'Sure.'
After he made me some toast and coffee, he sat down across from me with his tea. He sipped his drink slowly as I ate the eggs.
'What did you do today on your first day out?'
'Visited some friends. Nothing much else.'
I felt awkward sitting there with him. We were never very close. When I was a kid he used to spend a lot of his time at the firehouse and I never saw him much. Later, when I was in high school and starting as quarterback, we got a little closer. He'd show up for my games and take me out to dinner afterwards. Still, we never connected. Now it was as if we were strangers. He was just some old stooped man drinking a cup of tea. And I could tell he was as uncomfortable as I was.
He cleared his throat and waited until I looked at him.
'Joey, have you thought about what you're going to do?'
'What do you mean?'
'I was hoping you would think about college.’
‘I'm too old for that,' I said. 'I'm forty. I'm not going to sit in a classroom with a bunch of eighteen-year-olds.’
‘Other people have done it.'
'I'm not going to. Besides, how would I pay for it?’
‘I'm sure you would find a way.'
If I kept the police pension I'd be able to, but I wasn't going to do that. Besides, I needed to get a real job so I could do something for my daughters. I couldn't wait four more years for that. 'Even if I wanted to, I don't think too many colleges would take a forty-year-old ex-felon. What I was thinking was that maybe I'd go to a trade school and become a plumber, or maybe an electrician.'
His face deflated with that. 'You could do that, Joey,' he said, 'but I hope you consider college. I'm sure if you set your mind to it you could find a good school that would take you. I think that would be the best thing for you.'
'I appreciate your concern.'
He gave me a sad, wistful kind of smile. 'Do you remember what you got on your SATs?'
Of course I remembered. My SAT scores were a sore subject that we had gone over time after time in the past. I shook my head and pretended I didn't.
'Eight hundred math and seven-sixty English,' he said. 'The only thing that I demanded of you when you were in high school was that you take the SATs. You didn't even study for them and you got those types of scores. Even though your grades weren't too good, with those scores and the way you excelled in sports you could've gotten into a good college. I should've pushed you harder. I shouldn't have let you just drift along and become a cop.'
'And why was that?'
He let out a loud sigh. 'Joey,' he said, 'I'm going to speak frankly with you. I'm not trying to start a fight or upset you. Can I do that?'
'Go ahead.'
He seemed stuck, his face locked in a pained expression. As he sat there with his hands resting lightly on the table, I couldn't help noticing all the liver spots decorating them. There were more spots along his forehead where his hair used to be. Finally, his internal struggle broke and he made a decision,
'I shouldn't have let you because I knew how it would turn out,' he said at last, his manner more relaxed. I knew you'd get bored, and I knew with the way you, uh, are, you'd end up getting in trouble. I knew all that and I did nothing about it. Just as I know you'll get bored as either a plumber or an electrician and that you'll end up falling into the same old patterns. I don't think you could help yourself. I think college could change that. At least it could give you a chance.'
As I sat and stared at him, I could feel my throat tightening and a hotness spreading along my face and ears. Part of what he said was true, but only a small part of it. Yeah, I got bored as a cop, but that had nothing to do with what followed. The fact that he thought he could sit there and judge me when he didn't have a clue was infuriating. And the fact that he was so damn sure of himself only infuriated me more.
'Dad, it's almost funny you showing all this concern now,' I said. 'You couldn't even visit me once in seven years.'
'I'm sorry about that, son.'
'Forget it.'
'No, I'd like to explain. About not visiting you in jail-’
‘At this point I couldn't care less.’
‘Now, Joey, don't be like this!’
‘Don't be like what?'
'I'm trying to talk to you as a man,' he said. 'I'm not trying to upset you and I'm not trying to pick a fight. But I do want to talk to you. And I want to explain why we didn't visit. This isn't easy for me, but I want to explain. I think I should. Joey, what you did was so, um, so…' He seemed lost for the right word.
I volunteered, 'Unforgivable?'
He nodded. 'It was. I don't know if you knew, but I was there that night. I saw you when you walked out of the courthouse covered with blood. You were still holding that letter-opener. I saw firsthand what you did to Phil.'
He seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then his eyes focused back on me. 'You got to remember, Joey, I've known the Coakleys my whole life. Barry Coakley, Phil's uncle, was a buddy of mine in the department. I had worked alongside him for over twenty-five years. I couldn't face the guys after what you did, I had to retire. And then I started finding out more about you. About your gambling and drug addictions. I also had a long talk with Elaine. She told me how you used to spend almost every night at that strip club having sex with prostitutes.'
'I never cheated on my wife.'
He showed me a frail, sad smile. 'Joey-'
'I'm not lying about that. I did have a gambling and cocaine problem. And I did spend a lot of time at Kelley's. But I never once cheated on Elaine.'
He shrugged weakly. 'Maybe you didn't,' he said. Anyway, it took me a long time to come to terms with what you did, especially my role in it. It took a lot of soul searching on my part. The toughest thing for me, Joey, was that nothing you did came as any surprise to me. To be honest, I think I almost expected it.'
All I could do was stare at him. Stare at him and hate him for being so damn sure of himself. Finally I muttered something about was that so.
'Yes, Joey. I've read a lot of books and talked to a lot of people.'
I didn't say anything. I just stared at him and hated him all the more.
'I talked to psychiatrists, Joey.' His mouth moved for a moment as if he were stuck. Then he said, 'You've got what would be called a narcissistic personality disorder.'
'You're making psychiatric diagnoses now, huh?'
'Joey, please listen to me. Please. I know it fits you. I've talked to enough people and read enough about it to know that. Back then, of course, I didn't know what your disorder was called, but I knew what was in you. And I did nothing about it. I'll never forgive myself for that. I think that was part of why I couldn't get myself to visit you.'
I could feel myself trembling as I stared at him. My voice sounded odd to me when I asked whether my mother felt the same way.
'I'm not going to lie to you, your mother was hit very hard by what you did. She'd never wanted to believe me when I'd try to talk to her about you. She'd always defend you, Joey, always ignoring what was right in front of her face. Then after you tried to murder Phil, she couldn't ignore it any longer. I think that's why she spends almost every day volunteering. She's trying to make up for all those years of ignoring what she shouldn't have ignored.'
I had only finished half my food, but I'd lost my appetite for what was left. I pushed the plate away. 'Well, thanks for the eggs and the psychoanalysis. I think I'm going to head off to bed.'
'Joey, I'm trying to talk honestly with you.'
'Yeah, I guess there's got to be a first time for everything. But I appreciate your taking the time to figure out my personality defects. It was Very thoughtful of you.'
'I wish you'd think over what I said and not be so dismissive.'
'Look,' I said, feeling the hotness intensify along my neck and ears, 'you don't have a fucking clue; Go play psychiatrist with someone else. You don't know me and you never did.'