1
Finn
Complete mental vacuum. That was my current state after leaving my last exam of the semester. Nobody told me how hard it was going to become the deeper into my university studies I delved. Now done with my third year, I was wondering which would be better—a complete nervous breakdown or a stiff drink. Truth was I couldn’t afford either one.
I trudged up the steps to the older frame house I shared with five other guys. As last man in—and only because my good friend, Simon, twisted some arms, I’m sure—I literally slept in a closet. In fact, it was the walk-in closet on the far side of Simon’s room. Channeling my inner Harry Potter, what. The upside was it was cheap and just a short walk from campus.
“Yo...Finn,” Simon called from where he was camped in front of the television with a game controller in hand. “How’d the last exam of the year go?”
From the kitchen, I heard some good-natured arguing over whose turn it was to take the trash and the recyclables to the curb.
“European History? Not bad. I’m just glad it’s over.”
“We’re going out to Frank’s for some beers later on. You up for it?”
I shrugged out of my backpack, letting it dangle from one hand. “I dunno. I’m calling my dad in a few. I’ll let you know later.”
Chances were good I would bow out. I didn’t have a lot of spare cash, and even though I knew Simon would buy if I needed him to, I hated sponging off anyone.
With a wave to Simon and the rest of the crew, I headed for my cupboard under the stairs for my weekly check-in call with my dad. I’m not sure who got the most reassurance out of it. He needed to know I was doing well, and I needed to know that he was alive. Not as melodramatic as it might sound. Or maybe it was.
All I knew for sure was the person truly responsible for putting him into a rehab facility walked away scot free.
After setting my backpack in the narrow space between the door and my desk, I flopped back on the narrow bed and pulled my phone from my pocket. Swiping across the screen, I was relieved to see I still had a lot of battery left. I never quite knew how the calls to Dad were going to go. Some weeks were better than others, and he’d want to talk for a half hour or more. Lately, he’d been in a good mood, so I was kind of waiting for things to spiral down because it was just that time.
With a deep breath, I pulled up his contact and tapped dial, putting the phone on speaker and angling it away from the door so I could hear him, but no one outside would be able to.
“Finn? Is that you, buddy?”
I smiled. I knew his phone display showed it was me calling, but he always verified that it was actually me on the phone. “Yeah, Dad. How’s it going today?”
“Oh, you know. I’ve got physical therapy tomorrow. Not looking forward to that.”
“I know it’s tough, but the doctors keep saying it will improve your overall health if you keep in the best shape that you can.”
I got a grunt from the other end of the call and my chest tightened. Ask. Just ask. Don’t dance around it. “Where’s your head at?”
Silence.
“I’m okay.”
Lie.
But I wasn’t going to get anything out of him. We’d been through this before. Dad thought he was keeping up a front to help me feel better and concentrate on my studies. I thought I was staying upbeat to help him. The truth was neither one of us was fooled. This afternoon it looked like some of the masks were slipping and letting some real feelings through.
“I finished my last final today.”
“Big plans for the summer?” I detected the forced brightness in his tone.
“Well, I still have my job bussing tables on weekends at Atelier du Cuisine, and I have a summer job as an intern at a law practice in town.”
I hadn’t really been sure I was going to get the job. After all, I wasn’t even in law school yet. Most of the internships I’d seen online were for people who had finished at least their first year in law school. So it had shocked the hell out of me a couple of days earlier when I received the official welcome letter letting me know to report to Tamsin & Jones, Attorneys at Law on Monday.
“Really?” The genuine interest in my dad’s voice picked up. “That’s fantastic. How did you manage that?”
“One of my professors. He has some contacts and said he’d put in a good word for me.”
I was grateful. How could I not be? I was tired eking out the year on my scholarship and whatever crap jobs I could fit in around my classes. For any other student it would have been more than enough, but there was my dad. I had to take care of him. There sure wasn’t any help from my mother.
“I’m so proud of you, son,” Dad was saying. “Hard to believe it won’t be long before we have a lawyer in the family. This will look fantastic on a resume. Who knows, the firm might even ask you to join them when you graduate law school.”
I flopped back on my narrow bed and stared at the ceiling, noticing the slight sag in it. I forced enthusiasm into my voice. “True. It’s a really great opportunity.”
“I know you’ll be fantastic at it, Finn. You have so much potential.”
Unspoken in that was that my father no longer believed he had any potential. My mother had a lot to answer for. She had destroyed a lot more than his ability to walk.
“Thanks, Dad.” I blinked several times to clear my eyes as I continued to stare unseeingly at the ceiling. “I’ll give you a call next week to let you know how things are going, all right?”
“I can’t wait Finn. I love you, son.”
“Back at you.”
After I hit end on my phone, I let it fall to the side while I continued to stare at the ceiling. This time, I didn’t try to clear the tears from my eyes. They trickled out the corner, sliding along my temples and into my hairline.
How did I tell my dad a career in law was not what I wanted?
I let him continue to believe it because I felt guilty. I had lived with my parents during my freshman year at school, but the constant poison spewing from my mother was more than I could take. So, going into my sophomore year, I had begged to be allowed to live on campus, using the argument that it would give me the complete college experience. What I hadn’t realized was how it very nearly took my father away from me. If only I had been home, maybe things would have turned out differently.
“Finn?” Simon called through my closed door. “You okay?”
He knew what day of the week it was. Knew it was the day I always called my dad to check in on him.
I used the heels of my hands to wipe the tears off my face and cleared my throat. “I’m fine.”
“Come on down, man. We’re getting the end-of-the-semester party going before we head out, and we need you down here too.”
Somehow, I kind of doubted that. I had never really fit in with the rest of Simon’s roommates. Maybe my being gay made them nervous, I don’t know. Simon was my friend, though, and I hated letting anyone down.
“Be there in a minute.”
“Be sure you are.” Simon thumped on the door before I heard his footsteps retreating across the hardwood floor outside.
I sat up, propping my hands on the edge of the bed as I blew a breath out. I wasn’t really sure I had much to celebrate. I seemed to be headed more firmly in the direction of a career I wasn’t even sure I wanted, my father was confined to a wheelchair, and I had neither the time nor the money to have any social life whatsoever.