Alex
Thirty-nine
As I head back toward the house after my angry power walk around the neighborhood, I feel a bit better.
My emotions are under control. I’m a grown man and a good father, and no matter what my mother wants, she can’t make my decisions for me.
I know what’s right for me and for my daughter, and that’s the end of it.
I can care about my father and my family without having to substitute their desires for mine.
I’m feeling pretty confident about my ability to say that when a familiar truck comes into view as I turn down my street.
Josie. I lift a hand, already smiling. Only she drives right past me without slowing down.
No wave. No acknowledgment. Nothing. I stare after her taillights.
What the hell? But why would she be in my neighborhood if not to see me?
A sense of doom creeps over me as my phone pings. Maybe this is Josie, with some sort of explanation? I pull it out, and there’s a new email from Zara in my inbox.
Alex,
I wasn’t sure whether to send this by email or wait to talk to you when we returned, but I don’t know what’s going to be happening at the house, and I don’t think this can wait.
Anastasia spent time alone with Eloise this morning. I didn’t realize it was happening at first, and I wasn’t present for the beginning of the conversation, but I heard enough afterward to piece together what was said.
It seems Anastasia told Eloise she would be living in Toronto with her.
She spoke about schools there, activities they could do, and how much time they would have together once they were finally living in the same city.
At some point, she apparently told Eloise that children belong with their mothers and things would eventually get to be the way they were supposed to be.
By the time I became aware of the conversation, Eloise was extremely upset.
She was crying so hard she could barely speak.
She repeatedly asked why she was being taken away from you.
She wanted to know if she would have to leave her house, leave her friends, and leave Paradise.
She asked if she could still see you. She asked if she would have to choose between you and her mother.
The worst part was that she seemed convinced everyone already knew about this plan except her. She kept saying, “Daddy didn’t tell me yet,” and “Why doesn’t Daddy want me anymore?”
It took me nearly an hour to calm her down.
Then even after she stopped crying, she refused to leave my side. She followed me from room to room. When I suggested a snack, a movie, or going outside, she wasn’t interested. She only wanted reassurance that she wasn’t being sent away.
Alex, I am deeply concerned.
This wasn’t ordinary disappointment or confusion.
Eloise appeared genuinely terrified. I’ve never seen her this distressed.
Given everything she has already experienced with Anastasia’s absence, I think the damage from this conversation may be more significant than either of us realizes.
And I also worry about what her mother intends to do.
You need to talk to her.
Thanks,
Zara
Oh my God.
I understand why Eloise was clinging to me when I got home from breakfast. I understand the worry I saw in her face.
I take a few steps and wonder if Josie was coming from my house.
Could it be that both my current problems trace back to the same place?
By the time I reach my front door, my anger is back again, with a vengeance.
When I check my phone, my text responding to Josie this morning is still unsent. Crap!
My mother and Anastasia are sitting in the living room.
They glance up when I enter, but neither appears particularly concerned.
The sight only fuels my irritation. They’ve spent less than twenty-four hours under my roof, managed to upset my daughter and interfere in my relationship, and they look like they’re waiting to be served tea.
I stop in the center of the room and look directly at my mother. “Was Josie here? What did you say to her?”
Avery gives me a wide-eyed look for faux innocence. “We told her the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
“Allistair, we simply explained the situation.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “What situation? And according to whom? Because nobody asked you to explain anything.”
My mother’s posture stiffens. “Someone needed to be honest with her—”
“No. You needed to keep your mouth shut.”
My mother pulls in a breath, and when I look over, Anastasia is pale. For once, neither woman seems prepared for my response. My mother has spent years assuming she knows what’s best for everyone around her, and normally I give her a pass. Today I can’t.
I turn toward Anastasia. “What did you say to Eloise?”
She folds her arms across her chest. “She’s my daughter.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“She deserves to be with her mother.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You told her she was moving to Toronto.”
“She should be living with me.”
I take a slow breath and force myself to stay calm. Losing control won’t help Eloise. Nothing about this situation is improved by anger.
“If you wanted to spend time with Eloise, we could have had that conversation. If you wanted to rebuild a relationship with her, I would have supported it, as long as you went through proper, formal channels. You owe us that much, for everyone’s protection.
But this is reckless, cruel even. You don’t get to walk into her life after all these years and start making decisions. ”
Anastasia’s expression hardens. “She shouldn’t be living in a house where you’re sleeping with women under the same roof.”
In a flash, I realize we’re no longer having the same conversation.
Maybe we never were. This isn’t about Eloise.
It isn’t about rebuilding trust. It isn’t about parenting.
Is Anastasia entirely my mother’s pawn? Whatever she came here hoping to accomplish, she’s now crossed a line she doesn’t seem to recognize.
“Stop.” I look from Anastasia to my mother and feel something click into place. I’ve been trying to manage everyone else’s expectations. I’ve listened, accommodated, and searched for compromise. In return, they’ve upset my daughter and created damage I can only hope I’ll have the chance to repair.
I’m done accommodating them.
“You both need to leave.”
My mother’s eyes widen. “Allistair, you’re overreacting.”
“No, I’m not.” I hold her gaze and feel entirely certain. “You’re not staying here anymore.”
“Your family needs you.”
“That may be, but first and foremost, my daughter needs me.”
Neither woman speaks.
“You both need to leave,” I say again. “Before Eloise returns in the next twenty minutes.”
“You’re overreacting,” Mom says again. But she stands and adjusts her blouse.
I go over to pick up my car keys. “I want you gone when I return.”
“Where do you expect us to go?”
“I don’t care. Preferably back to Toronto. But if you’re here when I return, I will call the sheriff and have him remove you.”
The front door closes behind me as I cross the driveway and climb into my Volvo.
I’ve gone a few blocks before I feel like my mind and my body are truly connected again.
The adrenaline begins to fade, leaving me with a clearer view of the damage.
Eloise and Josie are both upset, and they never deserved to be caught in the middle of this mess.
Part of me wants to head straight for Black Bear and explain it all to Josie.
But I drive toward the dance studio and force myself to focus on what matters most. I need to be with my daughter.
Eloise spent the morning being told her life was about to change without anyone bothering to ask her what she wanted.
No child should have to carry that kind of uncertainty.
She needs reassurance, stability, and the simple truth that nobody is taking her anywhere.
Before I do anything else, I need to make sure she knows she’s safe.
I open my messages, erase the one I never sent this morning and start again.
Me: Hey. I really need to talk to you. I know you must be busy, but I’ll try to call soon.
As the dance studio appears ahead, and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
One problem needs to be solved before the next.
Eloise comes first. Once she knows the truth and understands that nobody is taking her away, I’ll go to Black Bear.
Maybe we’ll go out there together, like we planned.
Josie deserves the truth too, and I need to stop this spiral before it gets any worse.