Breakthrough (4 page)

“There! See? Change of subject!” Marie shouted. She was getting excited, sitting up on her knees. It looked like she’d been waiting for this day her entire life. Rick and Doug only listened, taking in these scenes from a life gone wrong.

Seth grinned at her. “I noticed that, Marie. Try and take a breath. And yes, Jack, we’ll get to Rick’s addiction, but I think it’s good for him to see these dynamics and see what he comes from. I think it helps him to understand himself and, through that, helps him understand some of his motivations.”

Muttering under his breath, Jack said something that sounded a lot like “That makes sense.”

Looking like he was trying to suppress a smirk, Seth asked, “So, can you tell me what it was about those two situations in particular that made you cry?”

Jack rubbed his forehead with his knuckles before he answered. “I don’t know. It… they were both frustrating.”

Seth nodded, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I bet. But you’ve been in other frustrating situations, right? What about those two things made you so upset?”

Jack looked at Seth for a long moment, wanting to get up and walk away but knowing what kind of message it would send his son if he did. Instead he took a deep breath and tried to find the right words. The task felt impossible, all his thoughts jumbled together as he tried to speak around the knot in his throat. “I don’t know. I just… I couldn’t control anything, couldn’t help anything or make it right. We thought our son was dying, and I couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it. There was nothing. All we could do was wait and hope and… I’m not that guy. I make things fit, make them work, find the answer. I don’t wait and hope that someone else will find an answer for me.”

Doug bit his lip and looked like he wanted to hug Jack, but he also looked like he knew he might swallow his teeth if he tried. The room was silent for too long, and then Seth asked, “And coming out?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at the question. “Unless I’m misreading your T-shirt, I think you know why that was so hard.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear a muttered “deflecting” from Marie.

“I know why it was hard for me, but I wanna know why it was hard for you, Jack. So hard that it made you cry for the second time in thirty years.” Seth’s voice was soothing as he asked the question, but it still made Jack’s skin prickle with anxiety.

He inhaled deeply and let it out in a loud, long exhale. Jack closed his eyes as if he were telling himself for the first time as well. “I had tried my whole life to solve that puzzle. I had tried to find the one missing piece that would make me straight and make me normal and make me okay. I thought Marie was that piece for a while, and when she wasn’t, I thought maybe being a father was the piece and… I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was… I was inches away—heartbeats away—from just ending it all, giving up and doing myself in and… and coming out instead of throwing myself off a bridge seemed like the wiser choice.”

Poor Doug had inched closer. Jack could feel Doug’s hand on his shoulder, a warm weight, secure and full of comfort for him. Jack hated scenes like this, the ones where people bled out their emotions and made everyone feel awkward. He didn’t shake the hand off, though.

He opened his eyes again, looking at Seth. “And it fucked everything up. I broke Marie’s heart and nearly ruined my son and… it was selfish and stupid, and I should’ve just held out.”

“No you shouldn’t have.” Seth blurted the words so quickly, Jack wondered whether Seth had surprised himself when he said it. After a brief pause, Seth went on. “I mean, I’m not really here to tell you what to do or how to feel, but holding out wasn’t what you should have done. Think for one minute what Marie’s life would’ve been like, ten or fifteen years later, the two of you drifting and building resentment. When it ended—and it would’ve, eventually—when it ended, she might have closed herself off entirely to the idea of being with anyone else. Doug probably wouldn’t be part of her life. And Rick, seeing you two deteriorate, might’ve fallen faster and harder as he blamed himself. I mean… speculation and what should’ve or could’ve been is so not the right path to take here, but you’ve gotta know somewhere in there, under the guilt and the shame and the frustration, that you did the right thing. Or you wouldn’t have done it.”

Rick spoke up then. “Dad, did you think I started using because of you? Or you and Mom splitting up?” Jack shrugged, giving his son a look that said “of course.” Shaking his head, Rick told him, “I started using a year before you guys separated.”

“What? Why?” Jack’s shock registered in his voice.

Marie shook her head in disbelief, but she listened to her son.

