I open my mouth to speak but come up empty. I’m at a loss for words only because here I am at twenty-eight years old, and I can already look back and see things I wish I’d done differently. I can already look back and feel that sting of regret. It has nothing to do with my dad, and it’s nothing he can shield me from. It’s just life.
He squeezes my hand again, pulling my attention back to the here and now, and when I look up, he’s staring back at me with eyes that are more focused and intense than I’ve seen them in a very long time – maybe ever.
“Listen to me, Berlin, not only do I want you to live a life free of regret, I never want to be a millstone around your neck,” he says fiercely. “I never want to be a burden to you. Ever.”
“Dad, you’re not a burden to me.”
“I am, though. I’m not a fool. I know I am,” he tells me. “Which is why I want you to put me in a home somewhere. A state-run place – I don’t really care. I just want you to be able to live your life for you instead of worrying about me all day, every day.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” my voice is firm.
“It’s what I want, honey,” he presses. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and that is exactly what I want.”
“Like I said, it’s not going to happen,” I spit. “So you might as well get that thought out of your head right now.”
He sighs and looks down. “So you’re not going to abide by my wishes?”
“When they’re stupid and irrational, you bet I won’t.”
“Berlin, I’m not incoherent. I know what I’m saying, and I know what I want,” he continues. “This is my wish –”
I stand up so suddenly, he bites off his words. I’m not going to just stick him in some warehouse where he can sit there every day waiting to die. He’s my dad, and as such, is my responsibility. That he’s pushing back so hard against me is filling me with grief and anger – emotions I’m learning all too often go hand in hand.
“Berlin –”
“No, Dad. I’m not going to do that,” I tell him, my voice barely more than a whisper. “This conversation is over.”
I turn and leave his room, closing the door behind me. I hate leaving him when he’s so present with me – I worry how many more of these days we’ll have together – but I can’t have that conversation with him. I won’t. I’m not going to entertain the idea of sticking him in a hole somewhere and just wait for his clock to run out.
I can’t. And I won’t. I refuse.
Chapter Eight Sawyer
“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice we’re in the same building as the public defender’s office.”
Having just wrapped up a meeting with a couple of the city planners on a project for the city we’ve got scheduled, Rider and I are standing at a vending machine in an alcove.
“You’re quite the observant one this morning,” I quip.
He shrugs and feeds some money into the machine, then presses the Dr. Pepper button. There’s a loud clunk, and Rider bends down to retrieve the bottle that rolls into the tray. He twists off the top and takes a long swallow, then grins at me like an idiot.
“I’m just pointing it out in case you feel like going up a couple of floors to get a first-hand look at how our wonderful justice system works,” he notes. “Or you know, just in case you felt like taking an extremely smart and incredibly gorgeous social crusading lawyer to lunch or something.”
The same thought had actually already occurred to me which, was why I agreed to meet the city planners in their office rather than insist they come to mine. And given the way Berlin had sprinted out of the restaurant the other night – along with the fact that she has yet to reach out to me – I figured I’d have to track her down if I wanted to see her again.
As Rider looks at me, a wide smile cracks his face. “Oh, you already mapped this all out.”
I shrug. “I always have a plan. You should know that by now.”
“What was I thinking?”
“You obviously weren’t,” I grin.
“So, do you want me to hang out and wait for the inevitable shoot down?” he jabs at me. “Or are you going to take that walk of shame back to the office alone?”
“When did you get to be so funny?” I smirk at him. “We need to get you to an open mic night.”
“You need to tell her, Sawyer,” he informs me, his tone more serious. “The wheels are in motion and –”
“I know, I know,” I groan. “I’m planning on it.”
“You said that last time.”
“I know. I meant to. I was just enjoying her company, and I didn’t want to fuck it up,” I admit.
“Fair,” he concedes. “But seriously, if you want to build something with her, you’re going to need full transparency here, man.”
I sigh. “I know. And I’m going to tell her.”
He looks at me for a long moment and then nods, flashing me a grin. “Okay man, I’ll leave you to it then,” he grins. “I’ll see you back at the office.”
“Yeah, get out of here and go do some work,” I laugh. “Go earn the exorbitant salary I’m paying you.”
“Good luck, man,” he says, and then under his breath adds, “You’re going to need it.”
Rider turns and walks away, laughing to himself. It makes me chuckle and shake my head. One of these days I’ll learn to hold some things back and not tell him everything. He usually just uses it as fodder to trash
