His father stumbled into the doorway, and Sullivan had to brace himself against the shock. He barely recognized this man. His father had to have lost fifty pounds, and his face was sunken in and hollow. He smelled like rotten tequila and had dirt covering his hands and face. His brown hair was greasy and long, and his once-brown eyes now looked nearly gray and lost. So damn lost. A quick look inside the house, and Sullivan spotted glass on the floor, the smashed family pictures in the hallway.
“Why don’t you fucking listen?” his father roared, snapping Sullivan’s gaze up. “I told you to stop coming here. You’re not fucking welcome.” Spittle formed at the corners of his mouth.
Sullivan knew why. He took after his mother’s side of the family, and he suspected when his father looked at him, he saw a painful reminder of all he’d lost. “I’ve got some good news—”
“Get off my property.”
Sullivan took a step forward. “Dad, I—”
“You never fucking listen.”
His father lunged then, and completely caught off guard, Sullivan took a direct punch right under his eye. He went soaring back to land on the grass below the porch steps, feeling the blood flowing down his face.
“Was that the first time your father hit you?”
Sullivan blinked, yanking himself out of that dark time in his life. He didn’t realize he’d spoken the story out loud. He rubbed his arms, trying to fight the chill. “No, but it was the last.”
Elizabeth gave a soft, sympathetic smile.
He forced himself to continue, and it all flowed easily. They talked more about that day, about his mother’s death, and more about the abusive man his father became. Each minute felt longer than the one before it, and when he finally got to leave, he’d nearly gulped at the air outside.
As he walked to his car, his head started to pound, and he kept thinking he should feel something, but all there was in his chest was emptiness. He’d left his truck parked at the curb and walked downtown. People were everywhere, shopping and enjoying the day, but Sullivan couldn’t shake the haunting darkness shadowing him. He stopped at the local coffee shop; Hot Brew and Eats, the signage read. The shop definitely hadn’t been there when Sullivan lived there. It used to be a breakfast hotspot, but they’d kept the old retro-style booths, refinishing the seats in brown leather instead of the red he remembered. He made it to the counter, where a young brunette stood wearing all black with a black apron. Her eyes went huge when she saw him, indicating she watched baseball.
“Hi!” she said, excitedly. “Um, what can I get you?”
“Coffee with cream,” he said.
“Sure, coming right up.” She blushed, then hurried to process his payment. As she did so, a couple of women entered the shop, behind him.
“We’ve got ten minutes before school is out.”
“We’ll make it,” the other woman said. “Besides, I need caffeine if I’m going to get through the meeting with the principal.”
“Girl, you’ve got this. Get your Mama Bear claws ready.”
Sullivan smiled to himself at their conversation, and he glanced down at his watch. Three o’clock in the afternoon. He remembered when his mother watched over him like that, when she would meet him at the elementary school to walk him home, and sometimes have baked cookies waiting for him. He missed those moments with her.
“Here’s your coffee.”
Sullivan jerked his gaze up, finding the young woman offering him the paper cup. “Thanks.”
She blushed again and held up her cell phone. “Can I get a photo? No one will believe me when I tell them I met you.”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” he said with a smile, angling his body to get closer to her over the counter.
After she snapped her photo, he said his goodbyes, smiled at the confused women who obviously wondered who he was, and left the coffee shop. He planned to go left and head back to his rented truck. Instead, his feet had him moving right while he sipped his coffee. He kept his eyes down, not wanting to make eye contact. Fame came with the job; he never minded it. Hell, he liked the kids. He just didn’t think they should look up to him. Many of his teammates had it all together, wife, kids, the perfect modern-day family. Sullivan felt stuck in a Groundhog Day scenario where he carried on numbly, feeling nothing, until all of a sudden, he felt everything. It never ended well.
Eventually, he