A Cross to Bear

by Julieanne Lynch

  The swim down gave me the chance to enjoy the surrounding water. My legs ached, my shoulders throbbed, but nothing could ever take my love of the water away from me. It was where I was at my happiest. Nothing could invade those moments as I glided up and down the pool.

  The only thing that pulled me from the moment was the sound of the whistle and the end of the first training session of the day. I got out of the pool and gathered my equipment. I head straight toward the locker room.

  “Belanger,” coach called.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, and turned to face him.

  “Good times today. Keep it up,” he said in an emotionless tone.

  “Thank you, sir.” I hurried off to shower and get ready for class, before trying to grab something to eat on the way.

  “Man, you pushed hard in there,” Drake remarked, zipping up his jeans.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “It’s so weird. I kinda get lost in the zone.”

  “You’ll be killing it once we start competing.”

  Drake was a good swimmer, but his confidence needed serious work. He was changing fast. Although I was getting to know him, it wasn’t my style to intrude or probe too much.

  “Boys, we are signing the new pledges this weekend. Be at the house by six p.m. on Saturday,” Ethan said before he left the locker room.

  Tommy nodded at us and said nothing.

  Though I found that weird, I never bothered asking. I wasn’t in the mood for his spiel. If anything unsavory popped up, I’d change my mind fast.

  “Breakfast?” Drake asked.

  Glancing at my watch, I sighed. “Yeah, but it has to be quick. I’ve a class in twenty minutes.”

  “I’m sure we can devour plenty of cereal, eggs, hash browns and coffee before classes begins.”

  He was right. We raced to the dining hall just in time to stuff our faces.

  I then made it to my physics class moments before the professor started his lecture.

  “We’ll be watching a video today in class,” he said.

  “Ugh,” I complained to myself. A video was a sure-fire way to send me off to sleep. The dull voice of the narrator began talking about God knows what. It wasn’t long before I found myself fighting to keep my eyes open.

  Warm and comfortable, I fell asleep. I swore I only slipped off for a second. The lights flickered on, and I heard the professor say, “That’s it for today. Check with my TA, Clark, for this week’s assignment.”

  “Did I miss much?” I asked the girl sitting next to me.

  She shook her head and smiled. “No. I wish I’d joined you. It was snore worthy.”

  “Saved by my own exhaustion,” I joked.

  I grabbed my backpack and headed off to get coffee, because coffee was going to be my savior. I followed the same pattern throughout the day. After evening practice, I was so beat that skipping dinner crossed my mind. Until the hunger pangs made themselves known. I rushed to the dinner hall before it closed, filling my plate with pasta, bread and fruit. I saw Spence and Drake and joined them at their table.

  “Man, I am so goddamned tired,” I said as I ate.

  “You look beat, man,” Spence said. “Almost as bad as him.” He pointed at Drake, who was busy finishing his plate and giving Spence the birdie.

  “So I hear you’re pledging for GAP this weekend.”

  “Yup. I figured since you two jocks are pledging, they’ll need some brains to go with all that brawn,” he replied. “And besides, I’m kinda hurt that you never mentioned this to me.”

  “It happened a little too fast, but please accept my apologies,” I said, winking at him. “Seriously, are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Hey, don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy who can handle himself.” The fact that he was so arrogant was an actual virtue of his.

  I laughed and shook my head. “Yup, that’s until you need a lady to walk you home when you’re over the limit.”

  “Hey, that’s my game plan, or didn’t you notice?”

  “Yeah, they’re lining up outside our room, fighting over you.”

  “What can I say?” he said, tapping his chest. “I’m a babe magnet.”

  “I’m calling bullshit,” Drake piped in.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Spence held up his hand to Drake. “Anyway, where did you disappear to last night?”

  “I met up with Bree. We went to the movies, grabbed something to eat and came home. Why?”

  “Oh, Bree,” Spence said, raising his eyebrows. “Did you bang her?”

  “Aww, man, don’t lower the tone,” I said, trying not to give anything away.

  “Did she at least let you cop a feel?”

  “What happens between me and my woman is my business.”

  “Your woman, huh?” Drake said with a smile. “So, it’s official? You two are exclusive?”

  “Man, a week in, and he’s already got himself a hottie.” Spence high-fived me.

  “Keep it clean, boys,” I said, pointing my finger at them.

  “Yeah, whatever you say.” Spence tried to hide his desire to laugh.

  “Anyway, I’m off. I need to get some study done, make a few calls, and get ready to do it all again tomorrow.”

  “See you in the morning,” Drake said.

  “I’ve a few things to do,” Spence announced. “I’ll catch you later, bro.”

  I nodded and left the dining hall, mentally preparing myself to hit the books.

  * * * *

  By Wednesday evening, I was on edge. It had everything to do with seeing my father, but I would never admit that to the world. For someone who had so much control over everything else in his life, I managed to fall to pieces whenever my dad decided to show up.

