Father's Day

The incessant ring of the telephone awakened Brian. He looked at the clock and saw that it was eight-thirty in the morning. He wondered who in the fuck would be calling him at eight-thirty on a Sunday morning as he got up to go answer the phone, barely getting it before the answering machine.

“Someone better be dead,” he said as he ran a hand over his face.

“Happy Father’s Day,” Lindsay’s annoyingly cheerful voice came through the phone. Brian groaned, having forgotten all about this supposedly special day. It was his first official Father’s Day as a father. He’d been out at Babylon the night before so he was in less than a good mood.

“Why are you calling me now?” he asked.

“Because you need to come spend the day with your son,” Lindsay replied.

“Like he’s actually going to remember,” Brian said.

“You never know what he will and won’t remember, Brian. Now get your lazy ass over here.”

“I can’t,” he answered.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” she questioned.

“I mean, I can’t. At least…..not yet. I’ll come by after lunch.”

“Why can’t you come by now?”

“A: Because I need to take a fucking shower and have something to eat. B: Because I have something to do.”

“Something that is more important than spending time with your son on Father’s Day?” Lindsay asked. Brian could hear the anger in her tone and he could just see the look on her face.

“Fucking prick!” came from the background, obviously Melanie.

“Would you mind telling your lover to mind her own fucking business? Gus isn’t the only one with a father, you know.” He then hung up before either of them could say anything. Brian rubbed his hands over his face, then went to take a shower.

He got dressed in one of his white dress shirts and a pair of black slacks, making sure his hair was combed neatly. He threw on his black Armani jacket, though he wasn’t wearing a tie. Figuring he was already overdressed as it was, he grabbed his keys, got into the Jeep and left.

Jack Kinney had been admitted to the Forbes Hospice when his health started taking a serious downturn. Joan couldn’t afford to keep him in the hospital and she refused to accept any money from Brian. He’d even offered to pay for an in home nurse, but she refused. She wanted the cheapest care possible for her husband, reminding Brian exactly how much they loved each other.

It was just a fifteen-minute drive from the loft to the hospice but it seemed to take forever. Brian pulled into a parking space in front of the building and sighed, running a hand over his face. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, letting it out slowly. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to smoke in the building, and that he would desperately need a cigarette, so he decided to get it out of the way beforehand. Once the cigarette was finished, Brian got out of the Jeep, dropped the butt and ground it out with the toe of his shoe, then made his way inside.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked. She was a lovely young woman, probably mid twenties. She smiled brightly as if she didn’t work in a place where people came to die.

“I’m here to see Jack Kinney.” Brian cleared his throat, his voice having cracked for some unknown reason. He hadn’t been to see either of his parents since Jack had come, to make sure he didn’t tell his mother he was a fag so he had no idea what room the man was in.

“Are you family?”

“I’m his son,” Brian answered. The woman nodded and started typing something on the computer, then looked up at Brian.

“He’s in room 145. It’s down the hall, take a right at the end and it’ll be the third door on the left.” She pointed to the hall to Brian’s right.

“Thanks.” He nodded, then made his way down the hall. Little did he know that she watched him until he disappeared, then sighed when he was out of sight.

Brian made his way through the building trying not to peek into any of the rooms. The last thing he needed to see was someone else’s father or mother looking like they were about to keel over at any moment. He noticed that the door to room 145 was closed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then lightly knocked.

“Who is it?” a female voice said. It was Claire. Brian sighed; he didn’t want anybody to be there when he did this. He pushed the door open slightly and poked his head in.

“Just me,” he said and didn’t miss the scowl on his sister’s face.

“Sonny boy,” Jack managed, coughing a couple of times. Brian thought he saw a smile under the oxygen mask attached to the old man’s face, but he chalked it up to his imagination and came into the room.

“Heya, pop,” he said as he made his way over to the side of the bed.

“Come to wish your old man a Happy Father’s Day?” His voice was muffled because of the mask.

“Something like that.” Brian smiled slightly and Jack actually laughed. Brian decided it was the drugs they had him on. He was trying not to really see his father. The once strong, intimidating man he’d grown to hate was now weak and thin and frail looking. He could barely keep his eyes open as he looked between his two children, his gaze settling on Claire.

“You mind giving us a minute?” he asked her. She glared at Brian a minute, then left the room, shutting the door behind her. Brian had no doubt she was standing there trying to listen in.

“How you feeling?” Brian asked as he took a seat on the side of the bed, not wanting to sit down in the uncomfortable chair.

“Like a dying man,” Jack said honestly. Brian nodded. Even though he never really liked his father he was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that the man would not be around forever.

“I’ll be honest with you, pop, you look like shit.” Brian smirked and Jack laughed.

“I don’t understand why your mother and your sister insist on telling me I’m looking great when I know it’s a lie.”

“Maybe because they don’t like the idea that you’re sick.” Brian refused to meet his father’s gaze when he said that.

“Seems like you’re not exactly happy with it either.”

“I guess I’m not, really. I mean……as much as you tell yourself you hate someone, you never really want them to die.” He still couldn’t meet his father’s gaze.

“You hate me?” Jack asked. He’d taken the oxygen mask down since it wasn’t needed at the moment. Brian finally looked the older man in the eyes and he thought he saw a bit of pain there.

“You hate me so I figured I should return the favor.” There was the tiniest hint of anger in Brian’s voice as he said it.

