Similarities and Differences

I Won't Leave You

Friday, August 11

My dad asked me to go to his lake house up in Minnesota for the weekend, and to be honest, I had been so excited.

He's from Kansas City, so he decided to drive through Iowa to pick me up, which meant I spent four hours in the car with my father who I barely know. Alone. I was kind of nervous, as well.

He picked me up at my house around four after I dropped Ava off at my cousin's. Ava didn't really want me to leave her, but she likes Ronda and Ronda's kids, so it's fine. We fell into normal conversation on the way up there, which was really relieving because I'm kind of shy around people, even if I know them. He usually led the conversation though.

When we finally got to his nice little lake house, we sat down to have a soda because that was the only nonalcoholic drink he had in his house. We sat down on opposite ends of his couch in the living room.

"So what really got you into teaching?" he asked.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Like, why do you do what you do?"

I chuckled a little, but there wasn't much humor in my voice. "When I was in sixth grade, my mom was sick, I really started to struggle in school, so a teacher, Mr. Kraus, sat me down, and told me despite everything else going on, I had to push through it in order to get out of that town. I took in his words because I knew I didn't wanna end up like my mother, who was dying from liver cancer."

He didn't say anything for a while. "You used your pain to help others."

"I guess so."

"That's awesome." I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything. Then he asked, "How close were you to your mom?"

"Uhhh, well, when I was younger, I wasn't very close to her because she wasn't around a whole lot." I cleared my throat. "But when she got sick...we got closer as time went on because before she got sick, she loved alcohol more than she loved us." I stared straight ahead. He has a really nice fireplace in his house. I'm jealous.

"What do you mean she wasn't around?" He sounded concerned.

"I don't know, she just wasn't around a whole lot. I mean, she was home with us most of the time, but..."

"Was she good to you?" The eeriness of his voice freaked me out.

He had no right to ask that blunt of a question when he already knew the answer.

"Was she good to you?" I asked him. I mean, he was the one who left.

"Sometimes."

"Then why didn't you try to make it work?" It was my turn to be blunt.

"I didn't want to her to be the mother of my children."

What?

"Then why didn't you try to take me? Was I no longer your child? What about Stacey?" I may be quiet, but I can be sharp.

The truth is, this has been weighing on me for quite some time.

"I don't know." His eyes started to well up.

I forgot I have to spend the next two days with him.

"I just wanna know how you justified having so much money and such a good life when you knew you left two kids with a person who wouldn't treat them well. It was your mess to clean up, and you didn't. We could've lived with you and Anne in Kansas City, and maybe Stacey wouldn't have gotten in trouble." I couldn't talk anymore. I know saying these things cut him, and that hurt me. I know it's not his fault.

"I didn't have money at the time. I was young and I was selfish. There's not a day that I don't regret it, Steven. There is nothing I can do to make this better. And I am so sorry." I could tell he was on the verge of completely breaking down.

The conversation had gone so well tonight until now.

I took in deep breaths, trying to figure out how to talk with a steady voice. Finally, after a moment, I said, "I want to make this work. I really do, but at the same time, I'm trying to figure out how to understand why you left us. I mean, what happens if you decide I'm not good enough for you? Are you going to leave again?" My voice cracked again at the end. I decided to look at him. It's not like he didn't know how much it hurt me.

"No. I won't leave you, even if this gets tough." He sniffed a little. "Why do you still want to make it work after everything?"

"I could ask you the same question based off of your past," I said bitterly.

"I feel like I owe it to you," he said quietly.

"Are you doing this out of obligation?" I asked weakly. "If you are--"

"No, I want you."

"How do I know that you're not going to leave again?" I cupped my forehead, and stared down, giving up on holding back my tears. "I just don't want another parent who is in my life who doesn't..." I shook my head, and glanced at him, trying to read his eyes. He was crying, and I hate seeing people in pain.

"I won't leave you," he reached over, squeezing my arm. "I need you to trust that."

I took in a deep breath, clearing my throat. "I wanna move on and not focus on the past, but it's going to take a long time to gain that trust back. And I'm sorry for that. I still want to try to build on this though."

Then he stood up to give me a hug.