Chapter 35 #2
Phillip hums, thoughtful. “You know,” he says, watching the lit-up houses slide past on shore, mostly megamansions with professionally curated holiday décor.
This stretch of waterfront is prime real estate, where the rich and famous show off.
“One of the hardest parts of growing up is realizing not everyone is meant to grow with you. Some people are just a chapter in your life, and that’s okay.
It doesn’t make them any less important.
It just means their part of the story ends while yours keeps going. ”
He looks toward Helen, then to Linda, his face softening. “Trust me, I know how hard it is when things change.”
That hits me in the gut. I’m here sulking over bruised egos and housemate infighting, while he’s quietly losing the love of his life.
God, I’m such an ass.
I cough, trying to clear the shame that sits heavy in my chest. “Thanks,” I say quietly, meaning it. “For the perspective. I needed that, Dr. Chu.”
“Phillip,” he corrects gently. “That’s not why I came over here, though. I wanted to thank you.”
That catches me off-guard. “For what?”
He nods toward Linda. “For this. The boat parade. She’s always wanted to be part of it, but we never quite managed it.
Since her diagnosis, well, fun has been hard to find.
We’ve been so preoccupied with her cancer that sometimes I think we forget to take hold of the time we do have.
Tonight…” His voice falters for half a second.
“Tonight made her feel like herself again.”
I don’t know what to say to that. All I did was invite them and drive the boat, but the look in his eyes stops me from brushing it off.
“I’m glad,” I say, quieter now. “Really.”
He nods. “So am I.”
There’s a beat of silence. I shift, unsure if he’s about to walk away, but then he speaks again. “She cares about you, you know.”
For a minute, I’m not sure if he means Helen or Linda, but then it clicks. My throat tightens. “Helen?”
I glance to where Helen is perched on a bench, laughing at something Jamie’s saying. Her eyes cut toward us and hold, just for a second.
I shift. “She’s great. Amazing.” I glance down at my cast. “I really appreciate how she helped me out. She let me stay at her place after I got hurt and never made me feel bad about it.”
“She’s been through a lot this year,” Phillip continues, his voice lower. “Between moving back here and her mom’s health...”
He’d worry even more if he knew about Helen’s suspension, but I keep my mouth shut.
Phillip’s still talking. “She usually doesn’t open up easily, tends not to let people in. It’s worried her mom and me. We hate to think of her alone.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “She’s not alone, though. I’m here.”
He looks at me. Really looks. His gaze sharp. “What exactly are your intentions?”
I blink. “My intentions?” There are about twenty ways I could play this. I could joke about how old-fashioned it is, asking me about my intentions toward his daughter. I could deflect. Tell him I haven’t thought about it, that I’m just going with the flow.
But the truth is, I have thought about it. I think about it every time I look at Helen.
Don’t take the easy way out.
“I care about her,” I say, my voice steady. “More than I expected to.”
His jaw tightens. “And?”
“And...she makes me want to be better.” I pause, looking him in the eyes. “She sees the version of me I want to become. Not the guy I’ve been. I—I don’t want to disappoint her.”
That finally gets a reaction. Just a flicker of something behind his eyes, surprise, maybe, or understanding.
“She pushes me,” I continue, the words coming easier now. “Without even meaning it, and she believes in me. Something I’m not used to, but it makes me want to try. Not just for her. For me, too.”
He looks out over the water for a long beat.
Finally, he says, “I hope that’s true.”
“It is.”
He glances back at Helen, who’s standing now, wearing her mom’s hat, and laughing. “You seem like a good guy, Teddy, but that isn’t enough. It doesn’t protect people. It doesn’t take care of them. Provide for them. Actions do.”
“You’re right.” I pause, thinking back. “My dad was that kind of guy. The ‘get things done’ kind. I learned from him, so I know it’s in me.”
Another long silence where I get the sense that he’s thinking things through. Deciding on his final judgment of me. I try not to fidget. To wait it out as patiently as I can.
“Fine.” Phillip nods, then adds like he can’t help himself, “I’m watching.”
“I’d expect nothing less, sir.”
He gives a small grunt at that, almost a laugh, then studies me for a long moment. The moment stretches, weighted and taut. Finally, he nods once and extends a hand.
I take it.
His grip is firm but not bruising like it was at Thanksgiving. “Don’t screw it up.”
I swallow hard and promise, “I won’t.”
He turns and walks away, back toward Linda, who’s dancing with her eyes closed, swaying to the holiday music that still plays over the speakers, even though the parade is over and we’re heading home. Helen catches my eyes across the deck.
She raises her brows in question.
I smile, just a little, to let her know everything is okay.
She smiles back, and something cracks open in my chest. I can practically see a tiny piece of my heart break off, float over, and tuck itself into her pocket unnoticed. I’ll never get it back, that piece of me, not because I’ve lost it, but because it’s found where it belongs.