My hands balled up into fists.
“I guess that’s the part I have to accept,” my father said.
“I’m happy,” I said. “I’m happy with my job. I’m happy with my love life. My choices. I’m happy with everything. You don’t have to worry about me so much anymore. You can live your own life.”
“You know, Madison, I just never wanted anything bad to happen to you,” my father said. “Maybe my decisions were too overbearing at times. I just never wanted to lose you.”
“You haven’t lost me,” I said. “Not even close. I’m right here.”
“I promise you, Alonso, I will never hurt her,” Maverick said. “I’m going to take care of her as long as she wants me to. No matter what.”
“Then face me like a man, Maverick,” my father said. “Right now. Let’s go.”
My father unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “This is stupid…”
My heart began to race a little.
Maverick broke away from me and walked to my father.
The two faced off with one another.
My father lifted his tight fists and nodded.
Maverick took a fighting stance and did the same thing.
I clapped my hands. “Hey! You two! This is not a fucking hockey game! This is real life!”
“This is real life,” my father said.
“Yes, it is,” Maverick said. “I will fight for her name, her honor, and her love. No matter what.”
“I get one, right?” my father asked.
He showed Maverick his right fist.
Maverick stepped back and nodded.
“No,” I said. “No, this is stupid.”
They both ignored me.
My father brought his right fist back.
I froze up, not sure what to do.
When my father threw his right fist forward, he lowered it, and he opened his hand.
Maverick grabbed my father’s hand.
The two then smiled and nodded at each other.
They were shaking hands.
In silence.
I had no idea what kind of hockey machismo bullshit routine this was…