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In the ensuing time, even though Javi had several meets with his sisters, sometimes both of them, or one or the other, and sometimes even without me (one could say Javi was digging on having siblings), and they texted each other often, he didn’t mention his dad again.
He even met Patrick, and I was definitely there then.
But Patrick was what we were expecting him to be—a complete jerk—though this was heightened when he took in all that was Javi, his insecurity came to the fore, and so did his douchebaggery.
In other words, there wasn’t a repeat of that, and we weren’t the only ones who decreed this. Julie and Cath laid down that law too by laying into Patrick right in front of Javi and me.
I knew extending an olive branch to his dad was on Javi’s mind.
I knew he’d share or talk with me if he needed to, because that was what we did, that was who we were (and it was awesome).
But I also knew Javi had made a decision, and so it was going to happen.
I was just glad he was taking his time and deciding when it was right for him.
And that was all I needed to know.
On the other hand, my family situation was surprisingly a lot messier.
Easton had shared about my no contact thing, and neither Mom nor Dad took it very well.
Since I’d blocked them both, Javi and I got an early Saturday morning buzz at the gate when we were at my place the weekend after I started my organizing thing with Shirleen and we visited Javi’s mom.
Javi answered the buzzer.
When Javi heard who was there, he told them to go fuck themselves.
I, on the other hand, went to the gate to finish things.
Javi dogged my heels.
Mom was a bitch.
Dad was a wreck.
I reiterated my stance.
Mom pitched a fit.
Dad looked like he was going to cry.
Javi slammed the gate on them as he guided me away.
Bottom line?
I unblocked Dad, and about once a month I had a stilted, uncomfortable brunch or lunch with him that Javi insisted on attending with me.
Mom and Easton, though, were out.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, at our last lunch, Dad shared he and Mom were getting a divorce.
I could tell it was bothering him.
But I was glad he, too, would soon be free.
Just like me.
I couldn’t block Easton from my email, and he sent me one, sharing his sentiments that I was solely to blame for our parents’ breakup, adding that Mom agreed.