come get me?â Sean was stranded on La Cienega Boulevard, not far from the restaurant. I ran downstairs to get my car.
I was livid. The last thing I wanted, especially on Seanâs birthday, was for him to experience anything like I had experienced as a child. I wasnât going to hold my tongue just because we had some TV deal. I called my father and said, âYou promised. You promised you would not attack or hurt my son! You are a monster and I hate you!â The past slammed into the present, and out spilled years of pent-up rage. He couldnât get away with this. Not anymore.
âI hate you,â I screamed. âYou and your fucking gross problems.â
Before he could respond, I hung up the phone, so angry I couldnât stop shaking. Ryan had already threatened to quit the show over much smaller issues. I knew he would quit for real this time. Well, so be it. No TV show was worth the destruction to my family and me. Iâd come to himâand to the projectâdetermined to love him until he could love himself, but as it turned out, that was easier said than done. It was over. We were over. All that work and effortâit had been thrown out on La Cienega with his grandson.
Twenty minutes later, Sean and I arrived back at my apartment and talked about what had happened. Sean and my father have plenty in common. Sean is careful and methodical. He keeps his stuff neat, just like Ryan. They both like sports. They were a good roommate match for a while. But the moodiness I had witnessed in my father had gotten worse since I had left the beach house. There wasnât anything Sean could do right. Sean felt as though he was trying to stay out of Ryanâs way, but no matter what, he was still underfoot. Perhaps this was why I sensed they were both edgy when they arrived at the restaurant.
According to Sean, the fight was triggered by a discussion Sean, his stepsister Ruby, and I had at dinner about the fact that Sean didnât want to appear on the upcoming TV show. Sean felt that the show should be about me and my father; it was, after all, subtitled âRyan and Tatum.â It was our business, our relationship, not his. I understood that and had no need to bring him into it. But, for whatever reason, Ryan seemed to take Seanâs decision as a rejection. At the time, this was the only explanation I could come up with. In any case, Ryan had overheard Ruby, Sean, and me talking. He waited until Sean got in the car, then turned around and said, âTell me right now youâre not going to be in the show.â
Sean said, âIâm not going to be in the show, Grandpa.â
Ryan said, âGet out of my car.â This baffled me. Why did Ryan need Sean to participate? What did it mean to him that Sean chose not to? Why had Ryan thrown Sean out of the car? As far as I was concerned, people donât leave their grandchildren in the middle of La Cienega Boulevard. Period.
As predicted, soon after I yelled at him on the phone, Ryan sent me a text saying to tell the people at Endemol that he had quit the show. I texted back, âIf you want to quit, please do it yourself.â
Chapter Eleven
Cause and Effect
WITHIN A FEW days I found Sean an apartment a couple of blocks from mine. I was relieved that he was finally out of Ryanâs house, but devastated that everything weâd worked for had fallen apart. We hadnât even begun filming, and the show had already changed everything. This wasnât Paper Moon âwe werenât a movie star in his prime and an eight-year-old girl who hung on his every word. The show was about us, as flawed adults, and it forced all of our issues to the surface in an unnatural way. It made Ryan tense and uncertain, so he lashed out at Sean. It weakened me, because now we shared a commitment. The show was a documentary but was already affecting how we lived. Was it all a huge mistake?
Was Ryan capable of being the father I
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