So, I called my father an asshole. He told me I was out of the will. I sputtered and told him that I didn’t want any of it anyway.
And it’s true. He’d never understand what I actually want from him anyway. I hope that he hears the word “asshole” ringing in his mind for a good long time. I hope he never forgets it.
After he took my sister back with him, there was radio silence between us. There still is. I haven’t spoken to him since the hospital. It’s been two and a half years since, and the only willing contact I’ve had is with my sister. I did see my stepmother about a year later in 2013, and it wasn’t exactly willing.
My stepmother at this point was still not quite at rock bottom but getting closer. She still thought she had a relationship with me, the silly woman. It’s funny how people are completely oblivious to the damage they inflict on others. When I married in 2013, she showed up at my house out of the blue the day before my wedding. Which neither she or my father were invited to. She had gifts for me and acted like we were friends. I was knocked off balance, and the fact I didn’t tell her to fack off is due to that surprise and also knowing she was unstable. I could see the lie in her as she told me that if anyone was telling me she was addicted to pills or paint, it wasn’t true. I knew much more than she thought I did, and just painfully smiled and nodded. Don’t upset the unstable woman.
So during these two years incommunicado, I spoke only to my sister, and I tried to encourage her since no one else did. Things got much better once she left my father’s house. The major tension was gone, as he could not affect her anymore unless she made the mistake of interacting with him.
Cut to my father and sister’s shared birthday, October 2014. My sister had just turned 20.
It’s about 8:00 PM. She texts me, telling our father has been arrested. I am utterly surprised, and I try not to seem greedy as I ask for more information. The only thing I receive back is,”Just like him to ruin my day.” I didn’t see my sister again until February 2015, then the details were all filled in.
My sister tried to do the daughterly thing, and celebrate her birthday with our father, who shared the same birthday. My father gets darkly depressed on any holiday, but it’s the worst on his birthday.
The story goes as follows. My stepmother, father, sister, and my sister’s long-suffering boyfriend pile in the car and get ready to go to a local arcade-and-bar place. As they are driving through their upscale community, my stepmother points out some nice features of other houses in the area. Major mistake. Because to my father, pointing out that other people have nicer things than him is a huge slight.
They are about two miles from the neighborhood when my father pulls the car over into a local park to turn around. He’s going to drive back to the house, and let them go celebrate without him. The huge, tantruming baby that he is. But it takes longer than expected to get back out of the park, it being a busy road with no stop lights, and there are people in front of him at the stop sign. His tantrum intensifies due to having to wait, and he begins to aggressively try to drive around the people already waiting to leave the park. The drama queen says he wants to pull the car out into traffic and kill them all. At that point, my sister’s boyfriend tries to intervene, telling my father to relax.
Honestly, by this time there’s nothing he could have said that wouldn’t have set my father off. My father explodes, telling my sister’s boyfriend to get out of the car. The poor man does, and my stepmother and sister try to get out to join him but are prevented by my father from doing so. He drives them back to the house, while my sister calls the police. When they arrive at the house, he storms melodramatically (I imagine) back into the house, and my sister and stepmother get in the car and drive back to pick up the boyfriend. They stay in the park for a while, to give my father time to cool down, then drive back. When they get there, my father is sweet-talking the police who have arrived. He’s in his element, talking to active officers in the same force he retired from.
The police talk to my sister, the boyfriend, and my stepmother. Then they go off by themselves to talk. And to me and my sister’s surprise, they clap my father in irons. He was charged with aggravated menacing and spent his birthday night in jail.
I wish I could have been a fly on the wall.