Sin-bin

Chapter 27 - Dallas

Although I live relatively close to my family, I rarely get to drive up there and spend time with them. It might only be a two-or-so-hour drive, but it's not worth it if it's a one-day trip—there and back in 24 hours. I don't even have a car, so most of the time, Dad has to come and get me, which also blocks my ability to see them all.

Thanksgiving break this year is longer. And the Leaf is never open the week of Thanksgiving or Christmas—and not on new years eve—so I finally have an adequate amount of time to justify making Dad drive down to get me. Though I should be using this time off to catch up on homework that is piling and piling as we reach the end of the semester, I instead use it to catch my Dad up on all the tea that I can remember has happened since the last time I've seen him.

Realistically, Dad is the only family member who has been there for me in my life. He was the opposite of my mom. Where she was fun and loud and narcissistic, a classic popular mean girl in high school, my dad was not. He was a basketball player, sure, but he was shy and reportedly struggled with attention. They were the definition of opposites attract, though they proved how that might not be a good thing. Mom was Dad's first everything. First kiss, first time having sex, first girlfriend, first mother of his child, first marriage, and first love.

He could never control her, though. When she found out she was pregnant with me, it took master mind manipulation to convince her to keep me. She wanted to be a normal teenager and get high and fuck around, not get tied down with a kid. But Dad must've said something, did something, because she relented and kept me. That was the only time she ever listened to him. She didn't stop smoking or drinking while she was pregnant like he begged. She refused to live in his parent's house, mainly because it was obvious they hated her. She refused to name me Carter like he begged to, after his own grandfather. She refused to get married in a small courthouse wedding like Dad wanted.

I don't think their relationship was ever stable or good. Stories remind me how toxic love can be and how toxic mom was. She was loud, always screaming at Dad about something. She got violent, throwing things at him or slapping him around. She was a shitty mom who hated that she was a mom despite how happy it made dad to see us getting along. She was the worst thing to ever happen to him.

It was because she was the worst thing that could happen to me, too, that he finally realized it was never going to be like he wanted. It was when she left me alone, three years old, in a shitty trailer on the outskirts of town with no air conditioning and no supervision, to go get her hair and nails done, and Dad came home to me in heat stroke that Dad decided it was over. She was not fit to be a mom, and he couldn't let me keep being in danger because of her. He used every penny in his account to file for divorce and custody.

Arguably, it is good most of the time that courts are biased to give the mothers majority custody of their children. Statically, it's the better choice. It was not in my case, though. She was given partial custody which meant i spent every other month at her place. It was horrible, from what little I could remember. It was smelly and hot, and she was never home. By that point, she had started meddling in drugs beyond marijuana.

Dad kept fighting though. And used my mother's failed drug test from a job interview to gain full custody, with only visitation rights to her. Mom was mad, but Dad was my hero. He always has been. So tough and resilient but held me tightly with calloused hands when I cried. He tried to get off work for every event, even if it was a fucking shitty Christmas recital. He used his hard-earned earnings to buy me books and colored pencils. He taught me how to drive a car way too young and let me have my first sip of beer.

He is my rock, and he has always been, even when he got Marissa pregnant and married her at a beautiful backyard wedding. Even when both of my grandparents disregarded me as the spawn of satan. Even when Jamie was born, the family dynamic changed. He still tried to use every opportunity to show me he loved me and cared.