[ RF ] A man offers you a cigarette . You see the man , to your surprise , to be your Dad .

I step out of the bar with my phone pressed to my ear, “ Say that again, babe. It ’ s too loud in the bar for me to hear you. ” My boyfriend never calls me in the middle of a shift, so I knew something was up. Two people stood outside with me – one of our regulars that smoked menthol cigarettes and only drank Schlitz tall boys, and an older guy that looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn ’ t figure out why. He walked up to the door to go inside, and then saw me and stopped. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to figure out how we knew each other, but turned around as my boyfriend spoke. 
 
 “ I, uh… I just got home and found a note taped to the door… ” he trailed off. He sounded confused, a little flustered. Something was definitely wrong. 
 
 “ What ’ s going on? What did the note say? ” I asked frantically, plugging one ear to drown out the noise of the traffic. 
 
 “ It ’ s… Well, it ’ s your dad. ” I froze. 
 
 “ What? ” There ’ s no way… “ What did he do now? He ’ s got more than three years left. Is he dead or something? ” I spun on my heel, beginning to pace. I hadn ’ t spoken to my father in more than twenty years. 
 
 “ No. It was him, ” my boyfriend said slowly, “ He left the note. He was here. ” Ice ran down my spine, my heart jumped into my throat, my stomach fell into my heels. 
 
 “ No, ” I said, staring blankly at the sidewalk beneath my feet, “ NO. There is no possible way. He ’ s doing twenty five years in Cook County for murder, there is no fucking way he was at our apartment. ” My mind started racing. Jailbreak? Good behavior? Parole? How in the hell… I fumbled in my hoodie pocket for my cigarettes, which I realized were sitting comfortably next to the register behind the bar. Fuck. 
 
 “ Smoke? ” I looked up to see the older man offering me a cigarette, one Marlboro red pointing towards me out of the pack. I looked him in the eye, and suddenly it hit me. I was suddenly covered in goose bumps, my eyes undeniably the size of dinner plates. 
 
 “ Hannah, I don ’ t know how, but it ’ s signed by him, it ’ s his handwriting, it doesn ’ t make any sense, but I think... ” my boyfriend ’ s voice faded as the realization dawned on me. 
 
 “ I… I got ta … I ’ ll call you back, Jeff. ” I hung up my phone even though I could hear my boyfriend protesting and asking questions on the other end. “ What the hell are you doing here? ” I asked. 
 
 “ Do you want a smoke, or no? Do you smoke? I figured if you ’ re a bartender now, you probably smoke… ” he trailed off, a half-smile playing on his lips, blue eyes all glittering with happiness and laughter. Same eyes I have. Same eyes my sister had. 
 “ No, I don ’ t want your fucking cigarette. Get the fuck out of here before I call the police. Again. ” I turned to walk inside 
 
 “ Hey, come on. Is that any way to treat your old man? I went to a lot of trouble to track you down, you know. Can ’ t I come have a beer and we can talk? ” He almost sounded genuine. 
 
 “ No. No you can not come inside my bar. You can not have a beer and we can not talk., ” I spun around to face him, heart pounding, “ You had such a hard time finding me for a reason. I changed my name for a reason. Go. Away. ” 
 
 “ Hannah, please, ” he begged, reaching both hands out to me, palms up, “ Let me explain. ” I laughed. I actually laughed in his face. 
 
 “ Explain what?! ” Now I was really pissed off, “ Explain how you killed my sister? Explain how you were so many different kinds of fucked up that I had to call 911? I was 8! She was 12! You don ’ t get to explain a god damn thing! Fuck you! ” I turned, whipped the door open, and stormed behind the bar. I grabbed my cigarettes and walked right out the back door to the alley without saying a word to anyone. I saw the sideways glances that customers gave me, and my bar back looked after me, and then looked out front. My dad stood there, smoking a cigarette, looking inside as I disappeared out eh back door. 
 
 Marlboro Reds. No matter how much I hated him, it was simple things like that that made my whole body vibrate with anger. He doesn ’ t get to just show up at my house. Or my job. He doesn ’ t get to have a beer with me and “ talk. ” 
 
 I shook my head as I exhaled smoke. This old, faintly familiar old man that made me do a double take turns out to be my father. I hadn ’ t seen him since I testified in court against him at eight years old. He had been coked out of his brains, two bottles of shitty Canadian whiskey deep, and when my sister wouldn ’ t stop bothering him for dinner, he hit her. He hit her so hard that her tiny little body spun in a half circle before falling against the glass coffee table. Blunt force trauma. She was dead before I ran into the living room, asking Daddy about the loud noises. He could hardly keep his eyes open, let alone focused on the baseball game that was blaring on the TV. I screamed and cried and tried to wake Ashley up, and all he could manage to do was push me over with his foot as I knelt over my big sister. I ran and called 911 like my grandma had taught me to do, and I told the court the same thing. I hated that they took my daddy away. But I hated him for taking my sister away more. 
 
 Twenty-one and a half years later, he shows up at my bar. Un-fucking-believable. I heaved the back door open and stepped back inside. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs and memories, and there he was, sitting at my bar, seat sic, drinking a Miller Light and watching Sports Center, like he didn ’ t have a care in the god damn world. I took a deep breath, threw my shoulders back, and walked back to my position behind the bar. Kyle, my bar back looked at me with one eyebrow raised. 
 “ Did he start a tab? ” I asked Kyle, nodding over my shoulder toward my dad. 
 
 “ Uh, no. He paid cash, ” Kyle started, “ Who is – “ I spun around to face my dad, cutting Kyle off. 
 
 “ I ’ m sorry, sir, but I ’ m going to have to ask you to leave, ” I mustered all of the supreme ice queen coolness I could and looked him in the eye. 
 
 “ Come on, Hannah, seriously, I just – “ 
 
 “ Sir, ” I cut him off, “ I have the right to refuse service to anyone at any time for any reason. ” 
 
 “ I know, ” he started to talk over me, “ But, sweetie, just— “ 
 
 “ I am not your sweetie, and I will not continue to serve you. You can leave on your own now, or I will call the police. ” My voice was hoarse, and I was starting to lose my composure. He sighed and stared at the bar in front of him for a moment. 
 
 “ Okay, ” he took one final swig of his beer and stood up. He struggled a bit; the signs of an old man who had lived too hard and too fast for too long. As he pushed his stool back in, he set a piece of paper on the bar. “ Just call me, okay? Hannah? Whenever you can. ” 
 
 The cool autumn air rushed in when he opened the door, and I waited until he had turned the corner and was out of sight before slipping down to the floor, hugging my knees, and sobbing. 

