Striving for Acceptance

by B. L. Mooney

  My father put his fork down. “Excuse me? Who gave them the right—?”

  My mother covered his hand with hers. “I think your father is just worried about what they’ll decide. They may have the best intentions of helping, but what if that cop who scared you gets involved again?”

  “I think he’s the one keeping the case open.”

  My father put his head in his hands, and it reminded me of the time we argued just before his heart attack. He was still recovering, so I got worried. I needed to change the subject.

  “Mick’s going to open a restaurant.” I started to eat again as if nothing were bothering me.

  “Oh?” My mother was either really curious or she took my cue and rolled with it. “Where’s that going to be?”

  “Next door to the flower shop. It isn’t ready to open yet, but he’s doing the demolition now.”

  “So, this Mick is a business man?” My father started to get back into the conversation.

  “No. He’s,” I paused, not exactly sure what his title would be, “I guess he’s a chef.”

  “But he isn’t working right now.” My father seemed disappointed. “Where does he live?”

  “Uh, well. What does it matter? And he is working. I just told you he’s gutting the building for his restaurant.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “He has an apartment, but he owns the building and a few others from what I understand. He does make money.”

  “I need to meet him.”

  I shifted in my seat a little. “I’m not sure we’re at that point in our . . . relationship.”

  “I’d like to meet him, too. I’m sure it won’t be anything as fancy as what he cooks, but I’d love to make dinner for the two of you next week.”

  “I’ll think about it.” It was time for another subject change.

  Light duty was going to kill me more than falling off the ladder. I was anxious to get it done and this wasn’t the way to do it. I promised Maria I wouldn’t get back on the ladder until Blake could lend a hand. It was probably time to hire someone to help, though, so I could still go at the pace I wanted to.

  I took another garbage can of clean-up out to the dumpster and noticed a woman standing across the street. She’d been there all three times I had been out that morning. I didn’t see Blake pull up in front of the dumpster.

  He slapped my shoulder. “Are you into older women now?”

  I looked at him. “She’s been standing there, staring at Deb’s place all morning.” I looked at my watch. “What are you doing here?”

  “I took the day off to spend time with Maria and her folks, but tearing shit up sounds like more fun.”

  I smiled. “They kicked you out again.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. They love me, though.”

  I shook my head and led him back inside. “I’m glad you’re here because the clean-up . . .” I turned around when he stopped in the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

  “You really went to town on this thing. I didn’t really pay attention to it the night I picked you up off the floor.”

  “I was frustrated.”

  “Most people whack off in the shower.”

  “Not sexually frustrated.” I shrugged. “Okay, maybe I was a little, but more because I couldn’t do anything to help Deb. Hey, what’s my father finding out? He won’t tell me anything.”

  “He’s keeping it pretty tightlipped. He doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s doing, but he’s definitely not happy about something.”

  “Shit. Don’t tell me I’ve made a mistake.”

  “Sorry, buddy. I really can’t read your dad on this one.”

  “Fuck.” I picked up the sledgehammer to take out more frustration since my supervisor was there to watch me.

  I needed to get answers from my father about what he was finding out. I couldn’t be kept in the dark anymore. Deb wouldn’t move forward until she could be cleared, and I needed to give her the chance at starting a life—even if it wasn’t with me.

  I walked in and smelled my mom’s cooking. I checked my watch. Dinnertime probably wasn’t the best time to come over. I shook my head and headed for the kitchen anyway.

  “Mick!” My mom was excited to see me. I hadn’t been over for dinner as often as I should’ve. “Please, sit down. Let me fix you something.”

  “No, Mom. Enjoy your dinner.”

  “There’s plenty here. Please, fix a plate and sit with us.”

  My dad kept eating. It smelled so good and I was starving after working with Blake all afternoon, so I sat next to my father. “Hi, Dad.”

  He nodded. It was more than I’d received the past few weeks.

  “How’s it going?”

  “I’m not discussing the case with someone who isn’t on the force anymore.”

  “From what Blake said, you’re not discussing it with anyone.”

  “You don’t discuss open cases, especially open cases you have no business being in.”

  Blake was right. He wasn’t easy to read on this one. I needed to change the subject and come back to it later. “Do you know anyone looking for work?”

  “What type of work?”

  “I need construction help.”

  “I’ll send a few guys over tomorrow. If they work out, you can talk to them about it.”

  “Thanks.”

  It was silent throughout most of dinner. My mom seemed to lose her appetite more and more each time my father brushed me off. To be honest, I did, too. Unfortunately, I did have other things to discuss with him.

  “I might as well talk to you about the rest of Deb’s problems.”

  “Did she kill someone else?”

  My shoulders slumped. I wondered if that was a clue as to what he was finding. I felt sick to my stomach and pushed my plate away. He wasn’t going to help me. It was crazy to think he’d help his son when he hated me so much. I stood and took my plate to the sink. I kissed my mom on the cheek and walked out. I almost made it to my car when my father stormed out after me.

