Page 84 of Malaise
He looks to Tanya who settles onto the edge of the armchair, hands clasped between her knees. Something passes through his gaze. Regret? Resolve?
“No.”
Resignation.
“I can’t.” He shakes his head vehemently, turning his focus back to me. “I won’t.”
Carver was right. To even mention this man in the same sentence as the word “family” is a fucking joke. “What kind of father are you?” I whisper.
He stares at me pitifully, shifting his focus warily to Tanya before he answers. “One who should have known when to quit.”
I stare at him for an absurd amount of time, trying to work out what the fuck goes on in a man’s head for none of it to matter: the first glimpse at your baby when they’re born, the precious memories of milestones achieved as your child grows, and the knowledge that your offspring holds a ridiculous amount of unconditional love for you… no matter how big of an arsehole you might be.
How can he just leave his only son to fight alone? Whether Carver did it or not doesn’t matter anymore—Jon should want to help regardless. For everything Carver’s done. For everything Jon’s neglected to do.
“There aren’t words to describe you,” I seethe, backing out of the room.
The bastard smiles maliciously at me, shaking his head slowly while Tanya stands to join me. “You must have had me pegged all wrong in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”
“I must have.”
“Come on,” Tanya urges, taking me by the arm. “We’re clearly not going to get anywhere with him.”
She half leads, half drags me out of the house and to where the car waits in the driveway. I pace around to the passenger door and open it, only to slam it again when I realise that being cooped up in the confines of the vehicle again is the last thing I want to do while this rage burns a vile trail through me.
“I can’t believe he won’t even go down and talk to him.”
Tanya watches sympathetically over the top of the car as I pace the gap between the Falcon and the fence. She folds her arms on the roof and rests her chin on her forearms. “I don’t know why I thought this time might be different, either.”
“What do you mean, ‘this time’?” I stall my movements, eyeing her.
“Every time we’ve turned to Dad for help or guidance he’s shot us down.”
The remorse in her eyes softens my foul mood. I lean on the car, mirroring her stance. “Carver said you and him had to arrange your mum’s funeral on your own.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “But in all fairness, I think we got it done easier without Dad getting in the way.”
“Still....”
She lifts her gaze to find mine and smiles weakly. “It’s about as shitty as your parents kicking you out, huh?”
“Yeah.”
She taps the roof with a flat hand and steps back. “Where to, Miss Daisy?”
I shrug, opening my door and dropping in at the same time as her. “I guess back to the motel, please.”
Tanya pauses, hands on the wheel, before she turns the car over. “I’m sorry we can’t offer you anywhere to stay, Meg.”
“Not your fault.” I’m not sure I could withstand the pressure cooker her father creates right now. Especially after he’s so blatantly abandoned his kid. Bastard.
The question remains though: where was Carver that day if not with his dad? And why would he lie to me about it? What does he have to hide? Only one way to know for sure.
“They won’t let you visit Brett until he’s had his preliminary hearing,” Tanya states, backing out the drive.
“How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”
She flashes me a smirk as she shifts the car into gear. “It was written all over your face.”
“I need to know where he was, why he lied to me.” Resting my elbow on the door, I sigh. “I need to know if he really did it.”
“So do I, honey. So do I.”