Family Money(8)

I took a shot with the basketball from the edge of the opened garage, but it came up way short. I didn’t have much energy tonight. My head was spinning, and my body was in shock. I glanced over to a window of the house. Everyone had migrated from the hospital to our home, thinking we shouldn’t be alone right now. That was probably true for my mom. But not for me. A few relatives had come out here to check on me but quickly got the hint and left me to myself. I checked my watch again. Eight hours and twenty-nine minutes. I spotted another pair of headlights, and then a nice black Mercedes sedan parked along the curb in front of our three-bedroom house. A trim man with thick brown-grayish hair got out. He wore khakis, a blue sweater, and black dress shoes. Taylor’s father.

I was surprised to see him. I had been dating his daughter for only a couple of months. After Taylor had spent the day with me at the hospital, I told her to go on home—I just needed alone time. So it was curious to see her father now walking up the driveway toward me. We were really just getting to know each other. I had found him to be a pleasant man with a gentle spirit. He wasn’t one of those stereotypical intimidating fathers who had threatened to end my life if I ever hurt his little girl. I’d liked him from the beginning.

I tucked the basketball under my arm. “Mr. Dobson.”

“Mind if I join you, Alex?”

I tilted my head. “Shooting hoops?”

“Sure. I think I’ve still got some game left.”

I shrugged. “All right.”

I passed him the ball. He dribbled once to his left and fired up a shot from about fifteen feet out. It swished. I smiled, retrieved the ball, passed it back out to him. He tossed up another and made it.

“I didn’t realize you played basketball, Mr. Dobson.”

“Starting point guard in high school.”

“Really? Cool.”

“Hey, I’d like you to start calling me Joe, okay?”

“Oh, okay.”

We passed the ball around, took some more shots. It felt good to just be doing something normal with someone. And unlike the others, Joe wasn’t treating me like a porcelain doll that might break if he suddenly said the wrong thing. That’s not what I needed right now. The rain started to come down heavier, so we took a break and huddled inside the covering of the garage.

“You going to be on the basketball team again this year?” Joe asked.

“I think so. Although my football coach would rather me spend the off-season focusing on my footwork and throwing hundreds of balls a day. So we’ll see.”

I was the starting quarterback on varsity and getting some good looks by college recruiters. My future was probably in football.

“I think it’s good for you to play a lot of sports at your age.”

“That’s what my dad always says . . .” I paused, swallowed. “Or said.”

I felt the sudden weight of that phrase, cursed, then was embarrassed.

“Sorry, Mr. Dob . . . I mean, Joe.”

“No need to apologize, Alex. I think a bit of cursing is appropriate on a day like today.” He gave me a tight smile. “You know, I lost my father in a car crash when I was young. Not quite as young as you, but it was still a shock. It took me a long time to speak of him in the past tense. That made it real.”

“It doesn’t seem real right now.”

“It may not for a long time. You don’t need to rush it.”

I nodded. I liked talking to Joe. He just had a steady way about him that made conversation easy. I’d been nervous as hell when I’d first met him a couple of months ago. Taylor spoke of her dad like he hung the moon. He was her hero in every way. So I felt insecure going into that first dinner at her house. Plus, her family had loads of money. Mine did not. Taylor lived in a huge house with a pool in a rich neighborhood. We lived in this run-down tract home on a street lined with nearly identical houses. My father was a construction contractor who made just enough to pay the mortgage and keep food on the table. Joe was a successful attorney. But he had never made me feel uncomfortable about it or implied that I wasn’t good enough for his only daughter.

“Your mother is going to really need you to step up,” Joe said to me.

“I know. It’s just us now. We’re alone.”

He put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re not alone, okay?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, I got family in there, I guess.”

“I don’t mean them, Alex. I mean me.”

I tilted my head, surprised to hear him say that.

Joe continued. “I want you to know I’m here for you, son, regardless of what becomes of your relationship with my daughter. I want you to feel free to call me, day or night, with whatever is on your mind. I know this won’t be an easy road for you. A young man losing a father is devastating. But I’ve been there, and I want to be here for you. If you’re okay with that.”

I met his eyes. I could tell he meant it. I was startled by the sudden swell of emotions that began to bubble up inside of me. I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded. But I also couldn’t fight off the tears that were starting to form in my eyes. I tried to stop myself. The last thing I wanted was to cry in front of Taylor’s dad. But I couldn’t help myself. Especially when I saw Joe’s eyes suddenly grow wet. That’s when the damn burst. So I let go and allowed every emotion I’d buried inside me to pour out. Joe put his hand on my shoulder, pulled me in closer, and held me like I was his own son.