  “You don’t walk away from me when I ask a question. Is that clear?”

  I went back up the porch steps. “It was a mistake to ask you for help. You don’t want to help me; you just want to punish me for not doing what you want me to do.” I took a step toward him. “You will not punish Deb because you hate me. I won’t allow it!”

  He took a deep breath and I held mine. He turned me to the house and shoved me inside. “You will not speak to your father like that ever again! I demand respect from you.”

  “You can’t demand respect from me. I’m not one of these punks you have to deal with out on the street. I’m not someone in your interrogation room whom you can scare and intimidate. You have to earn respect from me!”

  “I am still your father!”

  “Then you need to do a better job of acting like it.” My mother shocked us both. She didn’t say much during our feud. She understood both sides and was determined to stay neutral. We watched as she went upstairs to get away from the argument.

  He turned to me with a scowl on his face. “If you’d have stuck with it, none of this would be happening and you could find out your own shit about your girlfriend.”

  “You’re right, but then I wouldn’t be happy.”

  He motioned to me with his hands. “You call this happy?”

  “Yes. I have a few bumps in the road right now, but as soon as Deb can be cleared and confident she won’t be arrested for what she did, I’ll be the happiest man in the world.” I sat on the sofa. “If she’ll have me, that is.”

  My dad sat in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees. “Son, I do believe she acted in self-defense, but McCoy has a real hard-on for her. He wants her arrested and he’s trying to convince the Assistant District Attorney to go after her.”

  “Fuck.” I put my head in my hands. “This will kill her.”

  “Our ADA isn’t stupid. She understands what’s going on and isn’t so sure she can win this case.” He sat
back in the chair. “I just can’t seem to get the case closed yet.”

  I sat back and put my head on the back of the sofa. “I feel sick.”

  “I want to meet her.”

  I sat up. “Deb?”

  “Yes. If I’m going to put my neck and reputation on the line, I need to meet her and make sure she’s innocent. If I feel she’s hiding anything, I will stop trying to clear her.”

  “I don’t know if she’ll come over.”

  “You’d better find a way to get her here or I’ll go to her. One way or another, I will meet her before I continue this with McCoy.”

  I buzzed Deb’s apartment number and looked at my watch. I should’ve thought about the time before I came over, but I was nervous. I’d never asked a girl to meet my parents before. I wished it was under better circumstances.

  I heard the crackle of the speaker when she hit the button and turned to it. “Yes?” She sounded tired.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Mick?”

  “How many guys do you have calling you beautiful?”

  “Shut up.”

  I smiled as I heard the door unlock. I started to take the stairs two at a time, but my back hurt from the fall a few days ago. I should’ve taken it easy with the sledgehammer. I slowed down. I didn’t want her to see me in pain.

  I reached her floor and saw some guy leaving her apartment. I narrowed my eyes and walked faster. Instead of walking toward the stairway, he walked to the apartment down the hall. I stopped in front of her door but didn’t knock yet. I couldn’t stop staring at his door. Was she seeing someone else?

  “That’s Al.”

  I turned to her with a puzzled look. “Al?”

  “The guy who used to have your job.” She left the door open, but walked into her apartment.

  “Oh.” I walked in and shut the door. “So he’s Al.”

  “Yes, and now that that’s cleared up, what are you doing here?”

  “I should’ve called first, but I was on my way back from seeing my parents and I thought I’d stop by.”

  She yawned and sat on the sofa. “I’m really tired, Mick.”

  “I can see that.” I looked at the bowl on the coffee table. “Is that what you had for dinner?”

  She picked it up and took it to the kitchen. “I don’t need a lecture on what I eat.”

  “I’m not lecturing you. I just think you’d have more energy if you ate better. You know, real food.”

  “That is real food. It may not be as good as the food you make, but it microwaves fast and that’s what I needed.”

  I was getting off topic. I wasn’t there to discuss her eating habits. That was something I could take care of after we started dating. I smiled.

  “What?” She looked at herself. “What’s funny?”

  “Nothing is funny. I’m not laughing.” I got close to her. “I was just thinking how I can’t wait to cook for you again.” I started to lean in, but she stopped me.

  “I’m tired and we need to talk.” She went to the living room. “I just don’t think I can talk tonight.”

  “My father wants to meet you.”

  She stopped but didn’t turn to me. “Why?”

  I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. “He wants to meet you before he goes forward with your case.” I felt her shake and I held her tighter.

  “I think we should just drop it.”

  “But it will always be hanging over your head. Don’t you want to close the case?”

  She stepped out of my embrace and headed for her bedroom. “I’m not sure I can talk about this tonight.”

  I followed her. “We need to talk about this.”

  “I know, but not tonight.”

  “Not tonight. Not last night. Not the night you helped me.” I threw my hands in the air. “When! When are we going to talk about it so we can move on? When, Deb?”

  She continued to get her pajamas from her dresser and ignored my question. I walked over to her and grabbed her arms. She struggled to break free. “Let me go!”