“I don’t know. My friends were all drinking and smoking pot, so I tried it and I liked it, and when someone offered me coke, I tried it and I liked it. Just like everyone else I knew, but… they could put it down and I just couldn’t. I just wanted to feel like that all the time, and then when I started using meth it just….”

“Oh, Son.” Marie sniffled again, and Seth passed her a tissue from one of the many boxes around the room. She told Rick, “I had no idea.”

“Please don’t feel bad, Mom. I hid it really well. But… that’s part of why I wanted you guys to come today. I wanted you to know that. I want you to know that it’s nothing you guys did or didn’t do, and I wasn’t suffering some trauma over Dad coming out, or, I don’t know, I wasn’t molested or… anything. I just made shitty choices, and then I made some more, and then I couldn’t stop.”

“Jack?” Seth’s voice cut in softly, but instead of the other three looking at him, they all looked at Jack. “How does that make you feel? What Rick just said—how do you feel about it?”

Jack snorted a laugh, his tone mocking. “I always thought ‘How does that make you feel?’ was just a cliché about shrinks.”

Seth narrowed his eyes, but not in an unkind way. One corner of his mouth tilted into a small smile. “It’s a cliché for a reason. Stop deflecting.”

Jack couldn’t see Marie’s face, but he was sure she was smiling smugly at her new best friend, the hot drug counselor who wanted people to express themselves. He said quietly, “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” Seth’s voice was calm and patient as he waited for an honest response.

“I… Christ, I don’t want to share my feelings on this one, okay?” Jack let out a frustrated growl with his words.

“Why not?” Seth sounded like he was trying to settle a skittish animal. Which, in a way, he was.

Feeling defeated, Jack admitted, “Because. My first reaction, my first thought… makes me feel like an asshole.”

Again in that soothing tone, Seth asked, “Why?”

“God, you’re annoying, do you know that?” Jack asked, feeling a spark of anger and resentment over being pushed into this corner, wanting to lash out.

Seth’s smile turned bright, and he actually laughed. “So I’ve heard. Daily. And more colorfully.” He gentled his tone and asked again, “Why does it make you feel like an asshole?”

Letting out a gruff, exasperated breath, Jack scrubbed his hand over his face. “Because, okay? He’s nearly killed himself with that shit more times than I can count, and the last time he nearly killed his kids too.” Rick flinched at his father’s words, but he didn’t argue or deny anything, just listened. “It’s killed all of us in different ways. This addiction of his has left a trail of little fucking disasters, and it’s hurt him in ways I can’t even imagine. But my first thought? The first feeling I had? I was relieved! I was so goddamn relieved that it wasn’t me. That I hadn’t done anything, that I couldn’t have done anything different. I wanted to get on my knees and say a prayer of thanks to all the gods who would hear me. And what kind of an asshole response is that?”

He didn’t even realize he was crying until Doug passed him a box of tissues.

“I LOVE
you too, peanut.” Jack tied Lilly’s shoe for her, getting the kids ready to go home to their mother after another weekend. It had been over a month since his visit with his son and the best thing he could say about the time that had passed was he had finally stopped crying. For the most part. Almost. Well, okay, he had stopped crying all day at least.

Getting out of that room had felt like such a relief to Jack. But he had started crying again when he said good-bye to Rick. Then he cried on the drive home. And again the next day, when he said good-bye to Marie and Doug. And later that night as he watched television and one of those gut-wrenching cotton commercials came on. It was ridiculous.

He could feel the tears burning the backs of his eyes as he got the kids ready to go, and he wanted to kick something. Casey was gathering his things, and Lilly had wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck as he picked her up.

“I think Mommy’s gonna like the flowers we made her, Papa,” Casey said as he pulled on his backpack.

Jack glanced down at him. The kid looked so much like Rick had at that age, it sometimes felt like Jack had gone back in time twenty years. “I think so too, buddy. I bet she’ll show them off to all her friends.”

Casey grinned at him, looking at the colorful paper flowers the three of them had made together. Jack had never been much of an artist, but the children’s crafting segments on cable were one of the few things that didn’t have him bursting into tears like a pregnant woman. He was starting to wonder whether he’d had it wrong all this time and he wasn’t actually gay but rather a woman trapped in a man’s body. The thought had occurred to him as he wandered through the local scrapbooking store looking for just the right shade of pink paper to go with the glittery stickers he’d found.

