Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Lucy
“Do you want ice cream?” I lift my head from Nash’s chest. “I want ice cream.”
His arm is tucked under his head, hair tousled, a wild and wonderful reminder of what we just did. His brows furrow as he meets my gaze. “Now?”
“Why not?”
He shifts onto his elbows, brushing a lock of hair out of my face, eyes soft, touch gentle. “For one, I’m fully enjoying what we’re doing right now.”
And I am, too. So much. Being in his arms brings a sense of fullness, of safety and security, of being made whole. Something I’ve never experienced before and somehow, without even knowing, have been craving for all my life.
“But what if,” I begin, with as much mischief as I can muster, “after some ice cream, we fully enjoy it all over again? That’s win, win… right?”
A slow grin stretches across Nash’s face. “Now that’s something I can get behind.”
He throws back the covers and scoots out from under me, dropping my head unceremoniously onto the mattress.
“Hey!” I cry, surprised.
“You think you can dangle more of that goodness in front of me and I’m not gonna leap at the chance? Come on, woman. Up and at ‘em.” He makes shooing motions and I stand and dress, laughing as he shimmies into a pair of pants.
This is a side of him that’s been showing up more and more.
Playful. Silly. Light. I don’t know if anyone else ever gets to see it, but the contrast between this joking energy and the no-nonsense grump I first met is endearing.
Maybe this is who he used to be, before the divorce, before his life became only about work, before he shut himself off from trusting someone enough to be vulnerable.
“What are you in the mood for?” Nash asks as we head for the door.
“Grab a pint of something from the grocery store? Or do you want to go to Lickety Split and walk the beach while we eat?” He swipes his keys off the table, turning to me with a grin as he opens the door behind him.
“I vote the grocery store. Because the sooner we get home, the sooner I get you back in bed. And that’s just better for everyone. ”
My eyes go wide as the door fully opens.
Standing there, on the porch, looking mildly baffled and totally distressed, are my parents… who definitely overheard Nash saying he can’t wait to get me back in bed.
What are they doing here?
How do they even know where here is?
Nash notices my expression and turns. “Can I help you?”
“Can I…?” Dad looks at Mom like he can’t believe this man he’s never met didn’t instantly recognize him.
I step forward before he can engage full tirade mode. “Mom. Dad. Hi.” Somehow, despite my confusion, I sound somewhat casual. “Uhh… this is Nash. Nash. These are my parents. Russ and Miranda Calder.”
There’s a tense moment of silence as Mom offers a plastic smile designed to smooth the situation and shakes Nash’s hand, while Dad glares in full, frustrated, prenuclear disapproval.
“What, uh, what are you guys doing here?” I ask, smooth as ever.
“We thought we’d surprise you by taking you for dessert at Holiday’s,” Mom begins. “So we stopped by Stella’s after dinner and she seemed confused… to say the least…”
“Since you haven’t lived with her in weeks.” Dad’s voice is fire dipped in ice. My stomach drops like I’m sixteen again.
“We’re just a little surprised is all,” Mom adds, trying to gloss over his sharpness.
“A little surprised?” Dad glares at his wife then turns the full force of it to me.
“First you hide the fact that you’re injured.
Then, we basically have to beg to see you.
Now, you hide the fact that you’ve moved in with your doctor.
And thanks to a conversation I can never unhear, the relationship has clearly crossed lines.
I don’t know which one of you is taking advantage of the other—”
“With all due respect,” Nash begins at the same time Mom lets out a plaintive, “Russ…”
“No one is being taken advantage of here,” Nash finishes. “And you don’t get to talk to Lucy like that.”
“She’s my daughter,” Dad snaps. “I’ll talk to her however I damn well want.”
“Not on my property. Not in my earshot.” Nash shrugs nonchalantly, though his eyes are like the sky with a hurricane on the horizon. “And my guess is, not if you ever want to be in a place where you don’t have to beg to see her.”
The silence that falls has weight. I want to grab Nash’s hand and thank him with everything I have, but my father’s jaw is clenched so tight I swear I hear a tooth crack.
“We’re just surprised,” Mom says again, like that will solve it all.
