“Sorry,” he said. “I was watching television when Derek came to get me.”

I didn’t say anything. My dad never used to sit around. He went to bed late and got up early. He was busy doing lots of things all the time. Even at our birthday parties he would take calls and step out for meetings.

He yawned again. Like this was boring for him.

“Sorry, buddy. I’m just…I think it’s a stress reaction. I’ve been sleeping a lot, lately. My counselor says I’m trying to hide from my feelings.”

His feelings? What about my feelings? Mom’s? Kate’s? What about Isbell’s feelings? Missy Stephenson’s feelings?

Our talk hadn’t even started, but I hated it so much I felt like I was going to throw up if it went on much longer.

“Rodney,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “What do you know about what’s happened?”

My eyes felt like there was sand in them. “I don’t know,” I said.

“Don’t try to be funny,” he said. Like I would ever make a joke about this, the worst moment of my life, except for the moment when I thought King was dead.

“I know you were trying to date some women. On set and stuff. Like women who wanted you to leave them alone.”

He wasn’t yawning now.

He sucked in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. His eyes were wet. So were mine and he hadn’t even started talking.

“I have exercised bad judgment. Upon occasion. In work situations and elsewhere.”

I didn’t say anything because even I knew that wasn’t an explanation.

“I have a problem, Rodney,” said my dad. “And it has affected other people.”

The hole in my chest felt like it belonged in space. Cold, black, and infinities-wide and deep. “What kind of problem?”

“I have been,” he said. “Been—” His eyelids fluttered, like he was about to pass out.

What was he even talking about?

“What?” I said.

“I have been inappropriate. With women,” he said. “With a number of women. Who were not your mother. I made them uncomfortable. I took liberties.”

“Liberties?” I said. Liberties means freedom. He took the freedom of some women who were not my mother.

“I had feelings for some women who worked for me or that I met at work. And I behaved in a way I ought not to have done.” His accent was getting stronger. “My behavior was inexcusable.”

“What did you do to Isbell?” I asked. The words just fell out of my mouth.

His mouth dropped open and his face turned red and then a chalky gray.