his shoulder, “You want anything?”
He was a solid kid, good manners, and I knew that even though I’d said I wasn’t getting involved with them, I couldn’t tell him to get lost. So, I caved, just a little, and said, “Sure. Bring me a beer, will ya?”
He nodded and turned on a heel, disappearing into the garage. Moments later, he came back carrying two cans, shut the door, and handed the beer to me. He sat on the other end of the couch and tapped a finger against the soda can in his hands but was otherwise quiet and still.
He was coiled tight.
Contemplative.
So, I waited him out, not wanting to prod. Letting him get to whatever was on his mind, in his own time.
I flipped through the channels on the television before landing on a replay of the OU and Longhorn game from the day before, giving him time and space.
We were into the second quarter before he finally voiced what was bothering him. “Hey, Alex? Can I ask you something?”
I braced, knowing that there was absolutely no telling what was about to come out of his mouth, but I agreed. “Sure, son. What’s on your mind?”
“Well, putting all that furniture together was a pain in the rear, but it was also kinda cool to learn something, you know? So, I was wondering, well, I see you working on your car a lot, and I was hoping that maybe, I could come to watch you sometimes? Learn something new?”
Of everything I’d anticipated coming from this kid, that wasn’t even on my radar. It threw me for a minute, and his face fell. “If not, it’s cool. The last thing you probably want is some halfwit, asshole teenager hanging around.”
I jerked back in shock. Since I’d met him, Nate had been respectful, amusing, and happy, so the halfwit teenager thing was out of left field.
Angrily, he started to stand, so I jerked to my feet and threw out a hand, saying, “Nate, stop. One, you can come over whenever you need to. Open door policy.” I felt a pang at saying that but pushed through, needing to make my point. “And two, what’s with the language, kid? I was expecting you to ask about girls or bikes or something, so I needed a breath to switch lanes.”
He sagged into himself, deflating as he processed my words.
I gave him a moment, then prompted again, “Nathaniel.”
He sighed and slumped into the couch before saying, “My dad. He hates being around me. I’m pretty sure he would still be with Mom if I weren’t such a ‘halfwit asshole’.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
That asshole had done a number on his kid.
Any plans I had of keeping my distance evaporated.
Suddenly, with a ferocity that surprised me, I was all in. “That motherfucker didn’t deserve either of you. Fuck him, Nate. You’re a cool kid, and any man would be lucky to have you for a son. Hell, anybody, period. I promise you; he knows what a good kid you are. Your old man walking didn’t have shit to do with you or your ma. It had to do with a halfwit asshole piece of shit little dick mother fucker not being a good man.”
I sucked in a breath to keep going but stopped when I watched his face change from disgust and self-pity to awe.
Softer, calmer, I finished, “Seriously, kid. Hear me. Not having you guys? That’s his loss. Fuck ‘im. You’re better off without him. Get me?”
His eyes went glassy and red, and remembering once being at an age where you can’t control shit, I waited, letting him calm. When he’d composed himself again, I crouched down in front of him and looked him dead in the eyes to make sure we were on the same page. “Serious as shit, kid. Do you need something? I’m here. But you always need to remember that this,” I pointed at him and to the front door where several yards away lay his, and back to him finishing, “you and your ma? Y’all are better off without him.”
It took a few seconds before he gave it to me, but when he grinned, I felt that shit deep. Then he said, “Yeah. Fuck him.”
I snorted and stood, patting his knee once, and saying, “Maybe you don’t say that part in front of your mom. Save us both from getting our asses kicked? Do me a favor, yeah?”
I held out a fist and grinned, waiting.
He grinned back and reached out and bumped mine back.