15 Chapter 15

I want to be close to him, too. There’s so much more to him than what he projects.

“How was your old man?” Myles asked. “Anything like mine?”

“No, he was kind, I guess. Good to us when he was home. But he never was.”

“Well, maybe that’s why he was good to you. Maybe he knew staying away was the best thing for you all.”

I don’t remember Dad having a violent streak.

“How about your mom,” I said, pouring more wine into our glasses. It was getting dark outside, the alley turning quiet and it was a good time for confessions and secrets. “Are you two close?”

“My mom had a stroke last year. She’s only forty-five years old, but she’s in a home now. My sister put her there.” Myles quickly took a good gulp of his wine and leaned back in his seat. Clearly, this was a painful topic. “I don’t really have the means to take care of her right now ‘cause my salary sucks and I have a roommate and a lot of debts.”

“I’m sure she’s getting the care she needs.”