Monty After Dark

Chapter 30

In the morning, I got up andwent downstairs. "Can I give you a ride to work?" asked my dad. Ididn't respond, just continued fixing my breakfast.

"First you complain that Idon't give a shit, and I'm trying here and you're ignoring me," hesaid.

"You can't just try some ofthe time. It shouldn't even be trying. You should be doing thesethings, being involved in my life because you want to, notbecause I yelled at you."

"Has it ever occurred to youthat I don't know how?" He swallowed really hard and looked away.He was ashamed. I felt guilty. I hadn't really thought of it thatway.

"Well, you can start bydriving me to work. And ... maybe swinging by Timmy's on the way?"I asked, shooting him a grin. "Everything bagel? Toasted with herband garlic cream cheese?"

"Alright," he said, gettingup from the table. We used to get those sometimes after hockey when Iwas little.

It was going to take a lot morethan a bagel to fix all the things that man had done wrong, but atleast this was something of a start. Well, until he finds out thatI'm trying to track down my mother. Maybe.

"Do you need me to pick you upafter work?" he asked, pulling up in front of the shop.

"Nah, going to meet up with afriend, I think," I said.

"A girl?" I looked at himsideways. "What? I haven't seen the revolving door of girls comingthrough lately, thought maybe you found one to settle down with. Thatgirl who came by the other night seemed nice?"

"Dad ... no. She's just afriend. I'll be fine." As I got out the of the truck, I leaned backin, "If you're not working on Sunday, we have a home game at 2:30."

"I'll be there," he said. Iclosed the door. I felt a little weird, but this was what I hadwanted, right? I wanted him to pay more attention to me? Treat melike a son instead of the neighbour's cat you're cat-sitting when youdon't even like cats.

Chan came to get me after work,and as soon as I slid into the front seat of the Mustang, I took herface in my hands and kissed her. Her face went red and she lookedaway.

"You're bad," she said,licking her lips and fixing her hair. "But I liked it."

We went inside and Chan askedwhat I wanted for dinner. Mrs. Murphy used to ask me that. I smiled.I thought Mrs. Murphy would like Chan, they would have had a riot,sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee.

"What are you smiling at?"she asked.

"You. I just was thinkingabout how Mrs. Murphy would have liked you."

She turned around and lookedright at me. "Thank you." Her eyes looked a little teary."Sorry," she said, wiping them with her sleeve. "I just ... Iknow how much you loved her, and that makes me feel really nice."

"Good. I used to love cominghere, she was a wonderful lady. I always felt safe here. To behonest, I was really afraid, when I saw that the house had sold. Ididn't know who was going to move in here. But I'm so very glad it'syou."

"Was there a Mr. Murphy?"she asked.

"He died before I was born.Mrs. Murphy had a son, too, older than my dad, but not too old. Hewas nice. Uncle Mike. He lives in Toronto now. He didn't come overthat much at the end, but she always made sure a bed was made up forhim. I think she missed him, and maybe that's why she loved me somuch."

"We are all such a bunch ofsad souls," Chan said, passing me the plates to set the table. Iliked that we had a routine.

"But at least we found eachother," I said, slipping an arm around her.