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49 - The Sins of the Father

If ever there was a time for a Pros and Cons list, this was it; the thoughts jumbling around in my head desperately need sorting. I'm starting with cons. I don't know why, I just am. Go with me on this one.

Cons:

1. As Ben so astutely observed, I haven't yet let go of all the hurt and anger towards my father that I've been carrying around for twenty years. I'm not sure if it's because I don't want to let it go or simply don't know how.

2. I am definitely wary of letting him back into my life because I think he will only hurt me again. (Top marks to Ben; he totally called it.) Can I overcome that – can I drop the walls I've put up over the years? Do I even want to?

3. The man is dying; he has only a few months left to live. Is it worth all this angst for something so short term? How could the benefits of letting him back into my life possibly outweigh the inevitable?

4. If I continue to exclude him, will I regret it later? And will it drive a wedge between my grandparents, my brothers and me?

5. Is it mere coincidence that he has shown up now? Is he really after money or wants one of us to donate some liver bits? Is it terrible that I am suspicious of my own father's motives?

Whoa, that's a pretty formidable list of cons; I wonder what I've got to stack up against them. Here goes.

Pros:

1. It would mean a lot to nonno and nonna, the two people I love most in the world. Well, okay, equal most. And I guess it would make Tony and Marco happy too.

2. Umm, okay, I'm struggling here. A tiny, weakly optimistic voice is telling me the joy of having a parent in my life is a firm pro but the cynical side of me tells me I've coped perfectly well without for twenty years and there's no reason why I can't continue to do so. So...yeah, number two is not leaping out at me.

"You've got your Pros and Cons face on."

What? I stared at Ben in amazement as he came in, bringing with him a hint of the bleak winters day outside. He knows me so well, it's kind of...spooky. And amazing. And lovely.

"I...yes." Oh, I am so eloquent this morning.

Putting down the bags of groceries, he blew into his hands and rubbed them together then came over to me. As he had a break until after Christmas, he'd let his hair grow back a little and was sporting a very attractive batch of chin fuzz that could be held directly responsible for the rash on a number of parts of my body. There was still a touch of chill on the fingers he placed on either side of my face but it felt good to my suddenly overheated cheeks. "Close your eyes," he commanded in a deep voice, sending shivers to all my nether regions. I obeyed. "What is your heart telling you?"

"To kiss you silly," my reply was rather breathless. The fact he still had this effect on me I put down to some kind of voodoo magic.

"I meant about your father." There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

I couldn't help what happened next, I really couldn't. I'm a geek; it's bred deep in my DNA. "Luke," I made the deep breathy noise, "I am your father." Then I giggled and when an image of me sitting there, giggling with my eyes tightly closed, entered my head, I giggled even harder. I was listening for the sound of Ben's laughter and about to open my eyes when he stole my breath with a kiss – a toe-curling, heart-stopping kiss that melted my insides and had me whimpering when his lips left mine.

"Now be serious, you kook." My ovaries jumped around in response to his husky tone. I was reassured at the evidence that he'd been affected by the kiss too, but seriously? I was supposed to think about my father after that? It seemed wrong on so many levels. "Don't overthink it," he told me, "just say the first thing that comes to mind."