  I had a lot to thank him for, but so much more to hate him for as well. I gave him his due, however. He’d never once missed a birthday or Christmas. He’d also made sure we had a roof over our heads, even though his visits were infrequent. When he did come to see us, he also treated my mother with respect.

  Spence sat in silence, watching me pace the floor of our room. “Man, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just family stuff.”

  “Whoa, like serious stuff?”

  I stopped pacing and ran my hands through my hair. “My dad.”

  “The deadbeat who’s not so much in your life?”

  “Yup, that would be the one, except he’s not exactly so deadbeat,” I confessed.

  “So what’s happening?”

  “He called me over the weekend. Told me he was in town and wants to meet me tonight for dinner.”

  “What? He’s coming here to campus?” Spence sounded surprised.

  “No,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “He’s having me picked up.”

  “Wait a minute.” A look of confusion spread across his face. “He’s having you picked up?”

  “Yup. I don’t want him showing up here and making a scene, so I suggested meeting him. But no, he insisted on having me collected like some kid who can’t be let out on his own.” The anger was hard to contain. Mixed in with the irritation was a whole new level of anxiety.

  “You need to relax,” Spence said. “Seriously, getting all worked up isn’t going to do you any good.”

  “I know, but it’s kinda hard not to. Shit, the car’s here,” I replied, looking out of the window to find the vehicle parked outside.

  “Good luck, but try not to get into any kind of altercation. You know your pretty face doesn’t need to be spread all over the papers.”

  “Hey, not what I need.” I picked up my wallet, keys and cell before I left the room, making my way to the car. Part of me wanted to stand him up, but I wasn’t six years old anymore. I couldn’t get away with acting like a child either.

  As I strolled to the car, the driver got out and opened the door. I slipped into the back and didn’t make small talk. I kept quiet, praying that I could somehow keep my cool.

  After a ten-minute ride, the
driver pulled up outside the Barcelona Restaurant and Bar on East Whittier Street. The driver opened the door.

  I was escorted inside and ushered to the back of the restaurant, where no one could see us. This made me look like some spoiled brat who couldn’t be trusted to wipe his own ass. I bit my tongue and kept quiet, though the fists of fury swelled deep inside me.

  My father got to his feet when he saw me.

  My mother said I looked like him. Although I tried to ignore our resemblances, it was evident for all to see, from the green eyes to the height, build, and skin tone, but that’s where our similarities ended.

  “Logan,” he said, extending his hand toward me. “It’s good to see you.”

  I reciprocated and shook his hand. “Dad.”

  “Take a seat.”

  I sat down across the table from him, my posture rigid. I found it hard to relax.

  “You look good,” he remarked. “All that training hasn’t caused you to fail.”

  “Cut the bullshit,” I snapped. “Why now? This isn’t how we do this. It’s not Christmas, and it’s not my birthday either. I know you’re on top of all your other fatherly duties, so why now and here where all my friends can see?”

  “Logan, you’re acting like a child. Behave.”

  The waiter came over and handed each of us a menu. He also took our drink order.

  “Scotch on the rocks for me. Water for my son,” he said, not once asking me what I wanted. Typical!

  Opening the menu, I tried to focus on the writing, but I couldn’t control the rage bustling inside me. Food was the last thing on my mind. “So what’s the reason for the visit?”

  “I’ve recently purchased some property in the area. I was in town. Since you are attending school here, I thought it would be good to meet up, chat, and possibly build some bridges without your mother worrying.” He was calm as he spoke. “Logan, I am not your enemy.”

  “I never said you were,” I replied, looking down at the menu.

  “You are my child. Your best interests have always been my priority. You know that, and so does your mother.”

  I laughed and dropped the menu onto the table. “It’s no wonder you were voted in by the Republicans. I can see now how you work. It’s just a shame my mother didn’t have the same sense as me,” I said, wanting to hurt him.

  “I got voted in because I am good at what I do. Your mother was a grown woman when she decided on spending the night with me. Your conception was untimely, but it is nothing I regret. Do you regret your existence, Logan? Is that why you have a hard time accepting that I’m your father?” He looked at me and took a sip of his scotch, waiting for an answer.

  “No, I just regret never having the chance to be raised in a normal home. With both parents sitting at the dinner table, both parents being there at my meets, both parents there to support me. You weren’t there, Dad. You were hundreds of miles away playing happy families with your wife and children. I am just your dirty secret.”

  “I have never been ashamed of you, son,” he said, glaring at me. “You are my blood, and I’ve never once denied you. But I know you have denied me on many occasions, and while I ignored it for the most part, it still hurt me.”

  The two of us sat in an awkward silence until the waiter came and took our order.

  I wasn’t in the mood for food, so I settled for some paella.

  My father rested his elbows on the table and stared at me. “How do you suggest we fix this?” he asked.

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Our relationship, it needs a lot of work. I should be able to come and visit you without you losing your temper, don’t you agree?”

  He sat back and took another sip of his scotch, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

  “I don’t know. It was never my problem to begin with.”

