Like silver rain that fell upon me
I was just curious, since when didn't Lucas like alcohol. He tried to scam beers in the 2nd season and in the 3rd season he was all "oh, we don't drink, or, I don't drink"
YEAH, RIGHT! You ain't foolin' anybody mister!
Chapter 2 Sweetly Ironic
After several long glasses of a warm, deep, tangy merlot, Lucas found himself feeling overwhelmingly relaxed. With an unusually pleasant feeling taking up residence in his head he watched his father and gave an uncoordinated smile. Lawrence was what seemed like babbling about his work of the last 10 years. Lucas felt kind of tired. He wasn't used to a lot of alcohol at one time and he was beginning to wish he had something to eat at mess with Jonathan and Lonnie. Staying off the sick feeling in his stomach, he refused the top up offered by the waiter and requested, instead, some water.
Lucas opened his eyes wide in an attempt to wake himself a little. His father was still talking and hadn't noticed Lucas's sudden sleepy downfall. He pretended to listen attentively but really had lost the conversation a few glasses back. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't interested in science or R n D money.
"Didn't you wonder where I was?" Lucas cut in.
Lawrence stopped talking about his work and answered Lucas quicker then Lucas was expecting.
"Of course, I called everyone, but no body could tell me anything."
Lucas nodded, silently disbelieving his father. He answered it a little too easily for his tastes, so should Lucas choose to make his next question a little harder? Lucas should…
"Why didn't you want me?" Lucas asked.
"What?" Lawrence asked, flabbergasted by the question.
"Why didn't you want me?" Lucas asked again.
"Lucas, I didn't not want you, why do you ask that?"
Lucas tisked angrily at the question, why do I ask? He thought to himself.
"Dad," Lucas said in the most serious tone he could find after so much alcoholic consumption.
"I can count all the birthdays you spent with me on one hand, now while I'm not really sure on my age exactly; I know I am not 5,"
Lucas sat silently for a minute, as if he was double checking that,
"Unless you regularly go out and buy 5 year olds vintage merlot." he continued sarcastically. Lawrence laughed, not realizing it wasn't the appropriate type of remark to sniggle at. Lucas made the comment very clearly in his defensive tone of voice. The one he used to use as his way of validating his reasons for being aboard seaQuest. Problem was, Lawrence was the reason, which is probably why he didn't understand the complexities of the defensive Lucas joke, i.e. the one you don't laugh at.
"Lucas," His father started,
"I understand that it was hard, it wasn't easy for me either, but as much as I regret it now, you weren't the only person at that point of my life who needed my undivided attention."
Lucas didn't respond with a verbal attack like he imagined himself doing but a few years ago. He couldn't believe how much is father could give and take in only one sentence.
Holding up his right arm with spread out fingers, Lucas mouthed the words one hand before getting up from his uncomfortable seat.
"Lucas please don't leave," his father begged.
"I can't help it, it's in my blood." The words were as cold as Lucas could manage to make them.
He had looked forward to seeing his father for some unknown reason. Maybe in the hope he had changed, or actually missed him. Maybe 10 years wasn't enough time, but then, what would be?
"What do you want me to say? I screwed up as a father and I'm sorry for that, please stay Lucas, I have been looking forward to seeing you." Lawrence cried out in protest.
He lifted from his seat and motioned to grab Lucas's arm. Moving out of his reach, Lucas looked him in the eye and with a very calm, rational voice, spoke words he never thought he would find himself saying.
"I forgive you for being a lousy father, I understand that there were people who's time was more important then mine,"
Lawrence's arm drifted to his side as he watched his boy confront him. The words hit harder then either of them expected.
"But you don't get to ask me to stay,"
The meeting ended the same way their meetings always end, with someone getting angry (usually Lucas) and someone leaving abruptly, so what was different this time? Why didn't Lucas feel anger or regret? Maybe it was the same as the realization of the song, some things you just don't understand, until you have grown just enough to see over the wall.
With that, Lucas left D'oro.
On his exit, he realised that the reason he had been looking forward to seeing his father was because he not only, on some level understood his actions, but wanted to forgive him for them.
As he passed the souvenir shops he had previously browsed through, Lucas heard heavy footsteps trail up behind him. Turning around, he expected the sight of his father racing up behind him to tell him all the things he wanted to hear; instead it was the waiter who served them the merlot.
"Sir, the senior' he asked me to give you this."
The flustered waited handed Lucas a paper napkin.
"Thank-you" Lucas said quietly as he took the flimsy paper. Without really thinking, Lucas opened the soft tissue.
Having spent many years drawing designs for submarines and various inventions in restaurants on paper place mats and napkins, Lucas felt the words his father had scribbled into the paper with his expensive gold nib pen were so sweetly ironic, he couldn't stop smiling.