  “No! I’ve been too lenient with you. I’ve given you your space because I was afraid to push you away.” I struggled to keep her as she kept fighting me. “God damn it! We are going to talk about this!”

  “Lenient? Lenient!” She struggled again. “Who the fuck are you to decide what I do and when I do it?”

  “I’m the guy who wants to take care of you. I’m the guy who wants to be more than just another applicant in your history of bed buddies!” I let go of her.

  She slapped me. “You’ve called me a bitch and now you’ve called me a whore. Do you expect me to stick around and see what you’ll call me tomorrow?”

  I closed my eyes as she walked to the bathroom and slammed the door.

  I turned and leaned on the door after I closed it. The bed was where I wanted to be. I was so tired. A shower would’ve been good, though, so I started the water and made it hot.

  I caught my appearance in the mirror. I looked ragged. The shop was my life, my pride and joy, but I needed to hire help if I wanted to expand into weddings. Drew’s was coming up quickly, and I needed to focus on that.

  I undressed and got under the hot spray. I let the water beat down on my back. It was probably a little too hot, but it felt good on my sore muscles.

  Being tired was definitely slowing me down, but I was also giving Mick time to leave. I needed him out. I didn’t want to talk about the case. Seeing Al happy as he talked about moving in with his girlfriend made me long for that kind of relationship, too.

  I rinsed my hair a final time and shut the water off. It was cold as soon as the warm water stopped running over my body. I dried myself off as quickly as possible and got into my pajamas. My hair didn’t take much to dry, so I grabbed a towel and started running it through my hair.

  I was exhausted and cold. I just wanted my bed and my blankets. I shut the light off as soon as I walked through the bedroom door and made a beeline for my bed. It was so warm and soft, but my teeth were still chattering as I tried to warm up. I screamed when someone grabbed me and I started hitting, trying to get him away from me.

  “Fuck! It’s just me.”

  “Oh, God. Did I hurt you?” Normally I wouldn’t have cared after he scared me like that, but Mick was still recovering from his fall. I reached up and turned the side light on so I could pull the covers back and examine what I had hit. He was only wearing his boxers. I closed my eyes and flipped the covers back over.

  “I’ll be fine.” He sat up and shook his head as if to shake the pain out. “You were shivering. I just wanted to help you warm up.”

  I fluffed my pillow and sat up against the headboard, pulling the covers up to cover my body. I was still cold. I looked around for the towel I’d brought with me and he tossed it on my lap. I started to dry my hair again.

  “What are you still doing here? And why are you in your boxers?”

  “I wanted to stay with you tonight.”

  “We haven’t talked yet. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He put his head back against the headboard. “I don’t understand what there is to talk about. We want to be together. At least, I want to be with you.” He looked at me. “And if you would admit it, you want to be with me, too.”

  I put the towel in my lap and looked down. “Al’s moving in with his girlfriend.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  I nodded. “Yes. It’s a very good thing . . . for him.” I looked at Mick. “Hearing Al talk about how happy he is to be moving in with her makes me feel guilty for wasting your time. Until I know what’s going to happen with the case, I can’t promise you anything.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  I touched his face. “But you want me to.”

  He sat up and turned his entire body to me. “Look, why don’t we start over? We’ll forget we’ve had sex. We’ll forget we’ve kept things from each other. Let’s just see where it leads. All we really know ab
out each other right now is we’re great in bed together.”

  “Start over?” I looked to my lap. “I’m not sure I can do that.”

  “Why not? We don’t know any of the personal things about each other that couples find out while they’re dating. We know each other physically, but not as people. This is possible.”

  I looked at him. “So, just date each other.”

  “Yes. We’ll just date and get to know each other. Who knows, maybe we won’t even like each other.” His smile was contagious.

  I smiled and shook my head. “I bet we’ll hate each other by the time we’re through.”

  He lay down and rolled onto his side with his back facing me. “In fact, I hate you already.”

  I could still hear his smile and smiled bigger myself. “We really shouldn’t spend the night together if we’re starting to date like normal people.”

  “That part starts tomorrow.” He yawned and rolled over, pulling me down the bed. “Tonight, we sleep.”

  “I’m not sure what there is to say about my marriage.”

  “How did you meet him?” Joseph wanted to talk about Tom. I wasn’t sure what it had to do with my therapy about Craig, but he wasn’t going to stop asking until I answered his questions.

  “I met him in college for my second degree. He was a year ahead of me but struggling in the class we had together. I helped him pass it.”

  “So, you made a good team.”

  “We did. We stayed in contact after he graduated and had gone out a couple of times. It wasn’t anything serious.”

  “When you say you’d gone out, what does that mean?”

  “I’m not sure if it could be considered dating. He always paid for whatever we’d do whether it was movies or dinner, but there weren’t any of the cute things couples would do on dates. We didn’t eat popcorn out of the same tub or hold hands walking from and to the car.” I shrugged. “That type of thing. We more hung out instead of dated.”