and briefly hung his head, as if whatever the hell he was going to say would be earth-shattering, make the loose ties that held him together come undone and expose him to hardship he’d never known. Brent wasn’t sure he could take much more, so he reached down and clutched one of his planes for comfort, praying he didn’t break the damn thing in two.
“I was going to save this conversation for another day, but, the answer to your question is, I work quite hard to get the money I have. I’ve made a name for myself, if you will. I was finally in a position to get my son, too. There were…some things required by your mom, and uh, well, let’s just say I took care of it.”
Brent’s brow rose in confusion.
“Brent.” The man sighed. “I had to pay your mother off to get you and the only way I could pay ’er off was to make money, good money. I’ve been trying to get custody of you since I moved here.” He ran his hand roughly over his face, forcing his hair back, knowing he’d dropped the king of doozies. “She’d call me complaining about your grades, talking about you never paid attention and all of this shit, then blame me for it. So, I told ’er I’d take ya, but she didn’t want to hear anything like that. I threatened to come get you, but she laughed. I had a criminal record, so I knew no court in the land would give you to me, I’d have to be at your mom’s mercy. No such luck with that. You see, after my incarceration, I couldn’t find another job, so I had to put plans on hold of trying to convince her again. Then, I met this woman in the homeless shelter.” His eyes got real dreamy, glossed over, as if it he were reflecting on the best night of his life. “She’d gotten beat up by her old man and needed some help, too. We both needed some money, and we needed it fast. But she wasn’t from around here, didn’t know how. And then…it came to me.” He snapped his fingers. “I could do what I’d known about for years, what I’d seen for a long ass time, what my grandfather did, too…though people called it something else back then.” His eyes darkened, then narrowed. “It was time. The opportunity was there, and well, I did it.”
Brent didn’t know what the hell his father was talking about, and wished he’d just answer the damn question. It was evident in his mind, Brent Sr. was gearing up to something big, a true confession, and Brent Jr. hated moments like this. The suspense was simply too much. He’d already been smacked in the face with the reality that his mother was a stone-faced liar. Wasn’t that enough punishment for one day?!
“Brent, I’m a business man.” He grinned like a movie star as he pointed at himself. “I sell pussy, son. Now, you get settled, jump in the shower…”—he waved his fingers nonchalantly at him—“… and let’s get you some decent damn clothes and shoes. We’re going shopping. I’ve looked at what you got there,” he said, pointing at the suitcase, “and there is nothing inside of that bag that I want my son wearing.” His voice rang with determination. “I’m going to get you fixed up. You need a haircut in the worst fucking way, too. You’ve got facial hair ’nd shit that’s sprouting all over your face like some damn Chia Pet and it’s probably never been cut or trimmed since it first began to develop. Your mama just let you grow up and didn’t give a damn about taking care of your appearance, making sure you looked the part, I see. You’re a Patterson!” he said with pride. “We don’t walk around looking like that.” He pointed a wayward finger at him, as if he were some circus freak. “Your shirt is old and dingy and your jeans have seen better days. Even on my worst days, I looked like somethin’. You’re a damn mess.” He shook his head as if disgusted.
“When was the last time you’ve been to a dentist, Brent?”
He swallowed and shrugged. “…About two years ago.”
“Hmmm, yeah, I’ll make you
“I was going to save this conversation for another day, but, the answer to your question is, I work quite hard to get the money I have. I’ve made a name for myself, if you will. I was finally in a position to get my son, too. There were…some things required by your mom, and uh, well, let’s just say I took care of it.”
Brent’s brow rose in confusion.
“Brent.” The man sighed. “I had to pay your mother off to get you and the only way I could pay ’er off was to make money, good money. I’ve been trying to get custody of you since I moved here.” He ran his hand roughly over his face, forcing his hair back, knowing he’d dropped the king of doozies. “She’d call me complaining about your grades, talking about you never paid attention and all of this shit, then blame me for it. So, I told ’er I’d take ya, but she didn’t want to hear anything like that. I threatened to come get you, but she laughed. I had a criminal record, so I knew no court in the land would give you to me, I’d have to be at your mom’s mercy. No such luck with that. You see, after my incarceration, I couldn’t find another job, so I had to put plans on hold of trying to convince her again. Then, I met this woman in the homeless shelter.” His eyes got real dreamy, glossed over, as if it he were reflecting on the best night of his life. “She’d gotten beat up by her old man and needed some help, too. We both needed some money, and we needed it fast. But she wasn’t from around here, didn’t know how. And then…it came to me.” He snapped his fingers. “I could do what I’d known about for years, what I’d seen for a long ass time, what my grandfather did, too…though people called it something else back then.” His eyes darkened, then narrowed. “It was time. The opportunity was there, and well, I did it.”
Brent didn’t know what the hell his father was talking about, and wished he’d just answer the damn question. It was evident in his mind, Brent Sr. was gearing up to something big, a true confession, and Brent Jr. hated moments like this. The suspense was simply too much. He’d already been smacked in the face with the reality that his mother was a stone-faced liar. Wasn’t that enough punishment for one day?!
“Brent, I’m a business man.” He grinned like a movie star as he pointed at himself. “I sell pussy, son. Now, you get settled, jump in the shower…”—he waved his fingers nonchalantly at him—“… and let’s get you some decent damn clothes and shoes. We’re going shopping. I’ve looked at what you got there,” he said, pointing at the suitcase, “and there is nothing inside of that bag that I want my son wearing.” His voice rang with determination. “I’m going to get you fixed up. You need a haircut in the worst fucking way, too. You’ve got facial hair ’nd shit that’s sprouting all over your face like some damn Chia Pet and it’s probably never been cut or trimmed since it first began to develop. Your mama just let you grow up and didn’t give a damn about taking care of your appearance, making sure you looked the part, I see. You’re a Patterson!” he said with pride. “We don’t walk around looking like that.” He pointed a wayward finger at him, as if he were some circus freak. “Your shirt is old and dingy and your jeans have seen better days. Even on my worst days, I looked like somethin’. You’re a damn mess.” He shook his head as if disgusted.
“When was the last time you’ve been to a dentist, Brent?”
He swallowed and shrugged. “…About two years ago.”
“Hmmm, yeah, I’ll make you
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