“I guess you’d think that, wouldn’t you?” This time Jack looked away.

“What else was I supposed to think, pop? You told me on a daily basis that I never should have been born. That I was a mistake. You hit me. Nothing I ever did was good enough for you until I got a fancy job and could give you money on a regular basis so that you could spend it on booze and gambling. And then when I tell you I’m gay, you tell me I should be the one that’s dying. So what am I supposed to think?” Brian was standing at this point and almost yelling. He expected Claire to come barging in at any minute.

“I never meant any of it, sonny boy. I was drunk most of the time I said it.”

“I know what happens when you’re drunk, pop. You don’t say anything you don’t mean. Being drunk gives you the courage to say the stuff that you’re too chicken shit to say when you’re sober.” Brian glared down at the man on the bed. Jack simply sighed. After a minute, Brian took a shuddering breath, mentally cursing himself that his emotions were getting through. “Did you ever, at any point in my life, even come close to loving me?” Jack continued to look away.

“You’re going to believe what you want so it doesn’t really matter what I say.”

“I’ll believe you if you tell me the truth. It’s just us. Nobody else will know. You can drop the bullshit bravado and ‘I have no feelings because I’m a real man’ routine for the few seconds it takes to answer the fucking question.” Jack turned to look at his son. Just as Jack was opening his mouth to answer the question, Claire came back into the room.

“Okay, the nurse says it’s time for daddy to rest.” She glared at Brian again.

“Could you give us just five more minutes?” Brian returned the glare.

“Nope, daddy has to rest,” she said and Brian actually saw the corners of her mouth twitch. She had been listening in and barged in at that moment on purpose.

“And we of course have to do exactly what Saint Claire says, don’t we?” Brian said through clenched teeth.

“Not my doing, Brian. The nurse said that it’s time for daddy to rest. I just came in to get my things and I’m going too. Now come on.” She had picked up her purse and the small bag she’d carried in with her. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to leave until Brian did. She leaned over and kissed Jack’s cheek.

“I’ll see you later, pop,” Brian said as he turned to walk out the door.

“Later, sonny boy,” Jack replied. Claire followed, shutting the door behind her.

“You’re a fucking cunt, you know that?” Brian ground out as his sister started to walk away.

“And you’re a fucking faggot,” she threw over her shoulder. It took every bit of strength Brian had to keep from running and tackling her. He started to turn to go back into the room but a nurse just down the hall shook her head at him. He sighed, then left, wondering if he would ever get the answer to his question. He looked at his watch and realized that it wasn’t even eleven yet.

“That should make the munchers happy,” he said to himself as he got into the Jeep. He made his way to their house and sat out in the driveway for a minute, having another cigarette. He completely understood why he wasn’t allowed to smoke around Gus and had no problem following that rule.

Lindsay looked out the window and saw the Jeep parked out front and wondered why Brian was just sitting there. She placed Gus in his swing, then made her way out to the front porch. Before she could take three steps Brian held up the cigarette in his hand. She simply nodded, then turned and went back inside, smiling slightly.

“He planning on coming in some time today?” Melanie asked angrily.

“He’s finishing a cigarette,” Lindsay answered.

“Nice to know he’s following at least one of our rules.”

“Whether you believe it or not, Melanie, Brian does actually care about his son.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said, then walked into the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, Brian came in the door.

“Hey,” Lindsay said with a smile. Brian smiled back and came over to pick up Gus. Lindsay could tell that there was something wrong simply by the way Brian was holding Gus close. “What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, looking at Gus rather than her.

“Don’t bullshit me, Brian. What is it?” She had a sneaking suspicion she knew, but she wasn’t sure. Brian sighed and sat down beside her on the couch, his attention still on Gus.

“I went to see my dad.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Bad. They say he hasn’t got much longer. He looks like shit. He’s practically a skeleton.” Brian sniffled against his own better judgment. Lindsay put a hand on his back and rubbed gently.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Brian simply nodded. He reached up and wiped at the corners of his eyes, hating that his emotions were getting the best of him. He was just thankful that Melanie wasn’t in the room to see it. She’d never let him live it down. "What happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?" Brian wasn't looking at her.

"Something happened while you were there and don't tell me it didn't."

"I asked him if he ever loved me."

"What did he say?"

"He didn't get a chance to answer. Cunt Claire came in before he could." Brian sighed.

"She's a bitch," Lindsay said and Brian nodded. They sat there in silence for a minute.

“Do you think Gus will hate me?”

“All teenagers hate their parents,” she said with a smile.

“That’s not what I mean, Linds and you know it. I mean……I’m not here a lot of the time, and it’s not always because I don’t want to be. I don’t see that Mel and me fighting in front of him all the time is a good thing for him. That’s why I stay away. But…..what if he hates me because I stay way?”

“Gus will never hate you,” Lindsay assured him. She’d never seen Brian so emotionally open before.

“How can you say that?” he asked as he looked back down at Gus. “How can you know?”

“Because despite all your efforts, you love your son. You’d do anything for Gus. You actually want him in your life, even though you thought you wouldn’t, and you love him and he’s going to know that, even if you can’t see him all the time.” She smiled and Brian looked up, smiling at her. They shared a quick kiss and Brian looked back down at his son. At that moment he vowed that he would never get asked the question that he asked his own father that day. Gus would never in his life have to question if Brian ever loved him.

Return to Rena's