  “How you are acting right now is the real issue,” he said. “You have a problem with me. I understand that.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I wish for you to spend the holidays with me and my family in Washington.”

  Looking at him in complete surprise, I shook my head. “No, out of the question. I’m not dumping on my mother for you.”

  “I’ve discussed this with your mother. She thinks it is a good, healthy idea.”

  My head was dizzy from the sudden influx of information and plans. Then, it hit me. They’d been conspiring all along. “I can’t believe she never told me about this.”

  “I asked her not to,” he said. “But if it helps, I’ve planned to fly your mother and sisters down for the New Year celebration I host every year.”

  “Oh my God, are you for real?” I asked, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “So we’ll be one big happy family hiding behind our fake smiles and lies. Just friggin’ great!”

  “I fear that whatever I suggest, you’ll react with condemnation,” he said, sounding defeated. “It’s such a shame you won’t let your guard down long enough to realize I am not your enemy.”

  “You can’t show up into town, take me out for some crappy meal, and assume I’ll bend backward and allow you into my life,” I said, realizing that I was, indeed, hurting him.

  “No, but I expect you to act like a man, instead of throwing tantrums.” His words stung.

  “Okay,” I said, swallowing my pride. “Maybe I’m being unreasonable.”

  Our meal was soon served. I watched my father cut into his food, chewing on small pieces, while sipping at water every few mouthfuls.

  My father looked at me, inspecting me as I tried to eat. It made me wonder about what was going through his mind. Did he have some hidden agenda in wanting to spend time with me? Was there something more sinister going on that my mother hadn’t told me about? My paranoia got the better of me.

  “How’s your food?” he asked.

  “It’s good, thank you.” I glanced at him several times, then at the two men who were behind him, standing with their backs to us. This was his life. It wasn’t something I liked having rubbed in my face. “You said you’d bought property?” I asked, trying to be polite, even though my appetite had long gone.

  “Yes, I purchased a house not too far from here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I liked the property and I wanted to have somewhere to stay in comfort when I come to town.”

  “I see,” I replied, setting my fork and knife down on the plate. “Is this because I am attending school here?”

  “Would that be a problem if it were?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “I’m not sure how to react to all of this.”

  “I know you have a hard time in accepting things. God knows, I’ve experienced the rejection many times before. But I’d like to think that you’ve grown up.”

  “I have. I’m just not able to digest things like this easily.”

  “Then we shall take it slow. I won’t impose on you, but I do expect you to meet me halfway. Do you think you can do that?”

  I took a moment to consider his proposal. A part of me wanted to tell him to go screw himself. Yet the boy in me wanted to get to know his father, to understand the man he was. I swallowed hard, pushing all my emotions to the side and agreed.

  “Good.” He smiled and relaxed. “Would you like some dessert?”

  “No thank you, but I’ll have a coffee, please.”

  He raised a hand and the waiter came over. We spent another thirty minutes talking about school and my training before I decided it was time to go.

  “I think I’ll head back now. Four a.m. comes fast and I’ve got to study before I hit the sack,” I said, standing up.

  “Of course, it’s good to see you display this kind of discipline,” he replied, joining me at the side of the table. “I’ll walk with you.”

  I found it odd exiting the restaurant through the back door. We were ushered out as if we were the mafia.

  Three cars were parked near the rear entry of the restaurant. The security de
tail was observant of everything. It made me wonder, for the briefest of moments, what they thought of me. I guessed they were unbiased considering my father’s choice of dinner date.

  “Before you go, I have something for you,” he said. My father nodded at one of his men.

  He handed my father a set of keys and retreated to where he’d been standing.

  My father held out the keys to me and pointed to a car parked to my right. “This is for you,” he said.

  “What? No way! I can’t accept this.” Shock filled every inch of my body.

  “Of course you can. You need a set of wheels, and this will serve its purpose.”

  I wasn’t one to accept gifts, especially extravagant things like a car. It unsettled me, and I didn’t like it. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” I shook my head.

  “Logan,” he said, sighing. “Please allow me this. I don’t ask for much.”

  He had to go and push the guilt on me. Which, in turn, played with my conscience, and that never boded well. “Okay,” I conceded. “But this doesn’t mean anything, okay?”

  “Of course not. I would never assume otherwise,” he said, and smiled when I took the keys from him.

  “Mr. President,” one of his security men said.

  “Oh, yes.” He looked at him and nodded. “I must go, Logan, but I’ll be in touch. Drive carefully, son.”

  He shook my hand. This time, I was a little more relaxed and didn’t want to punch him in the face. I stepped back and watched as he was ushered into the back of his car.

  His security detail followed in his wake. They soon drove off.

  I stared at the keys, then at the silver BMW. For the most part, I liked the idea of having my own car. It would make life a lot easier, giving me more options for taking Bree out on dates. I wondered if my mother had known he planned to gift me something so luxurious.

  I accepted defeat. My only concern now was how I was going to explain the car and my father to my friends. It wasn’t every day that you got to tell someone the president was, in fact, your daddy.

  Chapter Twelve