I committed the visiting hours schedule to memory years ago. I’ve come to visit Dad both as Cash and as Nash. I never tried to hide my family’s past from the upper crust of Atlanta society. I just tried to be involved in it in a completely different way as Nash.
As Nash, I was always approaching it from a legal standpoint, like it was my duty to try and help my father by learning and doing what I could. Legally.
As Cash, I never really did anything. I took the only thing he left me—Dual—something that was bought with questionable money from questionable people, and I turned it into a successful, respectable establishment. Something a kid without a high school diploma could run. Something people would expect a person like me to be involved with. I played Cash to the bone.
But somewhere along the way, I became something else. Something different. Some kind of hybrid. I’m not satisfied being the loser Cash anymore. At least not only the loser Cash. I like being respectable and respected. I like being looked at like I’m worth something and like my opinion matters. I like other people knowing I’m smart without me having to try and convince them. And then fail. I like being the winner that my brother was.
Only I’m not my brother. I’m a winner all on my own. Yes, his death gave me another chance at life, but I accomplished all these things on my own.
And I’m the only person who will ever know. Except my father.
And Olivia.
The guards buzz me through the gate and I check in, filling in the blanks and signing my name, identifying the name and number of the prisoner I’m here to see. After I finish, they lead me to the familiar room with one long table cut in half by a wall of glass. It’s divided periodically by partitions that create tiny cubicles. They’re designed to give the illusion of privacy. But in here, there’s no privacy. I have no doubt that everything I say into the nondescript black telephone is taped and stored somewhere. Luckily, my father is innocent. And anything else we talk about, we can do vaguely enough so that no one else would suspect what we’re discussing.
Like today, when the guards usher him in and he greets me.
He smiles. “So who’s visiting me today? Cash or Nash? I can’t tell by the clothes.”
I look down at my hastily assembled outfit. I guess, for me at least, it is pretty middle-of-the-road. Black jeans and a striped rugby shirt. It’s something that either Cash or Nash might wear. That or neither of them would wear it. I’m not sure which. I can’t even remember buying the shirt.
“Does it matter?” I ask dryly.
He smiles again. His eyes search my face, like they do every time I come to visit. Like he’s looking for signs of change and age. Or distress. When his smile fades, I know that today he’s found some.
He sits up a little straighter, his eyes becoming sharp. Aware. Vigilant. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“I met a girl.”
A frown flickers across his face—the face that most people say looks so much like an older version of my own—but then it smoothes and his lips curve into a very pleased grin. “Well, it’s about time. I’ll be damned.” He sits back and slaps his hand on the table. He’s genuinely happy for me. Well, at least until I tell him the rest. That might change his tune.
“I told her, Dad,” I say, deadpan.
He looks a little confused for a second before he realizes what all is encompassed in that blanket statement. “How long have you known this girl?”
I start shaking my head. I know where he’s going. Always suspicious. “Dad, it doesn’t matter. I needed to tell her. I care about her. And I trust her. Besides, I thought maybe she could help.”
“Bringing her into all this, that doesn’t sound like you care for her at all.”
“I had it worked out to keep her safe. I wouldn’t put her in danger.”
“You put her in danger. You’re my son. You’re in this whether you like it or not. And I’m sorry for that. Sorrier than you’ll ever know, but what’s done is done. For the rest of my life, you’ll have to be careful of who you let in. Maybe one day…when I’m gone…”
“I’m not waiting around, Dad. I’m not gonna let you die in here and I’m not gonna put my life on hold because of some mistakes that were made years ago. We’ve been punished enough. It’s time for us to get on with life. I think I’ve found a way to—”
“Get yourself killed. That’s what you’ve done. Stop messing in stuff you’ve got no business messing in, Cash. I gave you those…items as insurance. Nothing more.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Dad, but I’m tired of letting other people ruin my life. I can’t live this way. You’re all I’ve got left. I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”
“Son, we’ve talked about this. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it’s just not the smartest—”
“Dad, can’t you just trust me? For once, can’t you just trust that I’m capable of taking care of things, of making good decisions? Of executing a well thought-out plan?”
His expression softens. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s that you’re all I’ve got left, too. And I’ve brought so much misery to your life. I want you to go and live a happy, normal life. A life like you would’ve had if I’d died in that fire, too.”
“Dad, I could never be happy letting you languish in here.”
He grins. “Languish?”
I smile. “Law school improved my vocabulary.”
He starts to say something then changes his mind.
“What?” I ask.
“I was just gonna say that I was proud of you before you went to law school. Ever since you were young, you were always happy just being you. You were gonna do what you wanted to do, the rest of the world be damned. I was always proud of that tough streak. I’ve always admired that kind of confidence and self-assurance.”
I feel emotion squeeze around my throat like a fist. I guess you never get too old to crave your father’s approval. Or at least I haven’t yet.
“Cash, please don’t let that tough streak make your decisions for you. There’s a time to give up, to let things go. If you care about this girl, go find her and make her happy. Keep her safe. Give her a life away from all this. Start fresh. If you love her even half as much as I loved your mother, you’ll have a good life. And that’s all I want for you.”