I don't know why I still cared what my dad thought, especially about something like this. It was fixing a fence, for chrissakes. Why I wanted his approval was beyond me. Especially since I didn't have it anywhere else in my life. At this point, what the hell difference did a fence make?
He bent over, turning toward me after examining the fourth post. "You boys did a nice job with this fence," he said.
"I still remember something you taught me."
He was silent, considering what I said. "Not everything."
Fuck. Here we go, I thought. "What, dad?" I turned to face him. "I can see you're itching to say something. Why don't you go ahead and say it?"
"Alright," he said. "You, this motorcycle club? What are you protecting that family from? What are you involved in?"
I sighed. "It's complicated, dad."
"Not from where I stand. From where I stand it's pretty simple."
"For you it is."
"It should be just as clear to you," he said. "Right is right, and wrong is wrong, Cade. And you, this motorcycle gang, it's not right."
"What do you know about it, dad?" I asked. But I knew he was right, didn't I? This shit with Mad Dog had just confirmed it. "Have you ever tried to understand it?"
"I don't need to understand it," he said. "You've joined a gang, a bunch of criminals."
"That's not what it's about." I could feel my heart rate increasing, the blood pumping in my ears. I was just being argumentative.
"Why don't you tell me what it's about, then? You tell me how you justify doing the things you've been doing."
"It's about having a family, dad. It's a brotherhood." It sounded lame, even to my ears. That's what it had been about, at first. Until it wasn't anymore. Until it was about greed, betrayal. Darkness.
"Because your family here, that wasn't good enough?"
"You're upset because I left West Bend? Because I left you and mom and went out on my own?"
"Of course not. Don't be an idiot."
"Then what is it?" I asked. "Because I didn't come back here and run the ranch? Or is it that I just didn't live up to your expectations?"
"No, you didn't live up to my expectations," he said. "We were proud of you, your mother and I. You had a purpose, an honorable job in the Marines. Now, you come home, dragging a family with you, running from God knows what, nothing good - and nothing legal, I'm sure - looking like hell, covered in tattoos, reeking of booze." He paused, drawing a long breath. "Hell, Cade, I'd say, you haven't lived up to your own expectations."
There it was. The disappointment I'd been waiting for. "Honorable?" I laughed bitterly. "What exactly do you think I did in the Marines, Pop? That's what I don't fucking get. How do you think what I do now is all that different from what I did before?"
"You know there's a difference, Cade. I may not know what you're doing now, but I know it's not legal."
"Legal," I said, practically spitting out the word. "Legal? That's all that matters?"
"No, it's not, son," he said. "You used to have more honor than this, Cade."
"Honor," I said. "You want to know what I do now? Who I am? I provide protection for the club. You want to know why Crunch is here? Because I was ordered to kill him. And when the club finds out I didn't, they're going to come after us, and try to kill us." My dad was silent, and I could feel myself gathering momentum, losing control of what I was saying.
"You think that's terrible, that I've somehow changed into someone else, someone I wasn't before. You want to pretend I was some kind of hero Marine, just because I got a fucking award. Do you understand what my job was in the Marines? I was a sniper, dad. My job, the one you think was about having principles, being a hero - I took people out. It's the same thing I've done for the club."
I paused, only to catch my breath, watching my dad's expression. He was stony-faced, staring at me. "You want to pretend there's some kind of good guy underneath this, some kind of hero that'll just come out if I get away from the MC? There's nothing, dad. There never was. You think I'm doing something different, that the MC has changed me. It's just a different fucking uniform I'm wearing. Only this one isn't the one you're proud of showing to your friends. But it's the same damn thing."
He was silent for a moment, then looked at me, his eyes narrowed. "It's not the same thing, Cade. I don't think that, not for a goddamned minute. And I don’t think you believe it, either."
June
"Hey Connie C.," I called as I walked through the front door. The bell chimed, and the air conditioning blew against my face as I stepped into the grocery store.
"Hey, honey." Connie looked up from where she stood, stocking produce. "How are things going at the house?"
"It's good. I just needed a couple things, and then I'll be back to organizing. I have to do all the yard work, add some fresh paint, that kind of thing."