A sleek car pulled up beside a quaint florists shop, its windows brimming with fresh blooms. The little store, new to the neighbourhood, had already won over the locals, drawing customers from nearby towns for its exquisite arrangements.
“Could you pick out the most beautiful bouquet you have? The biggest one, too. Ive just had a son!” beamed the young man, his face alight with joy as he addressed the florist.
On the drive to the hospital, Edward pictured the moment hed cradle his newbornthe moment hed become the father he never had. Memories of his own dad weighed heavy. The only bright one: being lifted high by a towering figure, equal parts thrilling and terrifying. But soon after, Charles Whitmore walked out, leaving his wife and ten-year-old son with nothing.
It began with his mothers friend, Veronica, a nurse who started dropping by for dinners, always with a bottle of gin. When Edwards mum protested, Veronica would wave her off. “Oh, relax! Whats the harm? Its just to whet the appetite.” Shed flash a smile. “Youre lucky to have such a wonderful husband. He deserves spoiling.”
One evening, Veronica invited them to her birthday party across town, where she lived with her two daughters. All night, she fawned over Charles, refilling his glass, laughing too loud at his jokes.
Then, one day, Edward came home from football practice to raised voices in the kitchen.
“Im leaving. And yes, I love Veronica. Theres nothing left between usno love, no respect. She *values* me. Unlike you,” his father spat.
“She values your *wallet*, you fool,” his mother shot back.
“Knew youd say that. Always the drama. Oh, and were selling the flat. Splitting the money.”
“*What?* Have you no shame? That was my parents wedding gift to *us*!”
“Exactly. To *us*. Joint property.”
“And what about our son? Wheres he supposed to live? Eat? Sleep?!”
“Did *you* think about me living in a one-bed with the woman I love and her two girls? I just want whats fair…”
For two years, Edward and his mother squeezed into his grandparents house. Later, they took out a mortgage, scraping together a home of their own. His mum remarried, and after Edward graduated and wed, the stepfather transferred the flat to him.
*Ill love my son. Ill never betray himor Emily,* Edward vowed, driving back from the hospital. The next few days would be a whirlwind of baby gear and nursery prep. Theyd held off buying things earlyEmily was superstitious that way.
As he neared his house, Edward spotted a balding stranger loitering near the porch. Something about the man tugged at his memory.
“Eddie! Hello, son! Dont recognise me?”
“Dad?…”
“The very same! Saw you step out of that fancy car. Nice motor, by the way.”
“Sorry, Im in a rush.” Edward clenched his fists, sidestepping him.
“Sorry? Rush? No need for formalitieswere family. How about a quick chat? Man to man?”
On any other day, Edward wouldve walked away. But today, buoyed by joy, he strode toward the door without a word. Charles took the silence as invitation and followed.
“Lovely place youve got here. Plenty of space,” the older man remarked, eyeing the rooms. “Done well for yourself. More than capable of helping your old man out.”
“What are you on about?”
“Dont play dumb. First, youve got spare rooms. Second, you can clearly afford to fix my problems. And Ive got *problems*, son.”
“Your problems stopped being mine twenty years ago. Were strangers. What do you *want*?”
“Got into a row with Veronicas son-in-law. Called me a freeloader! *Me!* After all I did for themworked the factory line, put roofs over their heads. But the second I retired? Kicked out like rubbish. Left with debts *she* took in my name. I just want whats fair…”
“Fair? Whats that got to do with *me*?”
“Veronica and I never married. Shes nothing to me. But you? My blood. If your mum hadnt remarried, Idve gone to her first. We raised you together, didnt we?”
“So you think youve got rights after taking half the money from *Mums* flat and vanishing? You didnt even pay child support, *Dad*.”
“That money went toward Veronicas place, holidaysnothing wrong with that! Mistake was footing her daughters weddings and honeymoons. Youll understand, son. Help me. After the way theyve wronged me…”
“Holidays? Mum and I scraped by. She worked double shifts. I handed out flyers at thirteen, then mopped cars after school.”
“Thats my boy. Hope you wont abandon your father now.”
“I lost my father at ten.”
“But Im here now. Better late than never, eh? Well make up for lost time.”
“How?”
“That spare roomjust till Im back on my feet. Bloods thicker than water.”
“That rooms for my son. Whoever gave you this address shouldve told you: I became a father today. And Ill be a *proper* one. Now leave. Ive got a cot to buy.” He pointed to the door.
Outside, Charles called after him.
“Eddie! Thats a top-notch car. Downgrade, keep the difference, settle my debts. Do the right thing”
“Youre a traitor. I needed a father as a boy. Now? I dont need *you*. And if I see you again, I wont be responsible for what happens.”
Edward marched to his car, leaving the man gaping on the pavement. Not an ounce of pity stirred in him. This was the right choicefor his son. For the childhood *hed* never have.