“Surprised or not, Nash has a point. I’m tired of being treated like the world’s biggest disappointment.” I sigh. “I know my life doesn’t look the way you’d like, but it’s not your life. It’s mine.”
For a heartbeat, I consider throwing the tour news in their faces.
But not only is it not a sure thing, but I haven’t told Nash, yet.
When I do tell him, I want it to be part of an intellectual discussion, not an emotional explosion because the childish part of me felt the need to throw my dreams around like defense weapons.
Dad inhales slowly and exhales completely.
“I’m not sure how you expect me to feel,” he begins, more gently than before, “when your life is so unstable, so lacking security, and now you’re living with some guy who’s clearly too old for you instead of going back to Los Angeles and getting back to work. ”
My jaw drops. “So now you want me to dance?”
“I want you to be okay.” His voice breaks on the last word. “I don’t know how to help you anymore.”
“Help me? How has any of this helped me?”
“Look, Lu…” Dad rubs the back of his neck. “Everything I’ve ever said, ever done, it’s all because I want the best for you.”
I swallow past a lump in my throat that rises unbidden. “What’s best for you isn’t what’s best for me.”
“I’ve been trying to save you from making mistakes.”
“By making me feel like everything I’ve ever done is a mistake?”
“No. By showing you a better way to do things.”
“That’s what you think you’ve been doing? Because Dad, let me tell you, that is not how it’s felt.”
We stare at each other, years of hurt stretching wide and wounded in the silence between us.
“I love you, Lucy,” Dad finally says, the words brittle and foreign. “I know I don’t say it enough. And I probably don’t show it all that well, either. But I do. I’m sorry if… I’m just… I’m sorry.”
“I love you too, Dad.” I blink fast, fighting the sting. “The only thing I ever wanted was to make you proud.”
“And the only thing I ever wanted was for you to be okay.”
In the span of thirty seconds, my dad said he loved me and apologized and I have no idea what to say. Apparently, neither does Mom… even though now would be the perfect time to talk about how surprised we all are.
Nash cuts in gently. “We were heading out for ice cream. If Lucy’s open to it—and if things can remain civil—you’re welcome to join us.”
He glances at me, and I give a tiny nod.
Ice cream with my parents and the man I might be falling for is a far cry from the flirty fun I had in mind, but I just got more from my dad in five minutes than I have in eight years.
Nash turns to Dad who glances at Mom who looks downright ecstatic over the invitation.
Like fighters taking a breather between rounds, we peel off to our respective corners—Nash and me in his truck and my parents in their Buick.
I sit, mildly stunned by the turn of events as Nash closes the passenger door for me.
“I’m sorry about all this,” I say, as he takes his place in the driver’s seat, the truck engine roaring to life.
“Don’t be.” The look in his eyes says he genuinely means it.
“Thank you for standing up for me.”
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat. No one deserves to be talked to like that, especially by someone they love. There are better ways of getting your point across.”
I nod, blowing a puff of air past my lips. “I just can’t believe he had anything nice to say at all. And I definitely can’t believe he said he loves me.”
Nash glances my way, thoughts ticking away behind his eyes. “Those words can be hard to say for some people.”
There’s something in his voice. Something raw. Torn. Like frayed edges.
I frown, pressing my lips together as I nod. “I know.”
And suddenly it feels like maybe we aren’t just talking about my dad anymore and I don’t know what to do with that, so I hurry on before I can think too much about it. “You’d think it’d be easier though, from father to daughter…”
“We’re all just people, Lucy. Broken. All of us.
Doing the best we can with what we’ve got.
We screw each other up even when we don’t mean to.
” He lets out a slow breath, eyes still on the road.
“Doesn’t mean you have to abandon boundaries.
You’re allowed to draw a line. But forgiveness isn’t just for the person you’re forgiving.
It’s for you too. Bitterness will turn you into someone you had no intention of being. ”
Once again, something in his voice says we’re not just talking about my dad anymore. I thread my fingers through his. He lifts my hand to his lips, kissing each of my knuckles.
I should be nervous, considering where we’re going and who we’re going with.
I’m not.
Not with Nash by my side.