice," Johnny said, his leg bouncing under the table.
Robby rolled his eyes. "Thanks," he deadbaned, crossing his arms.
"Come on, Robby, I don't know how to do this," Johnny said.
"Yeah, I know, being a dad was never your strong suit," he mumbled, looking away.
Johnny heard it, but tried to ignore his son's comment. He came here for a reason. He wanted to make something right, not worsen an already strained relationship.
"Hey, I'm proud of you for turning yourself in. It takes a big man to look at his mistake in the eye and do something about it. You did the right thing," Johnny said sincerely.
Robby tried to think of the last time his dad said he was proud of him. Nothing came to mind. He had hoped that he would feel relieved when his dad said that to him, but he felt nothing. His words meant nothing.
"Why did it take you so long to come here? Did you even try to come look for me?" Robby spit out. He couldn't control the anger in his voice.
Johnny was taken aback. He looked down at his hands feeling guilty. After the fight, Johnny ran too. Carmen didn't want anything to do with him for what happened to Miguel, and he was pretty confident that's how everyone felt about him at the moment as well. He thought about his son: the culprit of this mess; the one who everyone wanted to blame; the bad guy — an all too familiar reputation that Johnny hated to see reflected onto his son.
He blamed himself for this mess. Robby is a good kid, and if he didn't have such a screw up for a father, he would have actually had the chance to prove that to everyone.
Johnny looked around the room, unable to meet Robby's eyes. "I know. I screwed up," his eyes met his son's. "I thought I was doing the right thing by giving everyone space and trying to stay away, but you're my son, and I care about you, Robby. Even if you think I don't, I…" he didn't know the words to describe his feelings. I love you had never been in his vernacular growing up, and it still was absent even as an adult. He loved his son no doubt, but stringing those words together never came naturally for him.
Robby's face was hard. "So what, what do you want then? You think we can just forget the first 16 years of my life when you were never around and start over?" He asked, crossing his arms.
"We had a good day together. I know that doesn't make up for everything, but I thought it was a start, at least," Johnny reasoned with him. "Please, Robby. I want to help. I want to be there for you," he pleaded with his son. His foot shook under the table, waiting for the response.
A muscle in Robby's forearm twitched as he tightened his fist slightly. It infuriated him that his dad would say these words to him. But why? He asked himself. Isn't this what I want? A relationship with my dad, he thought. Robby took a moment thinking over Johnny's words. His stance was unchanging, but his eyes were colored with apprehension.
"Look, this doesn't mean we have to go to sports games or take my-selfie photos or whatever the heck those helicopter dads do now. All I'm saying is that after your time is finished here, you come live with me and I'll take you to school and be there for you when you break your arm again or whatever it is next time, just let me try to be your dad again," Johnny's heart was beating faster than he could remember it ever beating before. He laid everything on the line and he was dangerously close to failing again.
Robby's face cracked into a faint half-smile. He glanced off to the side before nodding slowly. "Okay," he nodded. "We can try, but I don't want to regret giving you a second chance," he said seriously.
Johnny felt a pang in his heart, "I don't want you to either," he responded slowly.
A moment of silence hung in the air as the two men stared at each other, neither daring to make the next move. Before they knew it, a loud buzz was heard over the intercom, "That's it for the visiting slot A. Say your goodbyes and thank you all for coming," one of the guards mumbled over the speaker.
Standing up, Robby deeply inhaled and blew it out through his lips. Johnny ran a hand through his hair before taking a step toward his son once again, reaching out more confidently this time to pull him into a hug. In his dad's embrace Robby felt some emotion rise up in his chest and his face get hot. He tried to discreetly wipe the corners of his eyes before the shimmer of tears became noticeable when they pulled apart.
"I have about a week to go, they'll let you know ahead of time when my last day is," Robby said, backing up from his dad.
"Alright, I'll be there," he looked him pointedly in the eyes.
They gave each other a half-smile and a nod before turning away to continue on with their days.
Robby left the visiting room with his hands in his pockets. He ran his index finger over the plastic cover of his little notebook and anxiously clicked the pen a few times in his other pocket. When he got back to his room, he whipped the notebook and pen out, then sat down on his bed and turned to a fresh page.
Dear Dad,
Thanks for showing up for me today.
Love, Robby
A/N: Maybe not how we typically think of a "Valentine's Day installment," but even without "I love you" or romance, putting in the effort to make amends, and being open to forgiveness, is probably the best gesture of love one could make.
Let's just hope Robby doesn't regret giving him this second chance!
