Changing Seasons

Forty-Two

****

The living room had been beautifully decorated while Krist had been napping. Although he hated holiday decor and found it to feel like clutter, Krist couldn't help but smile when he saw how well Atira had put everything together.

"I bought some things for the tree as well," she told him, folding into his arms. "I was thinking we can pick Roccp up in my car tomorrow and let him pick out a tree."

"He will love that."

"I also got stocking stuffers for him and an Elf on the Shelf."

Krist wrapped his arms tighter around Atira and kissed her. "You are seriously the best. How did I get so lucky? How much do I owe you, by the way?"

"Seriously, don't even worry about it. Seeing Rocco's face tomorrow will be more than worth it."

"I owe you, for real."

Even though Atira insisted he didn't owe her a thing, he led her to the couch to repay her.

Satisfied and relaxed, the two spent the evening cuddled on the couch and watching holiday bake-off shows.

Krist looked at his Facebook messages and noticed he'd gotten a message from his dad. He'd seen on the news Krist had been stabbed and wanted to know if he was alright. Marcus also informed him that Krist had a younger brother who was three. Rocco's age. He then ended the message, asking Krist to call him "if you don't mind."

In his gut, he knew he shouldn't have bothered. Of course, that was taken over by the stupid longing for some semblance of a relationship with his father.

Krist excused himself to the bedroom, dialing the number his dad had included in the message. His heart pounded as he waited for him to pick up.

Marcus answered the phone, voice slurred. He was drunk.

"Hey, Dad. How have you been?"

"I'm doing real good. Got a good ol' lady, we got a kid. Marky. The best thing that ever happened to me was that boy. You should see him. He's got a little dirt bike that he rides around. Little daredevil he is. I love that kid."

Jealousy and hurt struck Krist in the chest. Krist may have been a grown man, yet he wished his dad had spoken about him with some pride.

"I got a kid of my own now. I don't know if you know that. His name is Rocco."

"Oh yeah, your aunt Sheila told me that a while ago." His dad replied.

Resentment boiled in Krist's chest. He knew about Rocco but did not send any congratulations or ask how he was doing. Marcus did not care, not that Krist should have expected otherwise.

"So why did you want me to call you?" Krist asked, his spite creeping into his voice.

"Wanted to ask 'bout what happened."

"You saw it on the news, right? I mean, that's basically all there was to it."

"Ya know, you can't be surprised that happened to you with your lifestyle. Bound to happen sooner or later."

"My lifestyle? The one where I work seven days a week to support my kid by myself? You don't know shit about my fucking lifestyle, dad. Since we are gonna bring up lifestyles, let's bring up yours. You know, the one where you're a fucking deadbeat dad who works at a chicken processing plant. Or how about the one where you smoke dope with your kid,  fucking lame."

"I don't know why I bothered. You're still the same fucking prick you were at eighteen."

"You don't know a goddamn thing about me, you piece of shit." Krist hit the end button on his dial pad, immediately blocking his father's number and Facebook.