38. Matt

"My name is Martin Harrison, and I'm an addict."

The tears shining in Dad's eyes make my throat tighten. He brings his hands to his face and holds them there for a long minute before speaking. I stare at the tile floor, running the toe of my shoe along a crack in one of the corners.

"I used to think that my life was a mess, that I couldn't do anything right. My business crashed, I lost my life savings, my house…" He sneaks a look at me. "The respect of my family."

Dad takes a deep, shuddering breath. I put my hand on his shoulders and give it a little squeeze as my eyes sting. I blink fast, nodding at him to continue.

"I thought if I could just catch a small break, make a little money, I'd be able to fix everything that was broken. But desperation and fear had me biting off more than I could chew. And little bets turned into big ones, ones that risked my entire mortgage." His shoulders quiver. "I stole money from my son to cover bets. I begged him to help me win bets. I guilted him into compromising his ethics because I was so ill and unwilling to get help. I dug a deep hole for myself and put my whole family in serious jeopardy, all because I was desperate to fix my life. I didn't realize that by trying to fix it, I was crushing it into dust."

He looks up, eyeing the sympathetic eyes around the quiet circle, the eyes that say, "We got you, Martin. We've been there. We understand."

"I could have lost my kids a week ago. Someone I owed money to went after them, had a gun. He wanted to hurt them. To kill them. All because of me and the mistakes I made. I was selfish and self-absorbed, only thinking about making myself and my circumstances better, never once thinking about the effect my behavior was having on everyone else."

He pauses and turns his head toward me. "For years, my son begged me to get help. He sent money every month to pay the bills and take care of my younger daughters. That was money for our family, and I took it because I needed to prove to myself that I could be better. That I could win. Now I realize that winning didn't have to do with the money. I had already won. I was just too blind to see what I had in front of me. Instead, I was chasing the wrong prize. But I want to be better. I want to get help. I want to fix what's broken, and I know now that I can only do it by dealing with my addiction. And that's what I'm going to do. Matt, I swear, I will be better. I don't want to lose any more time."

I give a quick nod, my throat swelling to the point where I can't even choke out a word.

"Thank you for sharing, Martin." Kareena, the group leader, smiles warmly at us. "Who'd like to go next?"

We stay for the rest of the meeting and mingle a bit afterward. I sign a few autographs, and in the back of my mind wonder how many of these people have lost or won bets because of my performance, or lack thereof, on the field.

We walk outside once everyone finishes up their coffee and donuts. Mom and the girls are back at my place. Dad only wanted me to come with him to the meeting. Today is probably the closest I've felt to him in years because I feel like he was finally honest with himself and with me, not to mention the strangers around us.

Maybe it's wishful thinking, but I really believe he wants to get better.

He didn't fight me a bit when I told him I wanted them all to move up here. Rusty's break-in really shook him. Sometimes it takes a near tragedy to realize you need to make a major change.

I wasn't about to let the girls go, and I told my parents that. Even with Rusty and his dim bulb of a brother in jail, there would be others. There are always other demons lurking. No way was I letting him fall back into old patterns with the girls as possible prey.

He didn't fight me on it. At all. Gone was the stubborn ass who insisted he knew best and how he could provide for his family. He, Mom, and the girls moved into the house I bought them right on the edge of the city, a place where I know they'll be safe. Zak had a connection at a local car restoration shop and was able to get my dad a job doing what he loves.

I, for one, am sick of losing time, time that can be spent doing normal family things with the people I love instead of me driving hours outside the city to throw cash at criminals who're holding my dad and sister hostage.

I want them with me.

And they want that, too.

We can fix this.

"Zak's therapist gave him a recommendation for someone who specializes in gambling addiction," I say as we walk toward my truck. "I made you an appointment."

"Thank you, son." Dad lets out a breath. "I can't believe I let things get this far. I still think about that crazy Rusty with a gun in your face, and it makes me sick to my stomach because I brought it onto you."

"Yeah, well, you didn't make it better, but let's face it, Rusty was always a psycho motherfucker. He always hated me. This just gave him an excuse to come after me."

"I don't know what I would have done if I'd have lost you three." Dad stops, all choked up, and tugs at my arm.

"But you didn't. Don't dwell on what could have happened. We're all fine. You're doing the right thing by moving here. You're getting help. You and Mom are going to make a new life here in Cincinnati with the girls."

"Matthew, I know I never said it enough, but you and the girls and your mom are everything. I'm sorry my head was so buried up my ass to realize all the good I had in front of me. And all the money in the world never could replace you all."

I look at him. "I believe you, Dad. I know how hard it was for you to admit all of that in front of strangers, no less. I'm…I'm proud of you."

He reaches for me and pulls me into a tight hug. "And I'm so proud of you. Thank you for always being there for us, for taking care of us when I lost my way."

"The important thing is you're finding it again." I smile, a whiff of his signature cologne, Royal Copenhagen, wafts under my nose.

Anytime I'd smell it as a kid I'd always feel safe and comforted because Dad was nearby. When I got older and smelled it, it made me wish for the days where it was the only assurance I'd need that everything would be okay because Dad was around.

Funny, it only ever made me sad, not angry or resentful.

And maybe a little hopeful that one day I'd feel the way I did as a kid again.

Maybe now it's finally time.