He took another drag and tossed the butt into the street.
“If I had known…if I had gotten ahold of you, you could have told me—I would have come for you.”
“I wouldn’t have told you,” I said.
“I might have…might have seen the signs.”
“I would have denied it,” I told him, finally meeting his eyes. “No one knew. I passed it off as soccer injuries. Tape up my ribs—go on with it. No one knew.”
“Tape up your…? Holy fucking shit!” Gardner stood up, nearly ripped his hair out, and then lit up another cigarette. He was really making me want one. “He broke your…ugh!”
He threw his cigarette out into the street and dropped down beside my chair again. A couple of people looked at us sideways as they came out of the restaurant.
“Fucking idiot…” Gardner was mumbling under his breath. “Should have fucking noticed something. Should have come here…should have…done something. Anything. Too fucking selfish.”
He looked up at me, his eyes flaming.
“God, Thomas—I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I told him. “You didn’t do it.”
“Yeah,” he barked out a laugh. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t do jack shit.”
He lit up another one.
“I was so fucking selfish,” he said after a minute of hot-boxing the smoke. “I was almost relieved when he said I couldn’t see you. I don’t know how to be a father…I thought maybe it was best. I mean…sometimes I thought it was best not to be in your life.”
He looked back to me.
“I’m sorry, Thomas.” He reached out and touched the arm of my chair. “Really fucking sorry. I should have been here. I should have been here for you as soon as I knew.”
I didn’t know what to say to him. Would it have made any difference? Would I have ever told him anything? No. Not a chance. Before Nicole, I had never told a fucking soul, and there’s no way I would have told him.
“I never would have said anything,” I told him again. “Lou Malone was an upstanding citizen. No one would have believed any of it.”
“I would have,” he said quietly. “I would have done something. Fuck, right now I want to dig him up and beat his fucking corpse.”
I chuckled and then stopped myself. It wasn’t funny…well, it kind of was.
“I’m serious,” he told me.
“I know,” I replied. “I feel like doing it myself.”
We sat in silence again, him smoking while I just tried to make the whole conversation fit into my brain. It was so much all at once, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to hear it.
“Do you want me to grab your lunch?” he asked.
“Not really hungry,” I replied.
“I’ll go pay the bill.”
“I can get it.” I started to maneuver back toward the door, but he stopped me.
“I got it,” he said as he walked through the door.
I sighed, knowing I couldn’t have caught up with him anyway. Instead, I tried to process all this information. He wanted to see me, which was something, at least. He wanted to beat up my dad, which made me feel a little better, but I wasn’t sure where that left us now.
My dad was dead, and I had just met my father. That shit was fucked up by anyone’s standards. I guess I’d just have to figure out a way to sort it all out.