Solitary Man(48)
Author: Carly Phillips

It took Max forever to pull on a pair of jeans and an old shirt, and by the time he sauntered back into the kitchen, Kevin had two cups of coffee ready and waiting.

“Have a seat, Dad. It’s black. Just the way you like it.”

Max threw himself into a chair.

“It’s Monday. Don’t you have to be at work?” Kevin asked, although he already knew the answer.

“I quit.”

“More like you were fired,” he muttered. He’d followed up on Max’s last job and learned his father hadn’t been a reliable employee. No big surprise there. “They needed someone who’d actually show up for work.”

Max shrugged. “So now I have more free time.”

“How are you going to pay your rent? Buy food?” Buy alcohol, Kevin thought bitterly.

“You always come through for your old man.”

Yes, he had. And he hadn’t done either of them any good. But at least Max had just given him the opening he sought. “And why do you think I do that?” Kevin asked his father.

“Because I gave you life and you owe me,” Max muttered. “Coffee tastes like mud.”

“That’s the cotton in your mouth from last night’s binge. I do it because you’re my father… and I love you.” Once the words escaped his lips, Kevin realized it hadn’t been as difficult as he’d anticipated.

Caught off guard, Max lowered the mug from his lips and it hit the table with a thud, sloshing liquid over the rim and onto the white Formica top. Kevin resisted the urge to wipe it up. It wasn’t his mess.

“You’re… I mean… you’ve been a good son,” Max muttered, and Kevin understood how difficult even those words had been for his father.

The ones Kevin was about to say were even tougher because, though he didn’t know it, he was about to give Max cause to rethink his opinion.

“Things have to change, Max.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Max yawned. “Are you through? I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Kevin shook his head. “I’m not through. I’m going to be a father. You know what that means?”

“You weren’t using protection?” Max said and laughed at his own bad joke.

“It means you’re going to be a grandfather.”

The rewording of the news seemed to take Max by surprise. He sat back in his seat and eyed Kevin in silence.

“I’d like you to be a better grandfather than you were a father, but that’s up to you. Whether you see your grandchild or not, that’s up to me.” Kevin pushed his seat back and stood. “From here on in you’re on your own. I’m not paying your rent and I’m not leaving food in the fridge.”

“You’ve said that before. You’ll always be there for your old man.”

He shook his head. “Wrong. I never had anyone else relying on me before. Now I do.” He had Nikki and he had a baby on the way. He’d do whatever it took to keep them in his life, even if it meant cutting Max out until he caught on to the concept of sobriety. Hell, at this point, even if he didn’t have Nikki or the baby, he’d had enough. He wanted his life back.

“It’s the end of the month and rent’s due by the fifteenth. I suggest you call on your employer. I talked him into giving you one more shot if you want it. That choice is up to you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t test me or you’ll find yourself out on the street.” Kevin’s heart thudded inside his chest. He knew the phone calls that would come, the pleas for money, the guilt because his father had no food in the refrigerator. He didn’t know how he’d get through it.

Yes, he did. Nikki. If she hadn’t washed her hands of him completely, she’d support him through this. And if she had, well, he’d see himself through. Either way, Max sobered up or Kevin was finished.

Max stood, shock rendering him mute. Kevin had never been this adamant before, and Max knew it. So did Kevin. Max also knew there were other people at stake now.

Knowing he had only one thing left to say, and knowing it was Max’s only hope, he handed him the pamphlets and papers Nikki had given him on treatment programs for alcoholics. “Take this. Consider it my parting gift,” Kevin said. “Read it and think about it. But don’t call me or come looking for me unless you’ve cleaned up.” Kevin started to leave, Max’s curses and words following him out the door.

“Bring a kid into this world and look at the thanks I get. You’ll remember this day when your kid turns its back on you.”

He gripped the doorknob with sweaty palms. “With a lot of effort, I hope that won’t happen.”

“What goes around comes around, sonny. And remember, when you look in the mirror, you’re just like me.”

“That remains to be seen,” Kevin muttered. He turned back once more. “You’ve got a family waiting—if you want one,” he said to his father, then shut the door behind him.

Half an hour later, Kevin pulled up to the precinct. He might as well face all his demons at one time. If he wanted his job back, he had to ask.

But first he had to face why he’d walked out on it in the first place. Tony’s death and fear. Fear of being responsible for and to another human being. A job as a security consultant left him responsible for property, something he could handle, though it left him cold and empty and unfulfilled.

He glanced at the black and white patrol cars lining the street. Was he ready to ride in one again? To back up a partner? To be responsible?

And remember, when you look in the mirror, you’re just like me.

Kevin stepped out of the car. “I’m nothing like you, Max.” And as he spoke the words, he knew for the first time that he spoke the truth.

The differences between Kevin and Max were more glaring than the similarities. While Max cared for nothing but himself and his next drink, Kevin was the opposite. If anything, he cared too much. Which was why he’d left a job he loved—because he’d failed his responsibilities and couldn’t live with the fear that he was like Max, no good at caring for anyone but himself.

He’d live with Tony’s death for the rest of his life, but he couldn’t accept full responsibility any longer, nor could he let it run his life. Tony wouldn’t have wanted him to eat, sleep and breathe guilt. Neither did those Tony had loved.

Like Nikki.

He loved her, but instead of showing her, he’d driven her away. All because he’d been too focused on his shortcomings and not on his potential. Because he’d been too busy trying to be responsible in a backward way that hurt, not helped everyone involved.