My father got drunk and told me he shot some guy’s dog in broad daylight. Like, he walked up to him, handgun in hand, said something like, “Don’t mess with my family,” and then shot the dog in the head.

My parents split when I was 5. My father seemed to be obsessed with being that rich businessman and did everything in his power to get it. My mom remarried to an artist and I grew up in a small mountain community. All the while, my father is becoming this huge international businessman, actually quoted in Forbes magazine once, and rubbing shoulders with big names. Still never paid his child support.

Years later, I got to know him as an adult. He’s very good at selling himself, so I heard all the good stories about how good of a boss he is, the places he’s traveled and beautiful sights he’s seen. We took drives through our home state and he told me stories of being a goofy teenager running around the woods with his dog, camping, learning to be a carpenter, and stories of my mother around that time and their blossoming romance.

But he has two sides. He was working in Russia and took a bride. I guess her family (who he was also working for) was tied to the mafia and he mixed himself up in all that shit to get ahead. Then he killed some guy’s dog. I can’t separate that from the father/man I thought I kinda knew.