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The first time Nick truly doubted his dad, he was nine. Glenn had promised he would pick Nick up after school and take him to Dave and Busters. Nick had been thoroughly excited, the dual prize of spending time with his father and spending that time at the arcade.
It was not that Nick was excited to hang out with Glenn because Glenn was not around; in fact Glenn likely was around entirely too much, spending time with Nick as if he were a friend, often trying to form close relationships with Nick’s friends. He took on the reputation of the ‘cool dad,’ often playing video games with him or wrestling or passing over a joint, treating Nick as an equal. Of course, this treatment could be good, but Glenn refused to implement discipline, instead not bothering to lecture his son when he shoplifted, only giving him a side eye that could equally be read as a pat on the back as a disapproving one. But Nick still basked in the time he spent with his father, becoming aware that many did not get to spend such close time with their fathers, many not considering their fathers their best friend.
So he sat, waiting for his father to pull up far too fast in the rusting van, sporting the Glenn Close Trio’s insignia on the side, blasting the horn and playing some metal band that would make Nick’s third grade teacher worry about his home life.
Like many elementary aged children, he ran around with his friends as they one by one got picked up, unconcerned about his own father’s absence. The teachers slowly left as the sun sank lower, some shooting concerned looked his way, others even daring to walk over and ask quietly if he had someone coming to pick him up. He responded yes, shooting a large grin at all of them, happily explaining the plan for the evening.
Finally, a young receptionist who introduced herself as Ms. Isa walked over, her face creased with concern. She insisted he come inside the office and call his dad, informing him that several hours had passed since the end of school. So he did, and as he waited while the phone rang he felt his stomach sink with every buzz. It eventually clicked over to voicemail, and Nick’s voice was dejected as he reminded his father of their outing.
Ms. Isa placed him in a chair across from her desk, watching him with an odd look that he would only recognize as pity in later years. The sun was orange when a man in a uniform walked in, and he spoke in a hushed voice to her, the pair glancing at Nick occasionally, before walking over to Nick.
The officer explained to Nick that Glenn had been pulled over for speeding and found guilty of driving under the influence. The man paused before informing Nick that Glenn would be in jail for about a week and he would have to stay with one of Glenn’s bandmates.
After he was released, Glenn explained to Nick that he had been rushing to get to the school after an impromptu gig - Nick realized years later that was code for karaoke and a date. He had grinned tiredly at Nick, and gave a short apology for missing their night, promising to make it up another time. Nick had smiled, ready to move on and forgive him in the way only children can, and Glenn had ruffled his hair.
The matter was put behind them, and Nick mostly forgot about it, only occasionally remembering on the days Glenn ran a little behind to pick him up from soccer or a friends house.
---
Nick was eleven when Glenn first left him alone overnight. He had certainly been home alone before - there were many afternoons where Nick came home after school and Glenn didn’t return until the sun had set - but anytime Glenn was going out of town or ended up being out past ten he sent a babysitter, usually one of his bandmates kids or the older lady down the street.
But that day Nick had gotten home and found the house empty, an incident that was becoming more and more common. He did his homework and played some video games, snacking on a bag of hot cheetos that were a little stale. By seven he was glancing at the stovetop clock, wondering if he should order in pizza or hope that dad would be home soon to cook.
He determined pizza would be best at eight, and he ignored the strange look the older boy gave him, simply handing over a bundle of bills he had found in his dad’s underwear drawer and shutting the door.
It was nearly eleven when Glenn called - Nick himself had sent a couple of texts, wondering when he would get home, but they had not been responded to. He picked up immediately, pausing his movie.
“Hey Nicky,” the man’s voice was strangely elongated, the way it got when he drank a little too much, “so I got caught up in a gig -” there is a noise in the background and then his voice got a little clearer, “um, and it’s too late to call up Elana, so I figured you’re old enough to stay by yourself - that’s chill right?”
Nick glances at the door, which was unlocked in case Glenn lost his keys, and then answered, using the cheery voice he employed when convincing adults that everything was just fine, thank you very much.
“Yeah, dad. It’s fine - should I leave the door unlocked or will you -” his voice trails off, hoping that there would be no need to finish his sentence.
There is a crackling chuckle, and the same distant noise from before, as Glenn reponds, “Nah - I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, yeah?”
Nick is quiet, closing his eyes as he hears the words he had hoped not to, letting out a long breath and nearly forcing himself to respond when the phone went dead and he was left in the house alone.
---
Nick realized his father didn’t really want him when he was nearly fourteen. Before then, he believed fully that his father loved him. He knew by this point that Glenn was a little strange in showing affection, instead of the traditional bonding experiences he played video games and smoked weed. He knew he wasn’t around as much as some fathers, often leaving for a week before crashing back at the house for a couple of days.
But it was the weekend before his birthday when it set in, the idea that this was not simply that Glenn needed to work, or that he was bad at showing affection. He was throwing a small party, and went to the kitchen to get soda when he overheard his father on the phone.
“Well, yeah, there’s a lot of advantages to doing long haul trucking - I mean for one, you get to see the countryside, and, well you don’t have to hang out with your kid that much -”
Nick paused, sure he had misheard, that his dad wouldn’t say something like that, only to hear confirmation.
“Come on, I know it sounds bad, but I never really wanted this, he just makes it harder to do shit.”
The bottle fell to the ground, and Nick swore under his breath, snatching it up before it could pour it all out. Glenn rushes into the room, phone by his side.
“Fuck man, what happened?”
Nick looked at him out of the corner of his eye, feeling a rush of anger at the concern that he now knew was faked on Glenn’s face.
“Nothing, Glenn.”
---
Nick was fifteen when he first carried his father. There had been an insistent knocking at the door, and he had almost ignored it, almost deciding it was just some homeless man, some sign that it was time for Nick to finally put out his blunt and go to bed. But the knocking didn’t stop, and there was yelling that joined in, and something about the voice changed his mind.
He opened the door, and found Glenn sitting on the steps, his fist still pounding the screen door. Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Glenn,” the man looked at him, his eyes unfocused, “Glenn, stand up, I can’t open the fucking door with you there.”
Glenn tried to push himself up, only to stumble down the cinder block stairs, falling back on his ass. Nick rubbed his eyes, muttering to himself, thankful that he could at least open the door now.
He stepped out into the cool air, glancing around to make sure neighbors weren’t snooping, before remembering that it was far too late, really early, for anyone to care. He stooped down, grabbing Glenn by the armpits, yanking him up to lean on his shoulders.
The pair tried to get up, but Glenn’s foot kept slipping, ramming into the stair, causing him to let out a string of curses. Nick huffed, and internally wanted to scream at Glenn, but he simply shifted and hiked the older man onto his back.
As Nick crossed the living room, struggling to keep Glenn from falling off, the aforementioned man continued to slur loudly into his ear.
“Nicky! I was talkin’ about you earlier! My son - you kno’ you look soooo much like your mum? ‘Specially your -”
Nick closed his eyes, “Glenn, shut up.”
Glenn smacked him, “‘m your dad! Don’ tell me to, to, shut up!”
He rolls his eyes, pushing open the door to Glenn’s room, stepping over the piles of clothes on the floor.
“Whatever, dad , just don’t make me fucking carry you again.”
He drops Glenn onto the bed, and is nearly out the door when he hears a small voice from behind him.
“Sorry ‘m such a shit dad. Don’ want to be.”
Nick takes a deep breath, trying to not yell the drunken man.
“I know,” Nick said, “I know you don’t want to be a dad.”