don’t seem exactly alarmed or anything. Honestly, Nix, your response is worrisome.”
“Why?” he said in a bland tone. “People are into all kinds of shit, Dad. You’ve been around long enough to know. Besides, we all have our kinks to one degree or another. As long as they both wanna do it, who cares? Addicts have sex, that’s nothin’ new. If he can get paid doin’ it instead of robbing somebody or taking advantage of my fucking father, then more power to him.”
“Yeah… you’re a sick ass weirdo. I raised this monstrosity who sits before me. Jesus.” His dad slapped his thigh and burst out laughing. But the man was serious. “Usually, people are shocked at hearing something like that, but you’re looking at me like you wanna get in on the action.”
Nixon burst out laughing so hard it hurt. Truth was definitely stranger than fiction…
Time went on. They both smoked their cigars while listening to the music, drinking, settling in.
“I’ll put your mind at rest, Dad. Yeah, she’s a Christian,” Nixon admitted, breaking the silence. “She doesn’t go to church every Sunday or anything like that, but yeah, she believes in God and Jesus, and she prays.”
“Hell, I need to be asking if you’re still a Christian!” Dad hooted. “When is the last time you attended Sunday Liturgy? Any time recently?”
Nix scratched his nose. “No.”
“Do you even believe in God anymore, Nix?”
“Dad, I’m not trying to get into this with you. This is one of the reasons why Ma got upset with you. She was exploring her beliefs and all you did was try to bash and shame her. You’re not even a practicing Catholic, and yet, you want everyone around ya to be Bible thumpers or locked up in a cathedral all day. Look, stay outta my business. To me, religious beliefs are personal.”
“And so is who you’re fuckin’, but you let me know that!”
“Okay, fine. Yes! I believe in God! Ya happy, now?”
“Why are you so upset? It’s a simple question.” Dad huffed in resignation. “You act like you’re mad at God, after all these blessings around you. Look at your fuckin’ house, Nix! Fuckin’ tubular fish tank in the middle of the damn floor! Built-in wine cellar and state of the art kitchen and bathrooms. Heated floorboards, granite counters, massive office, and marble floors to boot! Look at your car! It’s like a fucking rocket! Look at the woman on your arm! An attorney with her own shit, career, and just so happens to be drop dead fucking gorgeous! You’ve got it made. What in the hell do you have to be mad about? You’ve got no reason to complain.”
“What do I have to be mad about? Hmmm, let’s see.” He leaned forward and glared at the old man sitting across from him. “Well, for starters, why did God take Sammie away instead of me!” His voice echoed. His father narrowed his eyes in thought. “I’ve got a lot to be mad about. Many questions I would like answered. Dad, material things don’t fix a fucked-up heart!” He pounded his chest with his fist. “I see people coming into my office, some of whom can’t afford me, in serious need. And sometimes I help them even though they may only have five dollars to their name. I have to make those choices. Every. Single. Day. I am bombarded with medical horror stories. And it doesn’t end there. In fact, that’s just the beginning.
“See, it’s my job is to get them compensation. To help right a wrong. To save a drowning man… But no amount of money can bring them peace, take away their PTSD, or make them truly whole again. These aren’t people with a head cold or splinter in their finger. They’ve got life-threatening illnesses and rare cancers that are ravishing their bodies. I see how people treat them, how the companies they worked at for over thirty years turn their backs on them the moment they become ill. I see how their family never comes around to care for them until these clients of mine get a big settlement. Then, all of a sudden, cousin Rudy White from Bedford, Pennsylvania, wants to send a fuckin’ fruit basket and visit her favorite relative in Chicago. That check got cut, but before that, she hadn’t reached out to them in years!
“Dad,” he shook his head vehemently, his body turning into an inferno of pent up rage, “I’m sick of the bullshit, all right? I watched a