“How have you been since we ran into each other?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’m taking it day by day, you know?”
I nodded and reached over to ruffle my son’s hair. “Sometimes, that’s all you can do. That’s what I’ve been doing since Anna’s passing.”
“Oh, my God. I feel horrible for not offering my condolences.”
I waved her off dispassionately. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. Honestly, I prefer you didn’t. Every ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ reminds me of what I lost. I’d rather move on and focus on the future.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“It’s easy to say but difficult to live by, if that makes sense, but a part of me started grieving Anna as soon as the doctors told me there was a near-zero percent chance she would recover after the hit and run. I have no choice but to move forward. I need to be a father to my son and a leader to the people.” My eyes strayed down to my son in her lap. “Unfortunately, I feel that I’m faltering on the father side.”
She narrowed her eyes curiously. “What would make you say that?”
“I’m stretched thin because of my campaign and responsibilities. I feel that I’m giving my son 10% and everyone else 90%.”
“My dad sometimes felt the same when he was close to burning out.”
“What did he do to keep his head above water?”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Disclaimer: don’t take what I’m about to say as wise advice or model your life after my dad, but he’d hunker down and work his ass off until he had nothing left to give. I remember times when he wasn’t as present. We had many breakfasts and dinners without him, or he would sneak into our events in the last quarter or during the last heat.” She laughed softly and continued. “There was this one time Dad took all of us kids to the movies to spend time with us and give my mom a break. We were thrilled, you know? We had our dad and those expensive-for-no-damn-reason snack packs, and as kids, that was all you could ask for.”
“I imagine the snack packs were purchased to keep your father’s sanity intact. Five children to a large popcorn bucket sounds like Hell on Earth.”
“There were seven of us.” I raised a brow. “Sorry, Nori and Ronan.”
I held back my scoff.
They’re just one big happy fucking family, aren’t they?
“There’s no need to apologize. I think it’s amazing how your two families have melded together. I’m a little jealous. I didn’t have that growing up, and because of some archaic feud amongst the bloodlines, it was just my father and me,” I said sarcastically.
“Let me guess, one sibling inherited this, that, and the third, and the other sibling felt slighted because their parents made itclear their entire life who their favorite child was, and that was the last straw,” she replied, equally sarcastic.
I smirked. “Tale as old as time. But back to you and your six siblings,” I urged.
“Right. Where was I?” she asked while absentmindedly smoothing my son’s hair down.
“Snack packs.”
“Oh, right. The lights had barely dimmed when we realized Dad passed out. We screwed with him for a few minutes, throwing popcorn and candy at him until the movie began. When the movie ended, he jolted out of his seat, turned to us, and said, ‘That was the best movie I’ve seen all year.’”
“Did you all call him out on his lie?”
She shook her head. “Nah. We knew how tired he was. The important thing to us was that he made the effort to be there. He may not have always been present, but he was there.”
“Is that the moral of the story—not present, but there?”
“The moral of the story is that children are more perceptive than you think and are capable of empathy and grace, even from a young age. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“But wouldn’t you argue that your ability to give grace and show your father empathy was because you had a support system?”
She opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut as she contemplated her response.
“There’s truth to your statement. His absence was easier to manage when we had each other and our parents and grandparents.”
“Sadly, I only had my father, and I’m saying that very loosely, and now my son only has me. I’m afraid that history will repeat itself.”