Another Attempt
Enrico
I drove through the streets of Seattle, my thoughts revolving around recent events. Among the things that haunted me the most was Rachel's complete lack of concern for what happened to her sister. How could someone be so selfish as to not feel the desire to be by their twin's side when she needed it the most? This thought had been tormenting me every day since the accident that befell Sarah.
Although I left Sarah's house feeling somewhat reassured about the situation as a whole—after all, she seemed to be coping well with the drastic changes in her life—the fact that Graham's support was doing her good was evident and comforting. Although I still harbored a degree of mistrust towards this man, given everything that happened, I acknowledged that he was genuinely trying to make amends. If his presence was bringing happiness to Sarah, I would never interfere with that.
However, Rachel was a different story. She wasn't just a person of strong and decisive temperament; her character seemed to be completely absent. I concluded that the best course of action was to set aside the feelings she had stirred in me from the first moment I saw her. I no longer believed in any possibility of change in Rachel. In my eyes, she had proven to be cruel, and the most sensible decision was to distance any emotion I had for her.
At that moment, I arrived at the extremely luxurious nursing home where my father was staying. After greeting the receptionist, whom I already knew from previous visits, I was informed that my father was with his friends in the game room.
I took a deep breath, accepting in advance the theater of falsehood to which I was about to submit myself, and headed towards the room.
“My dear son!” My father exclaims, extremely excited to see me enter. “I was starting to think you had forgotten your old father here.”
Joseph struggled to get up from his chair and came over to me, hugging me as if he were genuinely pleased to see his son. However, I knew him well enough to understand it was all just an act.
“Hello, everyone!” I greet my father's colleagues, as he finally releases me, all of them in their seventies. “I hope you're all doing well today.”
I uttered these words with the sole intention of prolonging the conversation. Quickly, I sat in one of the empty chairs to hear the usual complaints about the health issues of the elderly. It was a topic that generated a lot of discussion, and this way, I didn't have to limit myself to talking only to my father or hearing something that would make me irritated or even sad.
However, my strategy didn't seem very effective this time. One by one, the attendees began to leave, citing random reasons, and soon I was alone with my father—a situation I avoided.
Although I felt the obligation to visit my father and cover his expenses, he always found a way to throw unpleasant comments about me. And even after all these years, I still allowed his words to affect me.
“Where's the girl you kissed at the end of that race?” He asks something I already expected to happen. “Didn't bring her with you, I assume she's already left you.”
I sighed, struggling to keep my heartbeat under control, as it seemed erratic within my chest. Why I allowed this man to have so much power over me was something I couldn't understand.
“Sarah is an excellent girl, Dad” I prefer not to answer his question. “I'm sure you would like her.”
“Like her?” He gets to the heart of the matter. “So, she has left you.”
My father looks disappointed, as always when he tries to bring me down.
“We're just friends” I explained, trying to navigate the situation. “That kiss was just for the media.”
“You're twenty-eight already, Enrico” Here comes another one of his sermons. “You should think about starting a family, not pleasing the media. Sometimes I wonder what your problem is, why you're not dating.”
Dealing with someone who constantly points out what they consider flaws in you is very challenging, especially when that person is your father, but I tried not to let my annoyance show in the situation. If Joseph senses that I didn't like what he said, he won't bring up another topic from today onwards.
"I don't want a serious relationship right now, Dad. All I want is to win another championship and become a four-time champion," I try to steer the conversation towards something less tense.
"You've already proven you're good on the tracks, son," he says, surprising me. "I want to see you figure out your personal life now."
I could hardly believe the old man was throwing me a challenge because that's exactly what he had just done. And he knows how driven I am by the emotion of proving that I can do what I set my mind to.
"I don't want a girlfriend, and a wife is out of the question, Dad," I say, using a definitive tone. "So don't expect that from me."
"I wish I had more children; maybe one of them would have made me proud."
My father had just surpassed all the absurd things he had ever said to me throughout my life.
"I thought you were proud of me," I say, ironically.
Of course, I was lying. I never had such a thought, even though he repeated it to everyone in the nursing home, especially when any news about me came up on TV.
"I try to feel proud, but it's so hard when you only care about cars and not about people," he said, avoiding my gaze.
My father seemed sad, which didn't make much sense to me. However, I preferred not to prolong the visit any further. I stood up to leave as quickly as possible, as I had already heard enough absurdities for an afternoon.
"I need to go," I announced, about to escape from the weirdest visit I had ever made to my father. "I'm planning to return to London tomorrow, so I won't be able to stop by before the trip."
"I hope that the next time you come to visit, you will have reflected on what I said."
"Yes, of course," I agreed, opting for the easiest path.
This time, without his colleagues present, my father didn't even get up from the chair. He just waved to me, and I didn't feel like getting any closer. I simply waved back in farewell.
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