“It doesn’t.”
“But I want you to know I understand why you did what you did. And I’m not angry about the sale.”
“Are you angry about anything?”
He looked at his untouched coffee.
“I’m angry at myself. I’ve been angry at myself for a long time, Cody. Since your mother died, I just… I didn’t know how to be the parent you needed. Diane was there, and she was loud, and it was easier to go along with her than to figure out who I was supposed to be without Beth.”
That hit harder than I expected.
I sat with it for a minute.
“Dad, I’m not asking you to be perfect. I’m asking you to stop treating my boundaries like suggestions. I’m asking you to stop giving my keys to people who don’t respect my property. I’m asking you to be on my side sometimes, even when it’s uncomfortable.”
He nodded.
“I can do that.”
“Can you?”
He met my eyes.
“I’m going to try.”
It wasn’t a movie moment.
He didn’t cry.
I didn’t cry.
We just sat in a booth in a diner that smelled like burned coffee and said honest things to each other for the first time in years.
It was small and imperfect, and it was enough.
That was 6 months ago.
Here’s where everyone ended up.
Diane and I don’t speak.
She sends me a card at Christmas because she’s the kind of person who maintains appearances even when she’s furious, and I send one back because my mother raised me with manners.
We’re polite at the rare family event we both attend, and that’s all we’ll ever be.
I’m okay with that.
Travis settled with Derek Voss for an undisclosed amount that I’m told came partially from Diane’s savings.
He didn’t apologize to me.
I didn’t expect him to.
Last I heard, he’s working at a car dealership and doing okay.
We’re not in contact.
Dad and I have dinner every couple of weeks.
It’s slow.
We’re rebuilding something that was neglected for a long time.
And you don’t fix a foundation by throwing cement at it.
You have to dig down, clear the cracks, and build it back, right?
He’s trying.
I can see it.
Some days that’s enough.
Lena and I drove past the cabin last month.
We didn’t stop.
It’s not mine to stop at, but we slowed down enough that I could see the dock.
Glenn had rebuilt the railing.
Cedar, from the looks of it.
Sturdy.
The kind of work Pop would have approved of.
I used the money from the sale to put a down payment on 12 acres about 40 minutes north.
Raw land, mostly pine and hardwood, with a creek running through the southeast corner.
No cabin yet.
I’m designing one myself on evenings and weekends because I’m a surveyor and a civil engineer.
And if Pop taught me anything, it’s that the things worth having are the things you build with your own hands.
I laid the first stakes last Saturday.
Lena brought coffee.
It was mostly milk, which she did on purpose.
And when I noticed, she just shrugged and said, “Old family recipe.”