Chapter 25
Jane
“P eyton is at Simon Fraser,” Dad says. “Did I tell you?”
“No,” I say, “but she did.” I cut up my chicken but don’t put any in my mouth. I don’t have an appetite.
My father eats as though he’s ravenous, and he talks in between bites without paying attention to my responses. “She’s studying biology. Why couldn’t she do that at U of C? So much closer.”
“Mm.”
When I was a year older than her, you moved to the other side of the country. You never cared about being close to me when I was in school.
We’re at the kitchen table, since Evan and I still haven’t gotten around to purchasing a dining room table for when we have visitors. I wish I could eat with him instead. It would be much more enjoyable.
Every word my father says is a reminder of what he didn’t do for me.
Absently, I wonder whether he ever bragged about me when I was Peyton’s age. Maybe he did, even if he had nothing to do with any of my successes. But I can’t imagine him wishing that I stayed home for university. Instead, I felt like he was glad to get rid of me.
“She said something about ecology.” He makes a dismissive gesture. “Hopefully, we can convince her to write the MCAT.”
I imagine Peyton rolling her eyes at this comment. I feel a moment of regret that my dad never tried to convince me to do things I didn’t want to do, as ridiculous as it is. Maybe that would have made me feel like he cared.
“Kay is so smart,” he says. “Though he doesn’t want me to call him that anymore. He’s on the badminton team at school…”
I tune out as he talks about Kaden’s achievements.
I didn’t think it would be different this time. I really didn’t. I’m too old and jaded for that. But allowing him to visit might be proof that some small part of me still hoped. Or did I just want to show him that I belong somewhere?
Being around him today feels different than it did in the past.
“I thought your husband was going to be here?” Dad says. “I can’t believe you’re old enough to have a husband.”
“I’m thirty-three,” I say tightly, because he might have forgotten.
A strange look passes over his face. Perhaps he’s realized I’m older than my mother ever was? Who knows.
“Evan had to go to Montreal for work,” I say. “He was supposed to be back for dinner, but his flight got delayed.” He texted me while I was cooking to say he was leaving Pearson, but it’ll still take a while for him to get here.
My father asks a couple of questions about Evan’s job before saying, “I really am sorry I missed your wedding, but it couldn’t be helped.”
And that does it for me. I can’t take any more of this.
“Oh really,” I mutter. “With a few months’ notice, there was nothing you could do? You had to miss my wedding, just like you had to miss my graduations?”
Normally, I wouldn’t talk back; I’d murmur a few words and hope it would be over soon. His behavior is nothing new, after all. But now I understand, more than I ever did before, how much better I deserved, and for some reason, I can’t just shut down like I usually do.
“Yet here you are,” I say, “telling me that you go to Kaden’s badminton games.”
“Do not bring him—”
“I’m not mad at him. I’m mad at you .”
He looks genuinely baffled.
“I haven’t been anything close to a priority to you,” I say, “in over twenty years. It started before you even met Suzanne, so I know it wasn’t just you forgetting about me once you had a new wife and kids, though that probably didn’t help.”
“You were always so independent. You didn’t need me like they did.”
I snort. “I was independent because I had to be. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You started pushing me away—”
“Like all teenagers. It’s normal. Yet you just gave up, once I wasn’t a cute little girl anymore, and you pushed me away, too. You were the parent, not me, but you didn’t act like it. And now I’m expected to listen while you talk about the relationship you have with your younger children? No. I don’t owe you that. You weren’t there when I needed you.”
“Like when?” He still sounds baffled.
It’s not like I truly expected this confrontation to lead anywhere good, but I had to get it out. Maybe I also thought there’d be half-hearted promises to do better. I don’t know; it’s hard to sort through everything churning inside me.
“Like when I got my period, for example.”
Unsurprisingly, he looks uncomfortable. “What did you expect from me? It’s not fair that you didn’t have a mother, but I’m a man, I don’t know these things.”
“You didn’t even try! You didn’t need to be perfect, but you should have been there. So many times over the years, you just weren’t present. Not even for my fucking wedding!”
“Don’t swear, Jane.”
“Now you want to parent me?” I know I sound like a teenager, but I can’t seem to help it. I drop my voice. “Once upon a time, you were a pretty good dad. After Mom died, you tried your best for a few years. We had no other family here, and I looked up to you. You were my world. And then… Were you like this with Peyton as she got older? I don’t think it was quite the same, maybe because you had her mother to guide you. But why couldn’t you have let her come to my wedding? She wanted to be there, and it meant so much to me…”
Where am I going with this? I don’t even know. I’m just spewing out all the things that had been left unsaid for so long. It probably won’t help, but it’s a relief to actually say what’s on my mind.
And then I hear a key in the lock.