One and Done - S. Briones Lim Page 0,34

who?”

Dad’s color left his face. “Did you…did you try to kill yourself on purpose?”

I chuckled weakly. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

Dad lowered himself, squatting beside me and dragged his fingers through his thinning hair. He shot me a pained look. “What the hell, Jesse? I thought you were doing well! I thought you—we were doing well.”

I closed my eyes, ignoring the stench of acid that filled my nose. Focusing instead on the cool surface of the bathroom tiles, I whispered my reply. “Denying your feelings isn’t getting better. It just makes everything worse.”

“What is so bad about Charleston that would lead you to do something so despicable?” he demanded.

“It’s not about the place, Dad. It’s about me…”

The front door suddenly burst open to an influx of uniformed men. My eyes flashed wildly as they rushed toward me.

“Did you call the cops on me?” I screeched in a panic.

“The paramedics, but maybe I should have called the cops,” he replied in a grim tone.

Confusion set in as I was poked and prodded repeatedly. Before I knew it, I was being wheeled away on a stretcher. Dad stood by the door, talking to whom I assumed to be the captain of the squad.

“Rehab…”

“Counseling.”

“…alcoholic mother…”

“Dad! You can’t let them take me,” I yelped. “I’m perfectly fine! I just got into a little spat with Jason.”

Dad turned and locked eyes with mine, but somehow I knew none of my protests would be heard. The doors to the ambulance soon closed in on me and somehow I knew it’d be the last time I’d see him for a very long time.

Chapter 13

It’s been four years, five months, and two days since I had last spoken to Rocky. The radio silence never got easier, but I knew it was necessary. After my stint in therapy—not to mention my near-death experience—I saw that more clearly than I ever had before. I couldn’t go back to past triggers. Not after the progress I’d made so far.

I flipped a burger patty in the air and reveled in the sizzling sound it made on the industrial sized grill. Tyler’s Tavern was in its infancy, but has been regarded as one of the most popular restaurants in Charleston. Looking back, I would never have imagined myself becoming a chef, let alone a business owner, but I guess life is a curious thing.

The sound of thudding footsteps came up beside me, followed by a blast of musk. Even before the heavy cologne hit my nostrils I knew it had to be my dad. Our relationship has had its share of bad times and well, really bad times, but somehow we made it past the turbulence and came out on top. It’s funny what family therapy, business school, and cooking lessons could do to a father/son relationship.

“What’s up, Pops?” I asked, keeping my attention on the scalding oil in front of me.

Dad cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. “Um, Sport?”

My heart constricted. Dad never called me ‘sport’ unless something important was going on, especially since I was the least athletic person imaginable. I stepped away from the grill, worried that whatever revelation was about to be bestowed on me would result in burned fingers. “Anything wrong?”

“I…uh…” Dad scratched at his forehead, which was crinkled deeply.

I sighed. “Just spill it. Rip it off like a Band-Aid and get it over with.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “I spoke to your mother today.”

“Okay, maybe doing it quickly was a bad idea,” I joked, though judging by the seriousness on his face there was no humor in what he was about to tell me. I pulled at my neck anxiously and gulped. “What’s going on with her?”

“She’s…really sick, son.”

“Sick? What do you mean?” Images of hospital beds and tubes flashed through my head. I shook them off and frowned. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Let’s just say those cigarettes finally took a toll on her.” Dad’s face was devoid of any emotion, but in his eyes I detected a sliver of guilt.

I glanced back down at my burning burger and flipped it over. The sizzling pops did nothing to soothe my rising guilt. Regardless of what kind of a mother she was, I should have known all this. I should have attempted to reach out to her sooner. Feeling a need for comic relief, I snorted. “Funny, I’d always thought it’d be her liver that gave out.”

“Jesse,” Dad snapped. “This is not the time for jokes.”

“I know. I’m sorry…it’s just…” I couldn’t even finish my thoughts.