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“You were always sensitive, kid. I didn’t know quite what to do with you sometimes to be honest. Always thought it was because I let your mother name you after that poet instead of an Oriole like the others. You know, it wasn’t the sensitive part so much as the fact that when you were seven years old you were already smarter than your old man. Your straight-talking little sister was sure right about that.”
“Dad…”
“Just lemme get this out, and then if you want to kick my ass out of here, you can do it. Or you can let that nice fella downstairs do the job for you. Sure he’d like to. Can’t say I blame him, to be honest.”
“Alright.”
“On that day when you were eleven, I sent you out there to tie those knots because I was half off my ass drunk. Couldn’t see straight, and I was trying to hide it. It was the last time I fell off the wagon. I couldn’t have tied those knots to save my life. Your mama asked me to go do it, and there was no way I could, so I sent you. You. Not your brothers. They couldn’t tie a knot for shit.
“When it all went wrong you wouldn’t stop crying. Saying it was all your fault. Saying you ruined everything, but all three of your brothers—they were just as boneheaded as me, even back then—they always wanted to protect you. They got the idea of telling you that you didn’t ruin everything. All you did was save the pickles.”
Dylan choked on a watery laugh. “That’s why they used to tell me their favorite food was pickles all the time. Honestly… I just thought they were just shitting on me.”
“I reckon I can’t lie to you, there was a lot of that too. We shouldn’t have let this go on so far.”
“It’s okay—”
“It’s not though. Some of the stuff I’ve said and they’ve said. We’ve made it worse for you, haven’t we?”
“Sometimes.”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, son. It took that ball-busting sister of yours coming out and calling us on it for it to get even a little better on that subject too. We know that.” He patted Dylan’s shoulder and stood. “I won’t keep you anymore. Just also wanted to tell you how much we like your man. Even though he yelled at us. Fighting for the people we love is the Gallagher family way, after all.”
“Oh—he doesn’t. I mean, he hasn’t said… so, I don’t know that he…” Dylan crumbled his napkin into a ball. “I think it’s too soon to say that, Dad.”
“Now see that there.” His dad snapped him to attention the way he did when he’d been a kid.
“What?” Dylan looked around, not knowing what his dad was talking about.
“You saying that. Now that’s you just being stupid. All the rest of the stuff was just us being stupid.”
Dylan huffed in amusement. “Okay. Uh, thanks? I guess.”
His dad did a quick scan of the room. “Bring me the keys to this place when you go on your trip out to California. I’m going to get a little more work done on it while you’re gone, okay? Everything you’ve done so far looks great. And… ask that man if he’ll let me take another look at what’s going on in his place too.”
“I really can get it all done.”
“I have no doubts that you could, but Sean’s my brother. I love him.” He reached forward, and instead of patting Dylan’s shoulder again, he rapped his scarred knuckle on the table a few inches from Dylan’s hand. “Don’t forget to ask him if he’s okay with me and my guys doing some work down there myself while you’re out of town.”
“Sure, I’ll ask him.”
The front door opened and closed.
Dylan stared forward for a long while afterward.
When Derek came back, he brought Gus with him and sat down next to Dylan on the couch. “You okay?”
“I think so.” Dylan put the remains of his second Crunchwrap down and wiped his mouth.
Derek spoke before Dylan could. “You were right about the Adderall. I’ve basically gone down an internet rabbit hole about ADHD today. Figured I should know more…”
Dylan pulled Derek into a kiss. It wasn’t a casual kiss, but it wasn’t a long one either. He tried to put a lot of real, honest things into the kiss, but it didn’t seem adequate. What his dad said about Derek loving him was still echoing in his head.
“What was—”
“I-I never thought I’d be with someone who would react to me being such a jerk by d-doing something sweet like researching ADHD and my meds instead of…” His voice broke on the last word. “Thank you.”
“It’s not a big deal.”