The Reunion

This whole block is a wind tunnel, he thought, as he stood outside of a fairly new apartment building. He knew he shouldn't be there…knew how she would react. However, he had to try and make her listen to him–somehow.

He had been waiting a full 10 minutes, hoping someone would open the door so he could sneak inside. He sipped his black, yet sweet, coffee as he peaked at the sun overhead. The coffee wasn't helping. The weather was neither cold nor warm, humid nor dry, but it was windy and he considered busting out hand warmers.

Finally, a tall gentleman held the door open for his wife and son. The man stated, “I got it”, grabbing the door as the young son, holding his mother’s hand, chatted excitedly about his class spelling bee. The tall gentleman gave the man a grateful smile before taking his son’s other hand.

The man grinned fondly at the happy family before slipping easily through the entrance. He checked out the lobby. It was small with no concierge service, which was a blessing for him. He didn't mind security, but he knew he would have been kicked out on sight. He didn't want that aggravation–he wanted to talk with her.

After throwing away his coffee cup in the trash receptacle, he sat stiffly on the firm couch, humming a soothing tune as he waited for her to come down. He had no idea what her schedule was like, but he couldn't imagine she would already be at work so early in the morning. He also didn’t want to wait 3 hours for her. He didn't want to seem suspicious.

Announcing someone on the floor, an elevator chimed as it opened. Exiting the elevator was a woman. She’s dressed to jog and wearing earbuds, which meant she had a phone somewhere on her person. As she’s about to exit the building, the man called to her.

“Oh, excuse me, Miss.”

Taking off her earbuds, she replied, “Yes?” She turned slowly to meet eye contact with the man who just spoke to her. Gasping, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Please, just hear me out.”

“No! We said everything we needed to say a long time ago.”

“Look, just let me explain.”

“Explain?” She shook her head. “What needs to be explained?”

He sighed, looking defeated. “A lot of things. Look, can we just talk? Right here. These seats feel mighty comfortable.”

“I’m about to go for a jog. I don't have a lot of time.” She paused. “Wait...how did you get inside anyway?”

“Someone let me in. Nice neighbors you have here.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“More like naïve neighbors. Okay, fine. Five minutes.”

“Thank you.” Patting the seat next to him, he stated, “Sit down.”

“I’ll stand, thank you.”

“This will be easier if you sit down.”

Grudgingly, she made her way to the couch, but seated herself on the opposite end, creating a space between them.

“Happy now?” she asked.

He sighed. “No, not really. That’s why we need to talk.”

“Stop. That’s why YOU need to talk. Keep it on the ‘I’.”

“What?” He knew she hadn't just tried to correct him.

“You can't speak for anyone but yourself, so use ‘I’ statements.”

Laughing, the man joked, “So, you’re a therapist now?”

“No,” she responded. “But thanks to you, I see one every week.”

“Ouch. That’s fair,” he answered, noting her sarcasm.

“So, what do you have to say?”

“I want to explain why I haven't been around all these years.”

“Hmm, you haven't been around because...you went to prison.”

“I was released ten years ago.”

Caught off guard, she whispered, “Ten years ago?” Then, shaking her head, she said, “Oh, then guilt. Are you done?”

Having enough of her attitude, the man screamed, “No...NO...I am NOT done.” Then, remembering his own therapy sessions, he took a mindful breath before replying. “Let me finish, without interruptions.”

She rolled her eyes, but she also nodded.

“Thank you. I am sorry. I am so sorry for what I did to you, to us. I never meant to hurt anyone. I just want to move on with my life, but it feels like I just can't.”

“Well, who’s fault is that?”

“Please. There’s nothing I can do to change the past, but I want to make amends with you.”

She stared at the man for a full sixty seconds. It seemed like it took time for her to process what he said. The moment she realized what he was trying to do, her anger became a fiery inferno. She stood and confronted him face-to-face.

“See,” she started, “That’s the problem, Dad. You can't. I can never forgive you for what you did.”

“Baby girl…”

“No!” He wasn't the only one not tolerating interruptions. “I am not your ‘baby girl’. That was Layla. She was your baby girl...and you killed her.”

Not wanting to hear the truth, not wanting this confrontation, he told her, “Stop it…”

“You killed her. And Tommy. And Mommy. You killed them, Dad. You killed our family.”

“Stop it…”

“And they are never coming back. No matter how much time you spent in prison. No matter how long I stayed with Aunt Heather & Uncle Brandon. No matter how much time has passed, they are never coming back!”

No longer able to handle her anger, he shouted, “Stop it!”

“Why?! You can't deal with the truth?” She paused, taking a deep breath. “You have the nerve to visit me and bring back all of these painful memories, and you can't handle the fallout?! Oh fucking well!”

Never one to tolerate disrespect, he warned her. “Watch your tone and your language. I’m still your father.”

Rolling her eyes, she laughed, nearly hysterical. “Really?! You weren't there for my proms, my graduations. Hell, you didn't even pay for my college education. Aunt Heather & Uncle Brandon did, before they died. Where were you when I needed you...in prison...because you don't know how to deal with shit. Yes, I will curse because I’m pissed. I was having a good morning...a good life...before you showed up.”

The man froze. The silence was deafening. He knew he would never get another chance to ask for forgiveness. Maybe he didn't deserve it.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. I am so sorry.”

“Haven't we been through this already?! I can't handle any of your sorries…your regrets. You have to deal with the fact that your drunk driving killed our family.”

No longer able to hold back her tears, the woman, his only living relative, made her escape to the elevator. As the elevator chimed, the man was left all alone, crying, hanging his head down in shame.