HE MANAGED
to hold his emotions back until he was alone in his car again after meeting Shelley to drop off the grandkids.

Mindy had been waiting for him when he got back, and had brought over vegetable lasagna. The Sunday night dinners had become a routine for them, even though she was out with Mr. Wonderful nearly every other night of the week.

“You look like you’ve been crying again,” she told him as they walked inside together.

“I don’t know if it counts as ‘again’ when it’s more like one long crying jag with brief pauses for breath.”

“It hasn’t been that bad.” Mindy had already made her way to the kitchen. She pulled out plates and set them on the counter.

Jack picked a wine for them, saying, “Excuse me, but were you not here the other day when I was blubbering on your shoulder and telling you how much I love you and that you’re my best friend and that you’re such a great person and I should tell you that more often?”

Mindy looked at him over her shoulder and laughed. “I thought you were drunk.”

“Sadly, no. I was still coming down from my ‘breakthrough.’” He had to pause as he worked the especially difficult cork out of the wine bottle. With a grunt of irritation—at the wine bottle and at himself—he added, “God, what a ridiculous word.”

“Stop being such a douche. It was a breakthrough, and it’s not ridiculous. This…”—she waved her hand like she wasn’t sure what to call it—“crying thing you’ve got going on is probably just your body’s way of getting rid of a couple decades’ worth of toxic emotions. I bet you feel better already and just don’t want to admit it.”

“That’s exactly what the counselor said!” Jack couldn’t help but laugh as he added, “Well, not the part about me feeling better and not admitting it, but that toxic emotion stuff. He also told me I should avoid gluten and dairy until it passes.”

Mindy was serving up a big stringy, cheesy slice of the lasagna for him, practically giggling. “You should’ve mentioned that sooner.” As she plated the food, she glanced at him, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Are you still dreaming about him?”

“One dream. God, I never should’ve told you about that.”

“I believe your words were ‘highly erotic dream,’ if I recall correctly.”

Jack would’ve argued, but the food smelled too good. “No, just the one.” He didn’t bother to mention he’d used that one dream more than a few times when he needed a quick release that didn’t involve choking back tears.

They were both quiet for a moment as they sat down and took the first few bites of their dinner. Mindy was a hell of a cook. Whatever teasing he had to endure during a meal, she more than made up for it.

“I hope you’re cooking for Shawn. If you are, you should expect a proposal any day. This is incredible.”

Mindy beamed at him for that. “I have been cooking for him, as a matter of fact, but no marriage proposals yet. I think less than two months after the first date would be a tad soon.”

“You’re probably right, but he’s a fool not to try.” Jack could feel the tears trying to work their way out again. “God, what is the deal with this?” he asked, frustrated as he blotted his eyes with a napkin. “I’m gonna grow a uterus any day now.”

“That’s a bit misogynistic. Crying doesn’t make you any less of a man.” She didn’t sound bothered, but she had a point.

“Sorry. Christ. I’m all over the map these days. Weepy baby-man or Neanderthal. There’s no in-between.”

“What were you thinking about right before it hit you?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Which time?”

“This time, asshat.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He was going to let the little lie pass, picking at his food with his fork, but it occurred to him that maybe the way to get it to stop was to simply talk about his feelings. Oh God. “Okay, that’s not true.” Mindy looked at him curiously when he set his fork down and continued. “I was thinking about you going off and getting married and moving away, and I thought I’d miss you when that happens. There. Jesus.”

Giving him a half smile, she asked, “And how does it make you feel to talk about it?”

He could tell she was making fun of him, but he answered her anyway. “A lot better. So there.” He stuck his tongue out at her before picking up his fork again.

Mindy returned the gesture before saying, “Besides, you won’t have to miss me. I’ll still come over here when I want to escape ESPN.”

“You say that like I never watch sports.”

“I know you watch sports, but you record the games when we have plans instead of working our plans around the games.” She took a sip of wine and added, “God, maybe you are a woman. No man does that, gay or straight.”