"You sheltered me from harm, Kept me warm, kept me warm, You gave my life to me, Set me free, set me free, The finest years I ever knew, Were all the years I had with you…"
"Everything I Own" Bread, American Band
"I gotta go see my dad," he says through a big exhale. I can already see he is mentally gearing up for whatever sort of battle this discussion might take. I am so proud of him for adding this to his long list of tasks to take care of now as we are going through so many other changes in a very short period of time.
"Yes, of course," I reassure him. "Lemme know how I can support you." He grabs my hand and holds it to his cheek.
"You already support me in so many ways, Shaun," he murmurs into my hand, and I am touched he sees my love and support so easily.
"Can you drive me there?" he implores. "Tonight?" I shove my hands in my pockets and nod my head in confirmation. "Let's go now then," he decides. "We can finish up here tomorrow." I pat his back as he crosses his arms over his chest and marches outside.
His brow is furrowed and he's biting the corner of his bottom lip as he dictates directions for the short trip to his father's apartment in clipped words and directional pointing. When we arrive, I park the car, grasp the wheel, and break the relative silence.
"I can wait here?"
"No," he mumbles, looking out the window at nothing in particular. "I want you to come with me." I squeeze his knee and unbuckle my seat belt.
Much like when we went to collect Cody as his mother was leaving, Zach grabs my hand and pulls me forward and along with him. He walks with purpose to his father's door. Stomping a bit like his nephew did earlier in his new flashing shoes, but with far less joy. I run my thumb over his before he grabs his keys and unlocks the door.
"Dad," he calls out into the darkened hallway. There is inconsistent light coming from one doorway that looks like a TV's illumination. An indistinct grunt comes from there and Zach leads the way as I step behind him to follow. Zach stops in the doorway.
"Hey Pops," he grabs the doorframe. "Gabe's brother Shaun is here with me," he points behind him as he enters the living room. His dad is half-reclined on the couch with his feet up, and he nods and turns down the volume to the TV as I wave in greeting.
"Hey, John," I call out as I go to shake his hand. "It's been a while, huh? I think the last time I saw you was their graduation," I acknowledge as I clap my hand over the back of his to add some stability to our handshake. Zach's father doesn't seem entirely in the present, and I grieve for this family who lost so much when he fell from a ladder at his workplace all those years ago.
"Sounds 'bout right," he mutters. I head over to a chair in the corner and allow Zach to do his thing.
"Are you doing your stretches?" Zach asks, ever protective of his red strings. His father sort of shrugs and it's clear he's not very comfortable. The same pill bottles that were in the bathroom trash are lined up here on the coffee table. I send a prayer up for Sylvia, who would be devastated to see her husband like this. "I wanted to talk about a couple things," Zach is still standing over his dad, with his hands shoved in his pockets. John looks up and waits. "I uh, got into CalArts," Zach boasts. For the first time since we came here, half his mouth tugs upward in a sort of side-grin and I can see that he is proud of this accomplishment. He should be. "Full-ride scholarship."
"Good work, boy," his father praises. Zach sits next to him on the couch to continue.
"As you know, Jeanne left for Oregon with Alan the other day," he explains as his father nods. "So I will be caring for Cody full-time now."
"You're a good boy. A good brother," his dad confirms. "Good uncle to Cody." Zach bows his head.
"Thanks Dad," he sighs. "And uh, Tori and I broke up. For good this time," he elaborates. "A lot of changes are going on." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "So… I'm uh, gonna be bringing Cody with me to live in LA so I can go to school… with Shaun."
"You're a good friend…" John sleepily sighs in my general direction.
"He is a good friend, Dad," Zach starts. "But he's uh, also more than that." He grabs my hand. "We are together, you know? We're a couple. He's my… boyfriend. He's gonna help me with Cody." I nod in confirmation. John takes it all in and we sit in silence for a few minutes while he digests the information that was presented to him. After consideration, he breaks the silence.
"Is this why it didn't work with Tori?"
"I mean, probably," Zach admits. "We are still friends and always will be." His dad purses his lips and nods.
"You've always been creative, Son. While I am not overjoyed you're doing this, it's not the biggest shock." It appears the fog he'd been sitting in has cleared a bit. "I wish your mom was here," he continues, pinching the bridge of his nose and wiping his eye. "She was better at this kind of stuff."
"Yeah, I miss Mom too."
"I want your life to be easy. And Cody's too. This," he sighs, looking toward me now, "isn't gonna make it easier. But," he acquiesces. "It probably makes you happier. If I learned anything from your mom, it's that life is better when you're happy, even if the life you're living ain't easy." His eyes meet his son's. After several seconds his eyes meet mine and he continues. "Sylvia loved you." I nod, my eyes glassing over now as we all remember his beloved wife.
"I loved her too." I confirm. "She was like a second mom to me. She supported my writing when no one else did."
"Yeah, that was Sylvia." He falls back into silence for several beats before speaking again. "I think you'd have your mom's approval on your choice, Son. As long as he treats you and Cody right, it's not my place to get involved."
Zach scoots closer to his father and envelops him in a hug, the tenseness in his jaw melts away and his shoulders which had been so rigid have calmed considerably. John accepts the hug and pats Zach's back a bit, then abruptly changes the subject.
"Can you grab me my smokes? I left 'em in the kitchen," he queries. Zach jumps up to go get the cigarettes. John looks over at me. "You take care of my boys," he insists.
"Yes, sir."
"I know you will. My wife… she had a gift for seeing people as they are. She trusted you more than most. I'm not thrilled Zach is choosing this path, but if he is, at least I know he chose someone good to take it with." My heart swells. Zach returns and hands his father the cigarettes. "You boys be safe. Take good care of my grandson, and let me know when you're in town," he finishes, essentially dismissing us now that this news has been shared. Zach nods and pats his father's shoulder.
"Do your stretches, okay?" he implores. His father shoos him away and Zach's eyes bob heavenward, probably letting his mother know he at least tried.
I stand up and confirm that I have heard his message. "We will, John."
We head back down the hall to the front door and Zach locks the door on our way out. We head to the car and start driving. While he is as quiet as he was on our way here, it's more of a calm, contemplative quiet. We pass by the liquor store where his mural once was and he starts talking.
"Did I tell you about when that got painted over?" he asks, pointing to the sad beige wall that once portrayed his love for me.
"Uh, just that it was gone," I reply, thinking of the high-quality photos of it I have saved on my camera that I need to order prints of. Clearly Zach needs to talk, so I pull over on the street across from the now-blank wall.
"After I, uh, ended it with you, I would sometimes come and look at it. It felt like… even if what we had wasn't permanent, at least there was this like, tribute to me and you that still existed in the world. Then one day — a pretty rough day actually — I hopped on my skateboard to go see it." He pauses, looking up at something that is no longer there. "Fucking Alan was painting over it."
"Jesus!" I exclaim, depressed for this man who clearly has many reasons for hating his sister's boyfriend.
"I mean, he is a house painter, so he was probably hired to do it. But it still felt like shit."
"I can imagine."
"Let's go home. I am tired and I just wanna be with you and enjoy our time alone together," he looks at me and gives me a lopsided grin.
"You got it, babe."